Dear Diary - Blog Posts
Letter #5
The sharpness traces Gentle and cold Pressure brings warmth, a gasp Purely pleasurable relief Muscles forced into stiffening All while melting to belief "Red is the colour of passion" I tell myself as it trickles down my side Where engravings sing of promises Living life, finally feeling satisfied Guilty yet remorseless "What petal has yet to fall?" So sickly sweet, but is no treat Just a sucker left to crawl
Date Written: 7th of August, 2023
Letter #4
It rained in my head for years But look at all the flowers that bloomed from it As they grew I thought of us Our resilience created such beauty Now, as they come to wilt I find myself thinking solely of you
Date Written: 7th of August, 2023
Letter #3
You're a toxin, a poison built to dissolve the lives of everyone you touch with that deformity of an organ you call a heart. Avert your gaze and ignore your texts, decline any sense of desperation you use to cling to those who're above your station. A lowly imperfection so intent on infecting any mercy you're shown, what wilting flower wouldn't weep given the chance to witness such a pathetic display of insecurities. Be grateful you are not yet eradicated, For time and the likes of you do not cross kindly. A childish fool, you were never worthy of humanity. To: Myself "With love - whatever that means."
Date Written: 6th of August, 2023 Words I had written to myself after a mental lapse.
Self-inflicted guilt laces my lungs with tar, it gets so hard to breathe. Sometimes I wonder if everyone feels this weight in their chests all the time, heavy with doubts and hesitations. I'm sure even the most put together people have things that bring them down when it gets quiet, which is sad to think about. All beauty needs to be broken before it blooms, but wouldn't it be lovely to simply indulge in peace for once? To quell the heartbreak inside is something special, I can only hope I may one day join the people who have found their rest from all of the emotional aches. Idk, i'm tired. it's all a lot.
found some screenshots of the notes i made half a year ago. half a year ago i went through my worst heartbreak. somehow i can’t bring myself to regret anything. i have so much love to give and that is a strength. i can forgive and live freely.
Temporary
I have been meeting people since long, I have seen temporary people, I have been with few. They are sometimes the most amazing people you will ever meet.
I met a person, temporary or not, I didn't knew if they will be here with me forever or not, we met, we talked, we went out a few times, and it was all amazing, felt like life couldn't get any better. We were eyesore to everyone around us, I wrote in my diary for them
"I have been living life in this dark abyss, the black and white world, they have brought back the colours of life to me, it all feels beautiful"
They went away, I was drowned in colours, all the colours they gave me. all the red, green, blue.
It should have been end of it all.
their return brought back all the colours, it was all rainbows and butterflies, it was as if I was a little kid who has been handed the crayons for the first time, excited, bubbly and ready to paint the world in their colours.
but sometimes, temporary people should remain temporary, they are meant to be.
maybe the temporary people shouldn't be given too much information about your life, that's the reason they are not permanent, right? because they are non-judgemental as long as they don't know about you.
Once you start making a temporary person a permanent one in your life, that is the moment you are destined to ruin your own feelings and respect for that person. such kind of people are meant to know very little about you, just meet them, have non-judgemental fun with them and move on. holding onto them will ruin your own mental being.
the return of that person in my life, was a pleasant surprise, but all the colours slowly blended into each other, creating a thick, viscous shade of crimson red. it was blood, my blood, the blood of my feelings. the slow, viscous decline of my sanity blending into some bit my self-destructing nature, triggering it all. just like a juicer cutting down all the pieces of fruits into a gooey mess, slowly turning the fruit into a thick paste of nothingness, just pure insides of the fruit.
for all I know, I was husk of a person remaining, all of my insides have been chopped up into the pieces, the pieces of my being, the pieces of my existence, broken, broken, broken down, mixed, churned, gulped and eaten alive.
the fruits which stay put tend to rot faster, they get replaced with new fruit. young and fresh. the one fear I hold came true to me, again.
I wrote for them again in my diary:
"all the colours which came back, were nothing but shades of red"
(Image taken from Pinterest)
~ Necromancer
I swear one time it was like I went colour blind
So much fun today went all the way to the national history museum, I think that's the name...
29/01/25