someone-ds

[someone-ds]

And once again the leafs turn brown, red and yellow.

I stare at the lake I spent the better parts of my youth at. It’s empty.

If there were to be someone on the other side of the lake they’d hear me breathe. I’m sure of it.

The fabric that clings to my legs and torso and the stretch of my skin makes me realise just how much time has passed.

Distance does bring peace.

This is no longer my home town.

It’s just the town my parents live at.

The town where I went to school and where all my friends choose to be.

It’s nothing of mine anymore.

It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t sting.

Doesn’t make me scream and my blood boil.

It never had any vendetta against me.

St. Pölten was never evil. Never bad. Boring maybe but not evil.

It’s just a piece of land with houses and schools, lakes and grocery stores, a shitty mal, inexhaustible memories of me being a version of myself I no longer recognise or remember.

I stayed for a night only, the mattress on my bed welcomes my back gracefully. My room is empty and white. Stripped of all colour and personality, memory.

It doesn’t belong to me anymore. It’s my parents spare room. There is furniture there that’s not mine. The heater is off, no one stays here. It’s cold.

I cringe when I accidentally tell my parents that I’m going home later this evening.

The pained look on my fathers face makes my heart churn.

‘This is your home’ he says, more to himself than anything.

I stare at the burnt toast on my plate.

I’m not even sitting on my chair. I didn’t say anything. It’s not even my chair anymore.

There are no clothes for me to wear to bed. I forgot that my chest of drawers is empty. I wear my younger brothers gym clothes.

They fit. He’s so tall. Much taller than me. I hope he’ll understand why I left so suddenly and rarely come back, hope that he won’t stay mad at me forever for leaving him behind.

I stare at the different trees and grass patches that are slightly discoloured

How many days I’ve spent laying there and swimming.

How many friends I no longer talk to but still share the same patch of grass in my memories.

I keep walking and it hits me, with so much force that I stumble a bit.

I’m grown.

I have grown.

I have even out grown things.

Not just my clothes but people and this place.

I think that Phoebe Bridgers said it best

Couldn't really love you anymore

You've become my ceiling

Like a goldfish in a tiny bowl can’t grow. I too couldn’t reach my potential if I stayed.

Distance brings fondness, coats everything in a thin layer of gold.

There were reasons good reasons to leave.

A Single good day won’t change the years spent in agony.

So I go. Grab my bag and get on the train that’s going to the big city.

My home.

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep

[someone-ds]

Totally insufferable is what he is. But God am I just drawn to insufferable men.

He walks with his chin up, clothes worth more than two of my paychecks combined, a kick in his step, and a smirk across his clean-shaven face that would bring any woman to her knees.

He has mastered the art of a souverain aura. He has had a thing for getting the rise out of me since day one. And how I hated his guts, ohh how I hated everything about his stupidly handsome face. He is smart I’ll give him that, almost as smart as me. Our professor has grown fond of our rivalry, instigating heated discussions and making us meet heads every lecture. I love a challenge and mmh how delicious of a challenge he is. Our eyes meet more often than I’d like. He watches me, in return I watch him. I cannot help myself. When he talks my ears perk up, the corners of my mouth curl up, and my eyes usually roll because of his awful trash talk. I fall victim to his charm and wit. I wish to sink my teeth into his throat and mark him as mine. He talks and talks to try and get a reaction out of me. Over the summer he has apparently forgotten how much fun it is. So he does it all the time. Was sich liebt neckt sich what loves that teases

And tease we do. He drives me crazy, he makes me wild. I want to just shut him up with my lips, he brings the worst out of me. And he loves that. God how he saviours my annoyed eyes and angry huffs. He feeds off it. It’s almost animal-like how we prey on each other. He drives to Germany every weekend, he’s from there. Something I tease him about constantly. the way he says certain words makes me cackle. ‘What was that? What did you just say, sorry I didn’t get it?’ ‘Ugh, how do you guys say that??’

My hometown is on his way to his hometown. So, he mentions every other Monday when he comes back to class. On Friday it so happens that instead of going getting off a stop later than he does; I get off at the same time as he does. We’re going to his apartment, in a building with a porter, community kitchens, cinemas, gaming rooms, saunas, and pools. It is straight out of a fucking movie. The walk up to the apartment he talks about the area, his feet and mine falling into sync. I am awestruck, cranking my neck up to see all those beautiful skyscrapers that surround us. It feels like I’m in a totally different city, a feeling that will continue to grow the longer you spend in his bubble. We walk into the rotating doors, and the portier watches me closely and asks me what I am doing here. ‘She’s with me’ he barks and goes up to him. He signs some paper and scowls the man for his rude behavior to his guest. I stand awkwardly to the side. A warm feeling in my stomach. ‘She’s with me’ echoes through my head. Strangely it sounds lovely coming from his lips. There is a tablet in front of the elevator behind two glass doors he used a keycard for us to pass through. He punches a number in, I’m too distracted to see which one. I scan the walls and the floor. We go in. The elevator is spacious and weirdly has no buttons on the inside. There is a red LED indicator telling us which floor we are on. ‘Wait, which floor do you live on again?’ He lowers his head a bit, I can hear the smirk on his pretty pink lips when he says ‘The 23rd’ My jaw drops. Then my head falls back, and a nervous laugh leaves me. I’ve never been this high above the ground before. My knees buckle a bit. He squared his shoulders and stepped out before me. He casually strolls the corridor talking about the VIP features he has; I pay him half a mind. More interested in my surroundings, the carpet and the wall, and the decorations. We go through the gaming lounge. ‘It’s a short cut’ he says and winks. I’m still awestruck and too mesmerized by everything to even consider mocking him for the cheesy line delivery. We are on the 23rd floor of a luxury apartment complex and all I can think about is how much I do not fit in here. We get to his door, it’s the last one in the hallway. He goes in. I stay two steps behind him not sure if I should come in or wait until he’s done grabbing his bags. ‘Come in, I’m sorry it’s so messy… I rarely have people over’ he says the last part more quietly. ‘Should I take my shoes off?’ is the first thing that leaves my mouth. He looks down at my feet and then just shakes his head no. ‘Nah you’re fine, doesn’t matter’. His apartment is smaller than I thought it’d be. A small kitchenette, and a queen-sized bed with a TV in front of it. A small desk and a beautiful dark blue velvet couch. The bathroom is off to the side down a small corridor. But what gets me is the view. The floor-to-ceiling windows and a terrace that wraps around the whole apartment. He opens the door for me and rushes off to pack his bag while I stand quietly by the door. I walk around trying to get a feel of who he really is. A postcard by his bedside table and a picture of the family dog tell me he misses home more than he lets on. I get it- I think to myself. On his desk are two bottles of Dom Perigon 2010 and 2008. A small but heavy Porsche Trophy with his dad’s name on it. A small frame with a family picture around a table in a restaurant. He has his mother’s eyes. I wonder if anyone has ever told him that. I venture out to the balcony. The wind has my curls flying all over the place. I feel like a little kid giggling out there. I look over the city that I have come to call home for the past year. It looks completely different from up here. I feel like I’m on a different planet altogether. ‘How much do you pay for this?’ I say as I step over his clothes that had fallen from the clothing line. ‘1200€ without the garage, it’s 100 more with’ he says nonchalantly as if that’s not more than I make in 2 months.

My knees buckle again. I’m a bit dizzy, the wind and the adrenaline from being up so high are making it worse. I go back inside. I see an elegant black suitcase in the corner of the room. ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if that was a Rimowa suitcase?’ I think to myself. Those things are stupidly expensive. I go look at the black leather nametag with his Initials carved into it, I turn it over and of course, it is a fucking Rimowa suitcase. ‘You’re so fucking predictable.’ I shout in his general direction. ‘Is it true that you get lifelong insurance on these things and if it breaks, they provide you with a different one until yours is repaired?’ ‘Yeah, that’s true, I mean I paid 2,3k on that. That’s the least they can do.’ He changed his clothes and puts his driving shoes on, I bite back the remark about how only old men have dedicated driving shoes. We’re back at the elevator. We go from the 23rd floor to the -2nd floor in less than 30 seconds. We walk around the parking garage and the trunk of a black Q5 opens on its own as soon as we round the corner. He puts his bags inside, shuts the trunk, and walks over to the driver’s door. I’m still looking at the car. The plate with his name and lucky number on it sits proudly on the car. Gobsmacked. What the hell… I get in. The plush leather seat is nice, soft, and smooth. I feel like I’m in a Rocketship. I look around and every second that passes the more in awe I am. He reverses out of his parking space and off we go. His car is so high that I can’t really see over the hood. We drive out of the garage onto the busy streets of Vienna that are beginning to feel more like fucking Miami. He has a panorama roof that slides open, and he puts his hand out the top. The other rested comfortably on the leather steering wheel. ‘Be honest how many times have you stuck your head through this?’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Never I just put my hand out like this.’ It is weirdly attractive; he looks expensive and by association, I do too. And that feeling is growing on me. I have been in some car accidents and get nervous being in cars with people I’ve never driven before, especially young rich guys with a car that has 250 horsepower and an inflatable ego. ‘You’re not going to drive like a crazy person, are you?’ ‘I drive more than 500km in a week and have been for over a year, I’m better than most drivers. You’re safe with me don’t worry.’ He turns the music on and I relax in my seat. I then say something about being so high up in the air. He presses some buttons on the little touchpad in the middle of us and I can feel the hind tires lift and the car rising. Then the front tires, I watch as the hood of the car rises while we stand at the red light.

What. The. Fuck? He just lifted us 10cm off the ground. This is so intoxicating, I feel drunk. Bubbly and happy. More from the nerves but also from the sheer ridiculousness that this boy is. He drives us out of the city, and I relax in my seat. We talked about the car how much it cost and the upgrades he got. He starts singing along to the song that is playing. The sun is slowly setting and a strip of light slices through his eyes vertically leaving a honey chocolate strip in his eyes. I ask him how loud the music can get, and he puts it up all the way. And again, I feel like I’m not in Vienna and not with my academic rival but with a friend in Miami. The roof is open the music is loud and good, and I am getting used to feeling like I’m above the rest. The conversation goes from the car and his apartment to his dad and grandparents. His dad is a professional horse rider and owns a hotel that belonged to his grandparents. They own 35 horses and have like 5 luxury cars. He has a younger brother who lives with his mother. His parents are separated. He used to watch his dad on TV and cheer him on. ‘He was home for a day or two a week and then traveled for 3 weeks, I never saw him.’ ‘Did you miss him?’ I ask quietly. It seems like he loves his dad a great deal. ‘No’ his face crunches up a bit, tilting to the side. ‘He was never there so how could I even miss him?’ That breaks my heart a tiny bit. I ask about his mother. ‘Oh, she works in IT’ he says, and I can tell he is embarrassed. ‘Oh, that’s so cool what are you on about?’ His brother has a Michelin-star restaurant named after him. He has to come by every few weeks to walk around and say hello to the guests. The image of that makes me chuckle. I am still mostly looking up at the panoramic window that graces the roof of his car. A pleasant conversation is held with good music coming through the speakers. The wind makes my hair fly around. I feel free.

He drops me off at my house, and I shut the door not before wishing him a safe trip.

He is insufferable and mean. But he is a good guy. Not that I would know what that means. Good guys were never my type.

And over the weekend my mind kept going back. To the feeling of freedom.

#deep #poetry #i love you #love #heartbreak #fanart #truestory #old money #luxury #rich #millionaire #wealthy #rivals to lovers

[someone-ds]

[someone-ds]

2014: oh wow! some social media platforms have started "verifying" prominent users with a little symbol next to their names! this is a great way to separate them from all the copycat accounts, what a neat idea

2023:

[someone-ds]

me when I "mysteriously" feel better after I "have something to eat"

[someone-ds]

Our room is getting brighter earlier and earlier each morning.

I used to be able to tell from how much light was hitting his hair when we'd have to get up.

Now I wake up and the sun is kissing my skin, painting his face scarlet.

The birds are back, it feels like they never left. The harsh ways of winter already forgotten in my mind.

It smells like spring holidays and innocence.

He holds me tight while I think these things.

His hand never leaves my body. A warm and constant reminder of his never ending love.

He chuckles darkly while I breathe in his ear. A heavenly way to start the day.

He moves and I move with him. The tide and flood. Moon and the sea. A push and pull.

I get lost in his eyes, how they darken. No baby blue in sight. A deep and heavy lapislazuli pulling me in, screaming my name.

And he's breathtaking. The lines of his body as he traces my sharp edges with the pads of his calloused fingers.

He breathes me in. It should be a crime how much I yearn for his touch. For the mere thought of his eyes on me. It's drives me insane.

His mouth on my body makes me a believer again. I pray for this morning to never end.

A phone rings in the background but it's gone almost as fast as it appeared. He moves eagerly across my body. Hungry and animal like he bites and kisses my legs and my stomach. Up to my neck and down again.

It's hot and I can only hear the beating of my own heart in my ears.

Maybe I'm saying something, my mouth is open but I can't tell. He is grinning and I melt in his hands.

The sun hits my face and I close my eyes.

He tells me he loves me.

I'm full.

I would find no need for food or sleep in his company.

He makes me full. Satisfaction is written across my face. All my aches and sorrows forgotten.

He kisses me softly.

The sun is shining brightly now. The roar of the big city reaches my ear again. Everything is moving again.

Wherever we just were is gone and we get up.

Life calls for us and for the first time in a very long time I am not afraid.

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep

[someone-ds]

I'm trying to learn how to unclench my jaw and lighten the storm in my eyes.

It's harder than I thought it would be.

To simply be me. Relax.

Roll my neck twice, hear it crack. Let my shoulders down as they've been warming my ears, so high and tense.

Breathe. Let the rise and fall of my chest ground me.

It's difficult to think about today. About now.

Today hurts. and yesterday did too.

Tomorrow will hurt also.

My pill helps me fall into a deep slumber, trapping me in my dreams for 8 hours.

I wake up and it feels like I was awake the entire night but my body somehow feels rested. My head is full of thoughts.

I mourn a life I never lived every morning.

I'm tired of holding a sword and shield. Of fighting battles that were never about me or you.

I'm tired of relentless sacrifices.

I lick at my own wounds in hope they heal in time for whatever comes next.

Because there is never a break. It's one thing after another, it just keeps coming and coming.

I don't think I ever had a moment of complete silence.

And now I'm old.

I'm old.

I've grown bitter and mean.

There isn't a fire in me anymore, no anger. No need to scream and yank and my hair. Pull it out and yell at the sky. Run outside and force everyone to listen and see what is happening to me.

I've found I was screaming at walls. And what I heard back was just the echos of my own cries. I grew silent after that.

I'm afraid that you'll never fully know what it means to be haunted by a life you could have had. By something you almost... almost fucking had.

I'm scared that you'll never know how tired I am of swallowing my words and burrowing my needs so deep inside me that I forget that I too have to eat and live.

There is a universe out there where every unfair thing that has happened to me never did, someone else is carrying the world on their shoulders and I get to be a kid.

I hope that wherever this version of me is I still get to meet you. You'll be able to get to love someone who's not haunted by grief and sadness.

I wish I could let you in and I wish I could relax.

I wish I wouldn't have to bother you with all the things the past has done to me.

But they run after me. They hunt me. I can't escape no matter where I go.

I have faced a lot of things and I'm tired and old now.

I've never felt so old.

There is no feeling quite like it.

Feeling old beyond my years.

I think I'm asking for help.

I think I'm asking for you to be strong for the both of us. Just for a second tell me I'll be alright.

I think what I'm trying to ask of you is to love me for the both of us.

Tell me we'll be alright, tell me you're be here if I fall. Promise me you're figure out a way where we get out of this alive.

Tell me that I'm okay.

Tell me I'm not beyond repair.

Please.

Love me for the both of us

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep

[someone-ds]

Printing your own fanfic - 101

Hello, my friends.

My post about printing my fic Mesmerize has much more notes than I expected, and now someone came to my ask box, asking for help in this case.

And I have to admit, that if you didn't do that before it can be overwhelming. So I will do an explanation for you, and if you have any question then, don't be afraid to ask me then.

I printed my fic with the website LULU.com. It's a site where you not only can print your own books, you can do photo books, calendar, note books etc.

Please have in mind that you shouldn't sell your fanfic ( no really, believe me, don't even try to make money with that shit, you will end in hell), we only want to print it.

AND I hope I don't need to tell you that you shouldn't take someone's fanfic and print it. NO NO NO .... at least not without asking... that wouldn't be nice from you... and I don't like assholes you know

THE START

download the templates for word, photoshop, gimp etc here: Book templates

Then you need to extract it, use here the in-built software or some free software like 7-zip

you'll see a bunch of files and folders now, but don't worry, you only need two of them

you need to search for the word template in the interior folder

and the hardcover template in the cover folder ( I worked with the hardcover, so let's take this as example)

THE WORD DOCUMENT

open the word template

copy your whole fic in there ( don't worry, mine had 450 sites, word can handle this, if there aren't to many graphics)

do a bit fine tuning, like the contents, or the heading for the chapters

insert some graphics, if you want to

export this as a pdf, see for further instructions here: word to pdf exporting

THE COVER

open gimp or any other software for editing

open the cover template as seperate layer

insert whatever you want to have on your cover

hide the cover template layer

save it as png

OR

use the canvas cover maker on the website ( this comes at a later point)

GETTING READY TO FINISH THAT SHIT

Now that you have the pdf of your book and the cover as an png we can upload everything to the site

open Lulu.com

we're going to create - print book.

When you scroll down, you have to answer if you want to publish it, or just print it for your own. ( and again I tell you DON'T TRY TO MAKE MONEY WITH FANFIC IT'S FUCKING ILLEGAL)

Then you choose the language it's written in and the category. Since there isn't one called "Fanfiction" I just choose "Fiction".

Then click on "Design your project"

UPLOAD YOUR BOOK

you have to upload that pdf you created earlier. It may take a bit time, if you have more sites ( like me 450 lol), and don't worry if it shows that the graphics are not ok. I ignored it, and I'm still happy with my book. I mean I didn't insert high resolution pics in there...

CREATING THE BOOK

next step is to decide, how your book will look like

You can decide what the interior color will be. I took color standard, bc I wanted it to have that green colors ( bc of Mesmerize is a story about some computers and viruses, so yes, a bit matrix style... just judge me)

I decided for coated white bc I love heavier paper

the book binding: this is a very personal decision. I prefer hardcover, so I choose that one

the last step is if you want it glossy or matte

then you should see the price at this point

DESIGN YOUR COVER

There are two possibilities

either you have already that png you created earlier

then you don't need to do more than open the canvas cover creator and insert your file

beware you need an account there

(just ignore it shows german, I have no idea why, my whole pc is changed in english...)

or you want to use the canvas creator( some of you know this already from wattpad)

but here I found it heavy to find out where the borders are, so you have to test and maybe change it in the end

LAST CHECK

It will upload now

and then you can see a preview of what your book will look like

if you don't like what you see, like the interior is shit, or you don't like the cover, you only need to change it.

But don't forget if you change the word document, to export it again.

If you're happy then with what you see you can add it to card

WAIT

You need to wait. I have no idea how long it lasts when you're from the US or another country. I only can say it lasts 2 to 3 weeks for delivering in germany.

but then : CONGRATULATIONS you hold your own book in your hands. And believe me: Even if nobody except for you should read it. You will be proud like hell on yourself ( and you can be, I mean you wrote a fucking story!)

[someone-ds]

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

[someone-ds]

“You deserve good things and I want to be one of them.”

— Ellen Hopkins

[someone-ds]

“The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”

— Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

[someone-ds]

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that — I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much – so very much to learn.”

— Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath

[someone-ds]

I feel so stupid. And I also feel so young.

I've always been very mature and behaved a lot older than I actually am but these past three weeks have shown me how much of a child I actually am.

I am an adult now. Technically.

But I have never felt this young and stupid.

I have also never felt this unwanted in an environment like I have today.

I feel like a burden. Like a charity case.

I am aware that it's not my fault. I am literally in my fourth week at this job, let alone industry. That's why I am here. To learn. So I shouldn't be made to feel like I do not belong and that I am nothing but a burden.

Someone to babysit.

There is one woman here who is making it especially hard for me. Being very passive aggressive and just straight up mean.

I know that the other departments are way worse and I am aware that others have had it worse but still that doesn't have to invalidate my experience and pain.

I feel like an outcast. It's horrible. Makes me think of school all over again. But in school all of us were on a same level. Same age.

This is a completely different fucking playground.

I haven't felt this lonely in a room full of people since krems. And THAT is saying something.

Maybe I am just too sensitive. And all of this is only half as bad as I am making it out to be. Maybe I'm not cut out for this job. Maybe.

But then again who do these people think they are to make me feel like this? What right do they have to make me feel like an alien when all I want to be is one of them?

This is sounding like school again. I mean that's the only social setting with a lot of people I've ever had in my life so obviously it's going to sound like school.

Well...

The minutes do not go by. The clock is standing still and with every second that passes my throat closes more and my eyes turn more sad.

I probably look like a kicked puppy. which goes to show how much of a wimp I am. Hard to believe that I used to take shit way worse than this like it was nothing. I'd just keep on walking.

How did I do that? How can one person take so much and then nothing?

I've never felt this raw and emotional in my life. I feel like I am naked, all of my emotion painted across my face. All of the little things I'm am worried about written on my forehead for people to laugh and poke fun at.

I feel like I have been striped of my pride.

worst of all.

I did that to myself.

How can a person know everything at 14 and nothing at 18?

What happened? And how do I fix this?

How can I make this feel right again?

Because I cannot stay like this for long. I'll kill myself before the first summer rain comes, I swear it.

I am not sure where to even begin fixing THIS.

What do I even have to fix? What is broken? What needs to be looked at?

I have no idea what is making me feel so childlike. So foolish. So emotional.

Do you think that there is something to fix? Or is this the new normal? Is this who I am now?

A grown ass adult suddenly realising that all they ever did was wait for 18 and never thought passed that stupid date.

Because I did it. I made it. I am an adult. At least by definition.

Nothing has changed. Expect that now if my parents ever decide that I am too much to bare they can just stop taking care of me. Now, I don't think they'd ever do that but I don't want to get anywhere near a point where my mother thinks I'm a burden to the family.

Or even worse- what she did wrong for me to turn out like this.

I know that I am very far away from this happening, that I've only been 18 for 23 days and I know that even if I'm 28 and living with my parents they'd be fine as long as I contributed with the money.

So we're fine on that front.

It's just I cannot shake this feeling of being a burden. A dead weight. A haunted memory you can't get rid of.

I feel like the plague.

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep #love quotes #love poem #diary #angst #books #work stuff #work problems

[someone-ds]

It’s been 13 days since I started my new job. I’d like to say that I am doing a remarkable job at pretending to be a functional adult.

I do my work well; I do what I am told, and I hardly complain just for the sake of complaining. Maybe just to humour my co-workers but no real heat is found in my voice when I tell people about my black toenail or the bags under my eyes.

I wouldn’t go as far and say that I love my job, I’m not quite there yet. But I do love helping and being of service. I like trying new things and learning something new every day. I love talking to people about their plans for the day or where they come from. How their corner of the world currently looks like.

Maybe I do love my job. Maybe I just love how it makes me feel. Accomplished, important, needed and honestly…loved.

I had a few hard moments here and there, do not get me wrong. I am not perfect neither do I intend to be or even claim to be perfect in ANY way. But none of those hard moments, the few seconds where I usually doubt my every decision, made me think I made the wrong choice of being here.

I am aware that it has only been 13 days and that a lot can change. But for now, I feel like I belong. Like I did the right thing.

And this feeling will fuel me for days I can assure you of that.

 It is strange to hear so many people say they are proud of you, especially those who criticised my every move. Those who spit out nasty words and fed doubts into me.

Now that I made something of myself, a respectable young adult, they cheer. They say that they are proud and never doubted my abilities.

The hurt child in me wants to scream and bang their heads against each other and cry about how unfair this all was.

But I had to handle this with grace. I nod, I thank them, I smile, I accepted the lies they tell. I have no need to tell them how hurt I was, they wouldn’t understand. Too focused on themselves to even care about how they made a young girl feel.

I cannot laugh about it yet, but a small smirk graces my lips every now and then when I think about what they said and did. How they tried to do my mothers head, tell her she failed as a mum.

Some people cannot handle seeing others do unconventional things and succeed. Because they were too afraid to open their mouth when it came to their life “choices”.

I will not bow my head and say, ‘yes ma’am, yes sir’. I will not let others dictate my life when I do not feel like it is where I’m ought to be.

I have never been quiet when it came to the bigger things in life. I hope that when the time comes, my daughter won’t either. And I also hope she won’t feel like it’s an act of pure rebellion to say what she feels is right and that she will not meet angel Samael’s fate when she does so.

Everything I have done this far into the job has been with nothing but good intentions and love. There are still many things I must learn to master. Things I’ll have to do with more grace and serenity. I sometimes feel like a spooked chicken at work, but I’ll be alright. I’ll manage like I always do. I do not want to jinx it, but I have to say. I have a good feeling about this. I hope that it remains that way.

#newjob #justturned18 #happy #sad #family #love #storytelling #generational trauma #too young #real

[someone-ds]

So this is it.

it's the first of September and I am undeniably petrified. So much so that I can't seem to do anything.

I'm about to start something new and big and important and awesome but so so so scary.

The thing I'm most afraid of is that I won't fit in and that I'm not cut out for this.

I should have more faith in my abilities, but I'm just so aware of every scar on my body that map out every wrong turn I took.

The last 4 years have held so many new beginnings and it seems that all I know how to do is fail. And I know that I got up every time but still there is no progress.

I go

I fall

I'm back up

Just to start over again from the beginning and that's just so frustrating

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep #love quotes #love poem #diary #angst #books

[someone-ds]

Constantly repeating to myself “you are not broken you are young and learning how to live” during everything I do everywhere I go all the time

[someone-ds]

I have found myself staring at my body. The way I sit, the way I speak.

Rehearsed, calculated never taking more space than absolutely needed. But somehow I can’t help but take space. In the way I talk and invite people to listen. I fill rooms. I take up more space than I would like to.

I’m not as invisible as I’d like to.

There are many areas that need fixing, that need to be tended to with nothing but patience and care.

So many that I cannot live with myself. I’ve detached myself from my mortal form. I am watching myself in a voyeurs kind of way. As if I were a book, my fate already sealed. The ending already written. Now only there to be consumed in its entirety.

I have a hard time keeping friends. They find flaws and quirks they don’t like and leave, as is their right. But the way they leave has me weeping on the floor every time. There is a lot of hatred and jealousy among us young people. And we take it out on each other as if on the battlefield. It’s ugly and unfair.

I am interesting for a limited amount of time. Then as the gold cracks and flakes off there is just a girl trying her best. A girl who is so kind-hearted and pretty and still makes mistakes. Perhaps they see me as a threat. I do not know. All I want… is to belong. Be apart of something. But it seems my destiny is to die searching.

I’ve been told awful things that I will never fully heal from. So many cuts and bruises that never got properly looked at.

The way I see myself is as if I were a blank canvas. The way I describe myself is what people have said about me. I have no idea who I am but sure I am creative and smart. I’m a team player and kind.

But am I?

My perception of myself is as if I am not a “someone” or “person”. I am concept. Clued together by the words and images I’ve been shown.

I am not sure.

I know that I’m watching myself the way a kid watches their favourite character on screen. Completely unaware of their surroundings. In trance. I’m always watching myself. I do not know how to stop.

I worry about how people perceive me. How they view me, my morals, my beliefs. The way I eat, chew, laugh, cry especially cry.

“ugly crier” “dramatic” “fake” “woman”

“pretty” “smart” “stubborn” “ungrateful” “nice” “bitch” “dog” “slut” “daughter” “musician” “bad” “egocentric”

I am moving out. My dream. The thing I’ve wished and pleaded for. Freedom. Peace of mind. My place, where I belong. Rightfully so.

I should be happy. I should feel something. But I did it again. I have unplugged my heart. I can’t allow myself to feel. Not yet. Not when there is so much on the line. Not when everyone is watching. Not when there are people hoping for my downfall. Not when everyone told me I shouldn’t.

I am scared. Scared like how I was at my first sleepover away from home. Scared like when I broke my arm. Scared like a child. It’s humbling.

My boyfriend broke up with me. He said he doesn’t love me anymore. I hung up and went to work the next day. A bit hollower than the day before.

My dad spoke to me in a tone he has never used before. I felt like a child. It hurt.

My co-worker called me and threatened me.

My grandma forgot how old I am.

I spilled my lunch on my favourite jacket at work.

My boss looked at me with so much pity I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

My mother is growing old.

My brother just doesn’t get better, and it makes my breathing hard.

Who am I when no one’s around? But most importantly who am I when there are people?

I’ve never felt so distanced from my problems. I’m looking at a chessboard. And in my mind it’s just a game it doesn’t matter what happens. It’s already been written, set in motion so long ago that now I just must wait and see.

I went clubbing for the first time. I hate myself a little more than before.

Tomorrow is Monday. I will go to work and swallow my words. Sit and stare.

My boss will ask if I’m okay. I’ll say I’m fine. We’ll both know I’m lying. He will look at me as if I were Sunday’s crossword puzzle that he can’t seem figure out. He’ll say that he is always available. I’ll thank him and leave. He’ll wonder if he said anything wrong and shake his head.

He cares. At least he wants me to think that he does. I think be both know that I might never.

#love #i love you #heartbreak #poetry #deep #love quotes #love poem #diary #angst #books #depressed