What may seem like a heavy cloud today will eventually lift and when the sun shines through it will be worth the darkness that you suffered whilst waiting 🖤#CapCut #motivation #motivational #empower #empowerment #thoughts #thoughtoftheday #mumblogger #blog #blogger #foryoupage #foryou
I’ve held you closer
Than a handful of bad cards
drawn, odds on the house.
I’d bet money on
losing my sanity to
a gambler’s dream —
That I can still win
even as the dealer drags
my chips once again
Across the table
he puts on a placid smile —
an invitation —
Play another round?
Or walk from the fantasy
of you and of I.
Victim or active
player, in my own demise?
You can bet on it.
because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
Donnie would absolutely blow a fuse if someone ruined their books with how sacred he was to that mint condition comic, and I’m sure Mikey thinks cooking is an art. Cross either of them and it’s hell to pay!
I read a lot of book series that had been handed down to me by my siblings, but you could really tell whose they were before based on their condition. One sibling left foodstains and dog ears, another left spine breaks and ripped paperbacks, and the final would threaten my life if I so much as dented a page. Such is life with shared things
I guess you could say those books were well loved, for better or for worse lol
The Fourth Chair (Everyone Has a Seat at the Table)
Your table is a simple thing: it’s made of plain, unfinished wood and only holds room for four, but though the object itself is unspectacular, you’ve poured your heart out on it to care for those who matter the most.
You pull out the first chair to honor your parental figure, or the one who took it upon themselves to guide you like they would a son or daughter. They loved you, cared for you,…
The Fourth Chair (Everyone Has a Seat at the Table)
Your table is a simple thing: it’s made of plain, unfinished wood and only holds room for four, but though the object itself is unspectacular, you’ve poured your heart out on it to care for those who matter the most.
You pull out the first chair to honor your parental figure, or the one who took it upon themselves to guide you like they would a son or daughter. They loved you, cared for you,…