nurtured into a pond
@shallowcreeks.bsky.social
a collection of quotes that remind me of slay the princess. automated via @bluebotsdonequick.com. dm for source
Only once you know and respect death can you truly understand the value of life.
November 18, 2025 at 2:17 AM
Only once you know and respect death can you truly understand the value of life.
Have you ever thought about a world where everything is the same… Except you don't exist? Everything functions perfectly without you. Ha, ha... The thought terrifies me.
November 17, 2025 at 11:16 PM
Have you ever thought about a world where everything is the same… Except you don't exist? Everything functions perfectly without you. Ha, ha... The thought terrifies me.
Decay exists as an extant form of life.
November 17, 2025 at 8:16 PM
Decay exists as an extant form of life.
What exactly happened in all those years? What bound us together? What changed her into who I am?
November 17, 2025 at 5:16 PM
What exactly happened in all those years? What bound us together? What changed her into who I am?
and the universe said that you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.
November 17, 2025 at 2:16 PM
and the universe said that you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.
Despite everything, it’s still you.
November 17, 2025 at 11:16 AM
Despite everything, it’s still you.
But imagine being told one day, “Your story is not safe.” That your story might no longer exist, have never existed, may never end, because it never was.
November 17, 2025 at 8:16 AM
But imagine being told one day, “Your story is not safe.” That your story might no longer exist, have never existed, may never end, because it never was.
Rain falls a thousand times
No footprints of come-and-go
You who once went by
Where will you belong?
No footprints of come-and-go
You who once went by
Where will you belong?
November 17, 2025 at 5:16 AM
Rain falls a thousand times
No footprints of come-and-go
You who once went by
Where will you belong?
No footprints of come-and-go
You who once went by
Where will you belong?
Because you see— People ARE stories. People are afraid of this. They can’t see where the plot is headed… Or if it will resolve— And, worse yet, they always wind up ending.
November 17, 2025 at 2:16 AM
Because you see— People ARE stories. People are afraid of this. They can’t see where the plot is headed… Or if it will resolve— And, worse yet, they always wind up ending.
And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better.
November 16, 2025 at 11:16 PM
And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better.
It’s okay— Don’t hold back. Cry as much as you want, as loudly as you want, take as long as you need… Cry. Get it all out of your system. Because… The only way that you can heal from closing yourself in… Is to open up.
November 16, 2025 at 8:15 PM
It’s okay— Don’t hold back. Cry as much as you want, as loudly as you want, take as long as you need… Cry. Get it all out of your system. Because… The only way that you can heal from closing yourself in… Is to open up.
There are a few things more terrifying than one’s own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another.
November 16, 2025 at 5:15 PM
There are a few things more terrifying than one’s own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another.
It was a song about the grass beneath his feet and the sweet scent of flowers in his lungs. It was a song about war and ruin, and grief and loss, and the nightmares that still managed to take him by surprise even when he was awake, and living anyway.
November 16, 2025 at 2:15 PM
It was a song about the grass beneath his feet and the sweet scent of flowers in his lungs. It was a song about war and ruin, and grief and loss, and the nightmares that still managed to take him by surprise even when he was awake, and living anyway.
It was a song about the grass beneath his feet and the sweet scent of flowers in his lungs. It was a song about war and ruin, and grief and loss, and the nightmares that still managed to take him by surprise even when he was awake, and living anyway.
November 16, 2025 at 11:15 AM
It was a song about the grass beneath his feet and the sweet scent of flowers in his lungs. It was a song about war and ruin, and grief and loss, and the nightmares that still managed to take him by surprise even when he was awake, and living anyway.
I’ll gladly hum you a lullaby,
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
November 16, 2025 at 8:15 AM
I’ll gladly hum you a lullaby,
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
I’ll gladly hum you a lullaby,
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
November 16, 2025 at 5:15 AM
I’ll gladly hum you a lullaby,
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
To make up for my contempt
If my despair gives you a will to live,
Then I shall sing, I’ll sing.
Because you see— People ARE stories. People are afraid of this. They can’t see where the plot is headed… Or if it will resolve— And, worse yet, they always wind up ending.
November 16, 2025 at 2:15 AM
Because you see— People ARE stories. People are afraid of this. They can’t see where the plot is headed… Or if it will resolve— And, worse yet, they always wind up ending.
Trading sacrifices for so-called victories. It’s unacceptable. Give her back to me!
November 15, 2025 at 11:15 PM
Trading sacrifices for so-called victories. It’s unacceptable. Give her back to me!
The hero succeeded in destroying the monster, the kingdom was saved: that was the ending of the story… The ending that I, and the story, chose. But what of those others who “tried and failed”? Do their “endings” not count?
November 15, 2025 at 8:15 PM
The hero succeeded in destroying the monster, the kingdom was saved: that was the ending of the story… The ending that I, and the story, chose. But what of those others who “tried and failed”? Do their “endings” not count?
Just think of this as a dream. Everyone has to move on after waking up. There’s no need to fear farewell. Because waving goodbye to the past is the first step towards the future.
November 15, 2025 at 5:15 PM
Just think of this as a dream. Everyone has to move on after waking up. There’s no need to fear farewell. Because waving goodbye to the past is the first step towards the future.
I'm not ready for this to end. I'm not ready for you to leave. I'm not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again…
November 15, 2025 at 2:15 PM
I'm not ready for this to end. I'm not ready for you to leave. I'm not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again…
Their lives will always be one year, one week, one day short, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to them. They live anyway. They love anyway. Forgive an old god for wanting a piece of that for himself.
November 15, 2025 at 11:15 AM
Their lives will always be one year, one week, one day short, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to them. They live anyway. They love anyway. Forgive an old god for wanting a piece of that for himself.
Eternity is far too cruel a fate for you. Not only have you stopped paying attention to the world, but you have stopped paying attention to yourself.
November 15, 2025 at 8:15 AM
Eternity is far too cruel a fate for you. Not only have you stopped paying attention to the world, but you have stopped paying attention to yourself.
Even though everyone’s flame eventually gives out, whether it is suddenly extinguished, or gradually fades away. But life has never been about the past or future. To use the language of this place, I think it’s— “It’s always in the present tense.”
November 15, 2025 at 5:15 AM
Even though everyone’s flame eventually gives out, whether it is suddenly extinguished, or gradually fades away. But life has never been about the past or future. To use the language of this place, I think it’s— “It’s always in the present tense.”
Fate. Such a small word for such a big thing.
November 15, 2025 at 2:15 AM
Fate. Such a small word for such a big thing.