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#spilled thoughts

Irritating irrationality,

Is like a fly that keeps buzzing in your ear,

And not like the cool audio production effect-

Of a track going from stereo to mono.


No-

You sit there plugging into music,

Thinking you can ignore it-

Outplay the annoyance-

But you still hear the buzzing,

You go to clean your ears,

The buzzing is still there. 

Come onnnnnnn. 


Finally you focus on the task as hand,

Until you feel the fly land on your skin,


Now you’re mad. 

“Just go away” you think to yourself. 


You feel it crawl up your arm,

Feeling each step it takes

“Stop” you whisper to it

It keeps going. 


“I said stop!" 

Your words come through clenched teeth. 


And now the fly transforms into a wasp that leaves its mark every three steps.

You wince at the pain from

The stings that bury into your skin like the small buzzing fears

That mix with your past toxicities that were once your daily normalities. 


How can I be so self aware that it’s all irrational?

But it’s all so logical?


Gotta break myself away from societal standards,

That mix themselves within the cocktail of my used-to-be-normal.

Potent shit that still leaves me faded-

Except not the good kind,

More like the phase-

Of wondering 

What you did wrong

Did you say anything bad?

What did you do before?

They probably hate you. 

Probably lost interest.


Screw logical irrationality. 

Or society’s view on constant,

Captivating,

Conversing. 


Screw annoying jealousy

That ends up as massive insecurity

That stemmed from absolutely nothing-


Fuck. 


You’re not there anymore. 


You’re not at the doctor’s office

Being told that you’re under 100 pounds.

You’re not hunched over a trash can trying not to vomit-

As you hear him laugh from his bedroom.

You’re not there 

Being purposely humiliated for personal entertainment. 

You’re not there, 

Listening to him say, for a second time,

That he wanted to cheat on you. 

You’re not there,

Listening to him yell at you after you jokingly asked him why there was a black hair in this bed-

You have brown hair-

His sister was blonde. 

You’re not there

Asking him to stop and slow down

As you try to hold in tears from the pain coming from down below. 


You’re not there anymore,

But some days you are. 

Or some days it shows through the insecurities-

The small, super normal, 

Inconsistencies. 


Because you were built to assume the worst-

And some days you don’t feel good enough-

Because that’s how you were treated.


And even the good days you had-

You felt like nothing.


Never was commended for getting rid of 80 prescription pills that nearly killed you with one dose,

Or the 90 x-acto blades you had hidden in your room.

Or how about the day you promised to stop self harming-

Right after your biggest relapse.


He turned his family against you-

He told you that his mom never wanted to meet you-

Or he made you stay quiet while his friend was on the phone-

Because he wanted you to hear his buddy say how your anxiety would be a problem for him.


But you’re not there,

Right?

You were still the only one who saw him swear in for this country,

Waited for 5 hours with a pounding, nausea-inducing, migraine just to say you supported him.


You’re not there anymore. 

Nor with him. 

But every time this comes up

You naturally want to tear yourself from the good 

Just so you don’t have to be the carrier of these bad moments


So maybe you’re not there anymore,

But some how they end up here. 

and it leaves you questioning sometimes-

what it is you truly deserve.


However,

you were there.

the day he looked you in the eyes as he said,

“you’re lucky I can put up with you, because I don’t know if anyone else would.”


You’re here,

chuckling to yourself,

as you look at the incoming texts from someone special.

reflecting back to that statement,

thinking,

and solidifying the fact you want to try 

to let yourself finally believe-

that you deserve nothing by the best.

starting with believing you also deserve the person behind the texts that made you chuckle.


//n.m.d// 04-09-2020

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2 am is for the sad

It’s for the writers and poets

For the broken artists

And I always find myself back here

With these 2 am thoughts

And these words that aren’t mine

At least I wish they weren’t

But here I am again

Drowning in mind, deeper than any ocean depths

I don’t even know who I am anymore

I lost myself in people

In bad decisions

In choices I never should have made

I’m sorry to friends I’ve lost or left behind

To family I haven’t spoken to in a while

But most of all I’m sorry to myself

How did I get here

And how do I get out

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think about this: Dwelling on the past can leave us feeling shameful. There are things we wish we could erase, people we wish we could forget, and memories we wish could vanish. Past mistakes come creeping back when we thought we had healed. It takes us weeks, even months to go back to “normal.” What a tiring process this is. But what if I told you there is a freedom from the pain? 

2 Corinthians 12:8-9 New Living Translation (NLT)

Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.

You see, God shines amidst our weakness. Despite us wanting to get rid of everything we’ve ever done, we should allow Christ to renew us from the inside out. I know it’s agonizing to revisit painful memories, moments where you didn’t know if you were going to make it through. You’d rather focus on the present than having to explain why you did the things that you did. But that doesn’t matter to God. He was with you when those things happened. He knows every tear that lead you to Him. Don’t allow Satan to ruin the beautiful relationship you have with Jesus Christ. It’s easy to dwell on the past, but it hinders the power of freedom. The freedom found in Jesus!

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Here it is

The moment we dont see coming

Because we are too busy being young

Too busy being selfish.

But here it be

He is going to die

I do not lie

And even though I know why

I still dont know how to say goodbye.

I may not have to

Weve already been through

All the trips of my life with you

And all of the innocent things you,

Said when I wasnt listening

The life that remained a vicious ring

Of when you said I was dramatasising

And the hope you were instilling

In me for it wasnt too soon

I’m only 30 and I’m looking at your doom

And now you sit head on table

I dont know if I’ll be able

To move forward knowing

That I could have done more

My entire life…

Your entire life.


JR McWilliam

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Hello lovelies, 

I hope you’re faring well throughout these difficult times. I know I’ve had my share of trying moments (and the occasional breakdown) this past week.

I haven’t had much chance to draw (which is honestly probably part of the reason it’s been so stressful). There’s been very little time to myself at all.

I had my first Old English translations due, one group collaboration assignment to attend and participate (which was a complete mess considering it was done all online) and I’ve been working on 2/3 of my essays that are due next week.

I don’t know when I’m seeing my partner next, which is trying. I feel for all of you who are separated from your loved ones.

Stay strong; you are loved. Together we can get through this.

I will do my best to get some more posts going over the Easter weekend, and finish some more art for you all to enjoy.

In the meantime stay safe, try to take some time to yourself (if you have a full on workload still), make your favourite comfort food and enjoy some of your most loved creative works.

Wishing you a safe and comforting week,

Rora.

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