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Latest Posts by itsrainyheart - Page 4
shaking crying throwing up i will burn the world i will kms
“we are designed for hurt,” i said to him one afternoon on his couch, and he asked, “do i hurt you?” and i showed him the divots his fingers left on my wrist where they had felt for my pulse. “where else,” he said, “where else did i hurt you” and i turned my cheek so he could see the side that i was hiding under the sun, the side that has little crescent scars from the graze of his nails. “is it just my hands” he said next and i rolled up my sleeves to show him the scabbed burns he left with his lips. “but these are old wounds” he said, “do they still hurt?” and i unbuttoned my shirt to show him the exit wound over my heart. he leaned in and his eyes were a live wire over my ribs, and he pointed to the clumsy stitches i had made and said, “you did this to yourself.”
— zhen; ko-fi
need to do math but this loneliness is all-consuming
[sitting completely still in my own bed] this world is gutting me like a fish
She hasn’t responded to you yet because she’s busy being openly pathetic on Tumblr. Give it some time
“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you
i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of their band's logo on your ribs you got when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.
my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.
but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.
oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.
you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.
when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.
oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.
in the wake of losing someone we find parts of ourselves that were buried under the noise of our lives
everybody's got that one homie posting straight from the valley of the shadow of death
Slow down, it's ok. Very few things in life are absolute
Deadlines can be flexible, career paths are flexible, relationships become close and far and close again, it's all going to be ok
another year is ending and I want you to know that it is okay if you:
have not healed from the things that happened/did not happen from six months ago. just because the year is ending it does not mean your grief is too.
don't have any "fun" NYE plans to ring in the new year. this life is yours to live across days and months and years, and you can celebrate days other than the ones heavily marketed and shoved down your throat to shroud you in severe FOMO.
have no resolutions or goals for 2024 laid out in elaborate lists or shared on social media or with your friends. you are braving through this life trying to do your best every day and hold the fort and so of course you know, deep down you know what is needed from you for you going forward and of course you are going to work in that direction. good luck love.
have not become a "better" version of yourself by any of the tangible or conventional measures. that kind of bettering is mostly to serve others, not yourself.
are not happy with yourself/your life as it is now. you're a work-in-progress, remember? and if you're progressing in a direction you do not like, then it's time to change the blueprints and the strategy.
take time off social media around this time to protect your mental health and whatever little joy you have managed to keep.
don't want to spend too much time reflecting on how this past year went and doing various forms of 2023-wrapped. again, it's your life. you can also revisit this year in memories and pictures and feelings whenever you'd like. it's not like you don't still visit 2012, 2017, and 2022, right?
feel disconnected from your friends, family, lover. I know this is "ideally" a time to be celebrated with your loved ones. but life is not ideal, is it? it's just life. and if right now you are not feeling the love, the joy, or just don't have the headspace or social energy to engage , that's alright.
are finding comfort in simpler things like a TV show from the 90s or that book you first read at sixteen or that slice of strawberry cake or a random post like this you come across.
don't feel hopeful, encouraged, or excited for 2024. given everything that's happened in the last couple of years, on the macro and micro level, it's only natural for you to feel weary as well as wary. when the good things happen, when the healing happens, when things begin working in your favour over time, you will automatically feel all those things. it's okay if until then you choose to be neutral.
“Growing Around Grief”
Lois Tonkin, 1996
yeah sorry they gave me an open wound instead of a heart that's why im like this
In the club
narratives about doomed love that aren’t romantic in nature. the love between siblings who understand each other the most but are growing apart no matter how much they try to come back to one another. the love between friends whose life paths pull them apart and they never see each other again, only remembering the face of a once kind childhood. the love for a hometown that year by year becomes less and less the one that raised you until you are a foreigner in your own backyard. there was no stopping it. the love was there and it mattered and you can never come back again.
not yearning not longing but a worse third thing
i have so much rage in me one day i think i will explode. i dont think i know how to forgive as much as i know how to forget
May you be released from wanting things that aren’t meant for you.
I come from a long line of people with something wrong with them
this is the study snoopy. he bestows good fortune to all the students that cross his path this exam season. he believes in you and so do i
All I need is for someone to gently cup my face and tell me I'm not as doomed as I feel.
In the final scenes of the BoJack Horseman ending, the show plays out with Catherine Feeny’s song “Mr. Blue”, which becomes a poignant capstone on his relationship with Diane. The song speaks of a tumultuous yet loving relationship, when they care for one another, but it’s ultimately unhealthy. The lyrics, such as “I have to go now,” reference Diane’s move to Texas, and leaving BoJack and "Hollywoo" behind. It backs up just how important her decision is for her own health and happiness.
The lyrics of "Mr. Blue" also refer to BoJack’s own future, and how though audiences have to leave him behind, it's clear he'll actually be alright. "Mr. Blue, Don't hold your head so low that you can't see the sky / Mr. Blue, It ain't so long since you were flying high.”
you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve watched twilight recently. am I currently watching it as we speak? yes. the team Edward grind doesn’t stop. it’s a lifestyle, but you wouldn’t get it
i am not my mother and i am not my father but a third worse thing
I post for the bitches that used to get in trouble for reading under the desk during class in elementary school
hey god what does one do when the loneliness gets to them
After this year, I actually want to hug myself tight because I'm still standing
I love you so much I hope we get reborn as housecats who sleep together like puzzle pieces