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these two sentences hit me harder than I ever expected
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.
Feb 28, 2024
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“To exist in this body is war,” she whispered, her voice so soft it nearly escaped me, as if she recoiled from the weight of the words that had slipped past her lips.
“Every day, I am dissected as if I am the anomaly in this world, not the systems they built upon the backs of those who came before,” she chuckled, as if this truth — this burden — had been her constant companion.
“Looking at her then, perhaps truly seeing her for the first time, the enormity of it struck me. Somewhere between then and now, life’s weariness had etched itself onto her face. Lines I had once interpreted as joy and laughter now seemed more like scars, healed over with a stubborn refusal to be erased, a silent declaration: “This will not break me.” And for a fleeting moment, I had believed it. But now, beneath the willow, where sunlight once filtered through the leaves in a warm embrace, a sense of her depleted fight hung heavy in the air. The light itself felt different now, thin and frail, mirroring how all the blood she had shed seemed to have cost her more than if she had never bled at all….
After the Fire, We Remain, page 30 — P.N.G
May 8, 2025
Her words slammed into the soil of my soul and anything I am, think, or do will have grown from this
Dec 15, 2024
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i remember wondering what they must have been thinking. while the bombs were being dropped, while their high school crush was sent to fight a war he didn't want. i wondered what they spent their days doing. what their older coworkers were whispering about in break rooms. what the best cook in their friend group was thinking as they fed dinner parties with ritz pies and canned vegetable casseroles. i wondered how it felt to keep spinning when the world was falling apart, surely the citizens knew better, surely they spoke up, surely their bones were alight with rage and confidence and desperation! surely it felt cataclyismic. that's how it's always been taught. looking back, we see the patterns. looking forward, we just see another day.
these days, as my rights are being taken from me every morning, as the farmers are scared to farm and the reporters cannot report and the people are stirring unsteadily- these days i know all too well. i cut my strawberries in fours wondering if next week there will be any left. i listen to conversations in break rooms and elevators, making a tally of who's husband has a red hat and who talks about lowering taxes and whos eyes shift to the floor whenever someone says the word immigrant. i savor, save, and wonder. i worry, don't we all worry?
i hold my lover tight and blanket us in gratitude, praying it is enough that we never discover how lucky and rare this moment is.
when i was young i signed myself up for the revolution because it was exciting. then because it was necessary, and now because it is all there is. we expected songbirds and battle cries and passion, instead we carry casual, mundane grief. maybe there is no better future. maybe all there is is the hope of one.
so i no longer wonder. i know what it is to be one of the unlucky ones. i know the lack of glory in living through the next generations 'never again'. we are not revolutionaries. we are not martyrs. we are people just getting through the day. no one will write me a biography when i am gone, my diary will not be published. but my hands will be dirty and my soul will be light when they accuse me of the crime of being human. i lived, despite it all, during it all. isn't that what it's all about?
Jan 28, 2025
Top Recs from @ttwardz
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enjoy a fun little moment of loud satisfying destruction
Mar 8, 2024
go out at night in the sand in the dark (if it’s safe) and just take in the stars and that loud silence of nothing but the ocean
optionally be mildly scared of how dark and still everything is and what might be crawling around your feet
Feb 2, 2025