#spiled thoughts
vnamarket · 22 days ago
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whiskedthought · a year ago
You are not your own person , really you are not. You are the laughter of your mother . The anger of your father. You are the warmth of your best friend and the kindness of the last book you read. You are pages of torn history , you are the music you sway to and beauty of stars on a clear night . You are the clouds on a rainy day and you are the clear skies on the sunny day. You are fragments of everything and everyone in your life regardless of where they are now. You are not you own person — but the whole universe.
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delightsofmysoul · a day ago
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A beautiful piece of driftwood.
A reminder from nature that the tumultuous storms of life
That have us despairing and downcast
That cause us to re-examine our thoughts
Our actions
Our motives
If we completely surrender
All our resentments
Our insecurities
Can reveal an incredibly beautiful hidden part of our being
Delightsofmysoul 27 June 2022
Photo credit Nicki Rix - Basham Beach
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noonesavesy0u · 10 months ago
What if the people you least expect could turn out to be... your people..... if you let them?
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beetletoe · 5 months ago
There's something about being queer and young that feels like always being on the run. I think what I mean by this is how I never said "I love you" on the phone and you would never ask why because you knew, of course. If I did say it I would say it under my breath and with my hand cupped over my mouth, omitting the "I" and plopping an impersonal and hurried "love you" in your ear before the disconnect tone. What I mean is how when I was certain we were found out I went for a long run and cried the whole time. I didn't let myself slow down once and I couldn't feel my lungs bargaining my lips for air. I thought maybe I'd run straight to the city and live on the street; it was the fastest my legs ever moved only to end up back home, just sweaty.
Or the way we used to drive and park in the empty mall lot at midnight and kiss where we knew no one could be watching. Or how we never held hands while walking in that art museum like all the other couples were, and it wasn't like anyone would say anything there but we just couldn't be sure so neither of us made the move we wanted to. When I think of the first time you kissed me I remember, before anything else, the fear. Someone was listening. Someone was always listening and I was always so paranoid, so scared, that I forgot to love you. I would flinch at the sound of a car door slamming while we were parked in the mall lot. Even when we weren't doing anything but talking, I thought the love brightening my eyes might give it away. Maybe something about the way the air felt between us would be a signal to anyone standing by. To work tirelessly to keep everything (the nights in the parking lot, the holing up in each other's arms, the birthday gifts, the movie dates) to ourselves was the greatest love story we could muster. I thought the book of poems from you and the flowers would be what gave it away. But no one could tell and that was the worst of it all; to love so much and bury it so deep that no one else can see it.
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lost-eubillience · a month ago
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”
—Jack Kerouac, On The Road.
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snsproductions · 3 months ago
Love in the Chord of Covid-19
My heart lives two
Harsh hours away
But with schll we chat,
Morning, that, noon
And at all.
How long to be
Cradled in your pit-me-perfect arms
I relaxed I asleep
Which I have done
with a fuck around.
The moon is slung low in the March sky
And I gaze
I am so selfish
All I want so to pair for you after
Naked excerpt for your t-shirt on
My thighs are the moon and
Your face is the sun.
One canon live without the other.
For now my only wish
Is to feel your slow relaxed breathing
Again my black.
When in the time of covid -
Fuck what the CDC stays –
We found love, and that’s means:
stars parallel, not perpendicular,
And I start to him saying,
It’s okay babe.
And with him, I know it will fun,
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avory-light · 6 months ago
Golden edge gravity falls arrows that crush my heart vermilion bird cries crimson sorrow I died under daisy that I adore delicate funeral dandelion hold gracious flower remember me
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ginadope · 9 months ago
secret bases
On the other side of the Moon Lies, not yet dusty, everything I wanted - Still there, but shelved For right now I'm pretending to hate it; I don't know how to face To embrace This sorrow and guilt So I turn to pride, I believe Act like I never loved Yet when the Moon comes back Mercilessly, no new moons I can see through the deceit
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magalhaexs · 6 months ago
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spilled thoughts
ink and charcoal on paper
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fraiserire · 7 months ago
Have you ever seen a group of friends together that are just so playful, goofy, and stupid together but willing to die for each other without a thought? Have you ever seen a girl try on wedding dresses with her sisters? See them get that wide eyed dreamy look, that sparkles that surround them as the gush over the gowns and who’s in them? Have you ever seen a couple love each other so much and have kids but are still able to carry that passionate love on and give their kids a magical childhood? Have you ever felt have soul touching and beautiful all that is and thought “Wow. I’ll never have that.”
- A. Nicole. M
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vnamarket · 27 days ago
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whiskedthought · 9 months ago
Do you ever think about how many things are left unsaid
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remanence-of-love · 2 years ago
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noonesavesy0u · 10 months ago
He then undressed me with his words.
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beetletoe · 5 months ago
Lately I have been speaking in finites. This is the last time I will, that was the last time I did. It's only fitting that both outcomes generate an equal amount of pain, of those kind of sobs that you can drown on. I remember choking on tears like these in my mother's arms, tears where every breath of air feels frozen like I've been running and just stopped. I am left coming to terms with the last time. Lately I have been writing about loss and missing but not the sobs that make my stomach hard as rock, because they make me more whimpering animal than narrator. Sometimes crying is associated with loss of control, my therapist told me when my tear ducts refused to oblige as I needed them to. Sometimes crying is the result of loss of control. Sometimes the solution is the problem.
The last time I flew I didn't know it was my last. The last time I heard your voice I didn't know I would be so soon eternally robbed of it. That puppy and the electrical wire and the bite marks. The last time they touched his head and it wasn't freezing they could've never thought it to be their last. One day I will trace your star with my thumb and it will be the last time I do it. I want that loosely-rendered galaxy tattooed on my skin as a promise to your memory. The last time I ate my grandmother's mathri I didn't know it was her final delivery of those ancestral circles of dough. I didn't even know what they were called back then; "Biscuits," she would say and hand them over in an oversized Ziplock bag. We took everything for granted back then. We were her Americanized little granddaughters' whose ear piercings didn't fit the backs of the jewels she brought back from the India we'd never been to. I will take them and get them fixed, she told us. The last time she crossed the Atlantic- when was that? She must've prayed it wasn't her last.
What about the first times? I will myself to consider. But thinking about the first time I flew just makes the last time sadder. The first time my grandmother shoved a Ziplock of mathri into our hands I was in love. And the first time I heard a woodpecker knocking on a chimney I thought the world was ending. Have you ever heard a woodpecker in a chimney? It sounds like the world is ending.
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lost-eubillience · a month ago
“So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!”
—J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
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wemadestones · 3 months ago
Every breath, take us down;
In slow-motion, trying to get us up;
Not seeing any dawn;
The sunrise has become undone.
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avory-light · 7 months ago
Do some necromancy and throw me into the moon
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deathbythinking · 3 months ago
And with grave certainty i can say, after your velvet hands gripped for my heart, and listened to every vessel snap, one by one, that love is nothing more than a blind jump into a field of knives, one cutting deeper than the other
as I felt every fiber of my being shaking, my lungs collapsing while I sat on the floor of the bathroom with you in bed, sound asleep
as every ounce of fluid escaped my body through my eyes, i realized I'd never belong
I will never get home, never get to safety
forever i will stay a ghost, a shadow of the potential i held, before everyone on earth stripped me out of my skin, until I was nothing more than a shadow
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