got my finger brushed between the door, yet somehow that’s the best thing i’ve felt all day long.

"People. People. Endless noise.
And I am so tired. And I would like to sleep under trees; red ones, blue ones, swirling passionate ones.”
-Fyodor Dostoevsky,The Brothers Karamazov

I got this and that, and ten other things.
What’d you get from the season’s wings?

(doing things that make you uncomfortable) is hard when you don’t have a comfort zone or any scales to base it off of, although being stuck in the samsara of marshmallow fields and boundless lines in a disorienting mirage did feel like true “comfort”. awakening after it, i realised..

00:00

they come alive here, in the glow, in the warmth that holds them for a while. but when the stars fade and the door closes, so does the memory. left behind, quiet and waiting, until silence breaks and begs to be let in again. and maybe that’s why “only monsters are allowed in.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧
.
#poems

Dear butterfly,
Next time you swing your wings, let them carry you far from the spider's web.
Even the smallest flutter can rewrite the story.

didn’t have anything to do squats with so told my 80kg “friend“ to let me squat him, new advantage of having overweight friends i guess. no offence to anyone obviously.

5:00 Am and up again, wonder how many others are up too wondering why they can’t sleep

if i were to ever be tortured to death, they would sit me down in a room alone with someone who is eating and make me listen to them eat.
#myhell

why do i feel so tired, even blinking is a drag

the stolen map ship to Burger king…. shall be treasured.

Some love stories aren’t about being together, they’re about the quiet spaces left behind when someone’s gone, and the echoes of words we never said. A connection that lingers beyond life, where love turns into stars, and silence becomes the loudest goodbye.
.
#poetry #poems #writer

no better date than today to date mark my first post on here
14/15 of december 2024,