#or writing poetry somewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

d-thwish · 8 months

Text

after the mondstadt archon quest:

traveler: venti, how will we ever find you next time we visit?

venti: just call my name, and the breeze will carry it to me~

traveler: ...

venti: ...

traveler: we'll look for you in the nearest tavern

venti: yeah that's probably right

#he'll probably be at angels share #or writing poetry somewhere #venti doing bard things #genshin impact #venti #genshin impact venti #barbatos #venti barbatos #anemo archon #genshin impact traveler #mondstadt #venti the bard

86 notes · View notes

soulinkpoetry · 1 month

Text

Dream of whoever you love, but don’t cry because you can’t have them, smile because they exist.

@soulinkpoetry

.

#you exist somewhere #and that’s enough #soulinkpoetry #poetry #thoughts #feelings #she writes #poets on tumblr #poets corner #writers and poets

71 notes · View notes

angelofmusings · 7 months

Text

HELLO JEWISH PEOPLE. what shoes do you wear on yom kippur. pick the option that’s closest and feel free to elaborate in the tags!

also feel free to share if you go to shul on yom kippur and what your observance looks like!

#judaism #polls #yom kippur #jewblr #jumblr #jewish #jumblr tag #personally i have a pair of inexpensive white shoes that i basically only wear on yom kippur #they were like $10 on clearance at cvs lol #and i go to a conservative shul and usually fast + no phone/computer/writing/classwork #most of the time (when not at shul) i read or nap #this year i read most of ‘somewhere we are human’ which is a super interesting anthology of immigrant experiences (incl. poetry prose & art)#highly recommend it to anyone interested in that sort of creative nonfiction

228 notes · View notes

ominousblob · 2 months

Text

//I love you so much it hurts me, maybe that's my problem.

#my writing #quotes #poetry #literature #words #writing #i just pumped this out in 20 min and barely edited it right now #i needed to dump it somewhere and yeah it feels like im flaying my soul but its okie #on fathers #and whatnot #this is sick im so happy no one here knows my face. keep this in the notes app #this one may be especially crappier than other ones because i made it all in an emotional haze #original poem #prose poetry

57 notes · View notes

his-heart-hymns · 5 months

Text

Friedrich nitzsche said:

There are days when I am haunted by a feeling that is blacker than the blackest melancholy. I have a contempt for humanity. I despise the people I have been fated to call my contemporaries. I feel suffocated by their presence.

And shair-e-mashriq(poet of the east) Allama Iqbal wrote:

Duniya ki mehfilo se ukta gaya hu ya rab,

Kya lutf anjuman ka jab dil hi bujh gaya ho.

O Lord, I'm tired of this life,these human gatherings these daily chores. What is the point of having people around when the heart is worn out?

Sometimes I find myself overwhelmed by such a sense of negativity that every aspect of life seems too heavy on me.

67 notes · View notes

itsmeedaa · 27 days

Text

Do you know the feeling like you want to find like portal? To other world where you could escape all what here is and just once, once live your life.

39 notes · View notes

hersurvival · 12 days

Text

"You hold such high opinions of me, that I do not deserve.. I only hope you're not afraid of monsters."

You're scared you might not live up to my expectations, you worry that I've placed you on the highest pedestal, that I've created an image, an idealized version of you in my mind.

But I have never expect you to be anything more than exactly who you are in each and every precise second of time.

And I want you all the same, what you call beautiful and what you say is ugly.

I want you when you're lying awake alone at night, crying to the stars, when you are hopeless, crumpled on the bathroom floor.

I want your damage, your undoing, your violence.

No less than I want your good.

Your dancing and laughing in the kitchen as you wash the dishes, the carefree way you giggle as you whisper to me little secrets.

Your confidence, your gentle touch, your kindness.

I have seen your duality, I assure you, you're no worse a person than me.

The way I would be compelled to kiss you - how I have spent every waking, dreaming breath wondering how your lips would feel against mine.

And you'd let it happen, at least for a moment, just to know what it was like.

26 notes · View notes

unefilledelune · 5 days

Text

my fig tree

23 notes · View notes

sanddollarpoems · 2 months

Text

I feel the guilt of not caring.

It goes against my grain

to see a problem and choose

to walk away,

but this is the box they want me in.

I'll lie around pretending to be busy,

and yawn and sigh and continue

to wish for

a cause worth caring for.

#sanddollarpoems #spilled ink #poem #poetry #quick write #i really wish I could work somewhere that I felt mattered #not just a job #sigh #corporate exhaustion

28 notes · View notes

fearandhatred · 3 months

Note

I'm curious about the Freudian one 👀

for this one i actually posted a chapter on ao3 for about three seconds before i decided to take it down lmaoo. now that i'm reading through it again i feel like it actually has potential so maybe i'll pick it up again in the future. but anyway this was the summary:

Crowley doesn't make it a point to make friends. However, he has a surprisingly symbiotic relationship with this one duck. A long one, too. Granting a being eternal life may or may not be illegal, but Crowley doesn't see the harm in it. Hell hasn't said anything, and as far as he knows, the duck community hasn't either. Esther has her personal issues. So does he, even though they're mostly about a certain man-shaped angel thing. They meet up once in a while to talk about it.

anddd a snippet:

At around 2am, he sobers up and decides to go to the park. Esther is usually asleep at this time, but when he gets there, she's sitting at their usual spot. Crowley goes to sit beside her. He's not shaking but he feels like it, and he can only vaguely sense the grass he's sitting on, the clothes against his skin, Esther's presence to his left. It's like a quiet discorporation. Esther tells him that one of her children has finally passed. Crowley tells her that Aziraphale's gone. Esther tells him that her son was old and they were both past their prime anyway, so it was inevitable. It was time for him to go. Crowley tells her that Aziraphale wasn't supposed to leave him so soon. Crowley apologises for being so distraught when Aziraphale is merely gone and not dead. Esther says grief is not comparable. Crowley feels that surge of anger again, although maybe it's despair this time, or maybe it's nothing. His finger twitches like his hand is about to start trembling, the kind of trembling that starts up and can't be stopped the moment he stops thinking about it, and he's just so over it all. A feeling travels down his arm and, scowling into the grass, he shoots his hand out and sets fire to a bunch of cattails in the pond. Esther gasps. "Crowley. What are you doing? Put that fire out this instant." "There's water right underneath it," he grumbles. "Nothing's going to happen." Esther stomps right up to him and kicks his shin with a webbed foot. "You will put that fire out now, young man," she snaps. "How would you feel if someone set fire to your home?"

another snippet

#fearandhatred #fearandasks #fearandfics #thank u for the ask eybe!! <3 #i am the master of naming my fics things that are barely relevant to the plot #freud is mentioned though somewhere else #tag game #so many tags omfg #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #blackout poetry #i guess #writing

25 notes · View notes

fagdykepearlescentmoon · 6 months

Text

I am the thing that they tried to kill. I am the creature they whisper about in their homes. The thing they label as 'dangerous' as 'wrong'. I am the queer and I am the faggot. I am everything they never liked. I am every so called bug crushed under their heel.

I crawl, raw, bloody, and righteous from the ashes of complacency and I scream, I scream, I scream. I scream for those who never got to and those who one day will. I was quiet and sweet once. They made me this. I was told to fit in, to do what I was asked. So I yell and I stumble and I rage.

They tried to smooth me down, shape me to their liking. Make me become something I'm not. A suburban home, an office job, a reluctant marriage, two kids. File down my roughened edges to fit their 'perfect' mould. But I am a wild thing with teeth and claws. I tear through the plaster walls and run recklessly into the woods.

She traces the line of my jaw and I realise what it is to be whole. Worship not in churches but in fierce love. We dance under the starlit sky and tear away their gilded chains. Let them cry and wail for their so called morals. I do not care. I do not care!

There is no love is beige walls and forced smile. There is no joy in doing what they would wish. I am a creature of forgotten words and secret smiles. I am a creature of smoke and rage. I am every hateful word they spat at me.

I am the thing they tried to kill and I. Will. Not. Die.

#on being queer #on rage #the best way i seem to write prose/poetry is barely edited tumblr posts #anyway i just have a lot of queer rage and i hope this resonates with someone somewhere #shitty poetry hours/pos #poetry #prose #cw slurs #reclaimed slurs #queer #lgbtq

21 notes · View notes

decisions-at-3am · 18 days

Text

I have had so many regrets. How unfortunate it is, That you are not one of them.

13 notes · View notes

in---earnest · 2 months

Text

What For?

I study. I study for my future. I study for my parents. For myself.

I study. And I study decently well. I work hard. And I bear the fruits of it.

I study. And I read. And I sketch and write and work and apply and am rejected and apply again. And what is it for?

It’s not for my parents. It’s sort of for me. But it’s mostly for my future.

I have a fantasy. It is not realistic, as most fantasies are. But oh, I have a fantasy, and it is one that I will be punished for voicing.

I fantasise that one day I will meet a girl. A girl with honest eyes, a girl with a genuine smile. Whose hair I could run my hands through. Whose waist I could put my arm around. Whose weight I could sink into. Whose words I could wrap around me, a comforting weight.

My fantasy is simple. To be somewhere, somewhere, somewhere I can say I love a girl and know I can have a future with her. Somewhere, somehow, sometime, I can spend my life with her. Or a few months. Or a few years. The luxury of loving who I want to love. Is that such a terrible amount to ask?

Why do you demonise me? Why do you tell me I should be grateful? Should I be fucking grateful that I have told all of five people and only two have kept my dignity? Should I be fucking grateful that I’m not a criminal as of five years ago? Should I fall to my knees and pathetically plead for you to give me rights, give me respect, give me a promise?

Give me a promise; one that you won’t break, won’t go back on, won’t consider unreasonable?

I must fight to exist! I am told that my living body is enough of a blessing, when I can never breathe a word of my desires. I am told my alternatives are some sort of concession on your part.

What harm am I doing to your precious democracy, your caricature of diversity, your farce of a progressive agenda? What harm does it do to you, every minute I die inside because I know I may likely marry someone I will never want to touch.

What is it? Tell me.

What does it feel like?

Is it a knife in your back, poison in your veins, a slit through your throat? Because you know as well as I do, your sadism knows no bounds. My people. Your people. The people who have turned and will turn on you. They met their ends the very same way, correct? You let them meet their ends in the very same way.

You acknowledge our existence only to call us a problem. A box of knickknacks in your attic. They’ll look nice on display, don’t you think? Oh dear, they’re so dirty with dust, coated with cobwebs, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. A problem for another day, don’t you think? A problem for another lifetime.

Oh yes, you think i’m a problem. Of course, you think i’m a problem.

#i live in conservative india and im bi-romantic that's all there is to say about that #spilled ink #writing #poetry #queer #bisexual #writeblr #lqbtq #guys it sucks so much i have my finals. my BOARDS. and they're going pretty damn well #but the knowledge that im not even motivated by my future studies i just want to live somewhere i can be safe #that's so concerning and kind of dystopic to me #i hate it so much. the way the politicians talk about us #one of them called us “filth” like last week #man im not even hindu but even i know the very gods you worship fit our modern understanding of lgbtq+#like give me break #stop telling me that i should be grateful I won't be taken to prison for liking a woman #i deserve the space i take up as much as the next person #stop telling us otherwise

11 notes · View notes

vadapavani-13 · 4 months

Text

#so um #this happened??#anyways this is my first time writing poetry pls don't come at me-#i wrote this down like 1 minute ago and i needed to share it somewhere #and i figured tumblr was the most un-judgy place i could post it #idc if anyone sees this or not but i just needed this to be on the internet somewhere ig #in other news #im mentally unstable #poetry #does this count as desiblr?#desiblr #desi #tw abuse #ig #tw trauma #tw mommy issues

10 notes · View notes

rooolt · 1 year

Text

The post canon college gothcleats that lives in my head has haunted me for weeks and I have no way of inflicting it upon anyone else

#“Roolt you’re a writer” SHUT UP #I wanna see what happens in canon before I write anything #But that means I must suffer alone #But to me norm stays in California for college #Herm and Taylor go to some sort of art school in like Seattle or something #And scary and link end up at the same college somewhere in the northeast (DO NOT ASK ME WHERE I DONT KNOW)#And they’re kinda in love with each other for four years but never talk about it #And scary does poetry and Link plays soccer #I am ill about them #dndads #gothcleats

52 notes · View notes

bigmooneyes · 2 years

Text

wikipedia poem about dpdr, because i can never find the right words when trying to explain; so borrowing them will have to do

transcript:

1.

Depersonalization-derealization disorder From wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Specialty: Psychiatry, clinical psychology Symptoms: Depersonalization, Derealization Usual onset: Young adulthood Duration: chronic, episodic

Contents [hide]

The core is the subjective experience of "reality of one's self" or detachment from one's surroundings.

thought to be caused largely by interpersonal trauma adverse early childhood experiences, specifically emotional abuse and neglect have been linked

the state of mind could last either hours, days, and possibly even weeks at a time.

These experiences which strike at the core of a person's identity and consciousness may cause - substantial distress;

the real thing was overwhelming;

fearing loss of control, detached from their own thoughts; these symptoms cause -- unreality,

dissociation from the rest of society; disconnected or detached from one's self; or from one's surroundings.

there is an alienation; uneasy or anxious -- constant or varying intensity.

Insidious onset may reach back as far as can be remembered.

2.

Society and culture [edit]

patient who "feels that he is no longer himself", attempts to describe experiences that are difficult to articulate into words.

In order to comprehend the nature of reality we must understand what reality actually is.

some descriptions were metaphors;

as if the world around them is foggy, dreamlike/surreal, or visually distorted.

The ability to sense that something is unreal is maintained when experiencing symptoms of the disorder.

^ Radovic F (2002). "Feelings of Unreality: A Conceptual and Phenomenlogical Analysis of the Language of Depersonalization".

the conceptualization of dissociation involves detachment from one's self;

it doesn't diminish just the experience, but more or less all experience.

the majority of people (about 80%) responsible for child maltreatment are the child's own parents.

^ Thomson, Paula; Jaque, S. Victoria (15 March 2018). "Depersonalization, adversity, emotionality, and coping with stressful situations". Journal of Trauma & Dissociation.

3.

Prognosis [edit]

as if the world lies within the understanding of reality.

experiences with depersonalization may be frightening, a loss of control over their thoughts or actions; persistent or recurrent feelings of detachment from one's mental or bodily processes; difficulty concentrating; a sense that self or the world is unreal; impairment to one's ability to perceive reality.

The Scream may have been inspired by depersonalization disorder. (i.e. patient is aware of a perceptual disturbance)

symptoms tend to be constant and quite unsettling.

an illness of lost opportunities.

^ Blevins, Christy A.; Weathers, Frank W.; Mason, Elizabeth A. (1 October 2012). "Construct Validity of Three Depersonalization Measures in Trauma-Exposed College Students". Journal of Trauma & Dissociation.

Anxiety vs. fear

Symptoms

Types 3.1 Existential

The most common comorbid disorders are depression and anxiety; significant and uncontrollable feelings of anxiety and fear; fear is more complex than just forgetting or deleting memories, the hereafter, the next ten years or even tomorrow.

DPDR is typically chronic and continuous; between reality and the symptoms; a feeling of being detached from the world; divorced from their own personal self; Treatment of DPDR is often difficult and refractory.

4.

Appearance [edit]

I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift.

Is this madness?

(In the upper right corner is a heavily edited black and white ghost picture of The Brown Lady of Raynham hall. The descriptive text underneath it is unreadable.)

all dissociative phenomena involves a detachment from reality; Familiar places may look alien, bizarre, and surreal.

they are not in the notion of the present; experiencing themselves and their lives from a distance.

as if the world around them is disconnected; distorted. as though time is passing them by.

they are able to recall a memory but feel as if they did not personally experience it.

In some cases, individuals may be unable to accept their reflection as their own, thoughts and acts elude the self and become strange.

^ Daphne Simeon; Jeffrey Abugel (7 November 2008). Feeling Unreal: Depersonalization Disorder and the Loss of the Self.

think critically about the nature of reality and existence.

depersonalization is understood as a defense; a type of coping mechanism.

Although residual sunlight does not penetrate the depths inhabited by deep-sea lizardfish, their eyes aid in detecting sources of residual or bioluminescent light.

^ Mauricio Sierra (13 August 2009). Depersonalization: A New Look at a Neglected Syndrome. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. p. 120.

#wikipedia poetry #poetry #wikipedia poem #dpdr #depersonalization #derealization #dissociation #mental health #my writing #depersonalisation disorder #derealisation #depersonalisation #bc english spelling is different and all that #actually dpdr #tw child abuse #idk if it qualifies as poetry but #it was a good exercise anyway #also lmk if i fucked up with the transcript somewhere!#transcribed

389 notes · View notes