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I often find myself at constant battle with my brain and self. Its a constant reoccurring thing when I find myself in a new setting, surrounded by new people, a new experience overall. I know that my emotions shouldn't be hard to regulate, so why are they?
In a sense it may be hormonal, but it doesn't explain how it makes be feel small, the squeeze of my heart when I sense a change of tone, or the urge to question everything.
It is tiring, the need to make sure dozens of times I'm not hated or people are just being kind out of pity. I'm aware that the world must be constantly spinning and it harbors no love for a single individual, but god does the feeling of being lonely and not vied for constantly make me feel alien. Some moments I feel like a saint for being welcomed while others make me feel like a devil for even feeling anything negative.
What is the use of being somewhere if you are to be forgotten?
Maybe I'm vain, a coward, or both. I don't necessarily need validation yet I want it. I wish to be cradled, spoiled if you will and told that yes, I am totally correct in the way others view me and vice versa. But alas, that's not the way to cookie crumbles.
The world as I stated previously does not harbor love for a single individual and will keep spinning, and in turn it is your job to keep up. To stay behind or move forward is your choice. One second it may seem as the world stops just for you, only to pick up again in it's fast pace momentarily after.
Sometimes I feel guilty for feeling foreign where I should be at home, but doesn't everyone from time to time?
3d ago
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For someone who claims to identify so closely with solitude, uncovering just how tethered I was to the emotions of people I love was a crispy realization. Of course, that attachment is the basis for any kind of relationship. You cannot claim to “have someone” in your life if you do not feel some kind of emotional connection towards them. The stronger the connection, the stronger the relationship. We all know this. However, there is something to be said about a relationship that is “too good”; a bond so strong due to its shocking lack of tension. In hindsight of various broken and fragmented connections I’ve been apart of, any relationship that exists while remaining entirely unscathed now kind of terrifies me.
I believe there can be such a thing as “too much love”, and I think those who have given or received it know when they have done so. It’s a mistake anyone is capable of making. Imagine a relationship so polished, free from any erosion (visible or otherwise); seemingly perfect. This type of connection can only be established through a building of trust and an abundance of time. However, I’ve come to learn that the more impeccable bonds tend to break easy when faced with their first real blow. Birds only crash into the cleanest of glass.
*"If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it...*"
I don’t want excess. For the food of love, I am no glutton. I eat until I am full and push my plate aside. I used to love like my life depended on it. I put those people whom I adored on the highest of pedestals, framed them in my gallery and admired new details every time we shared a visit. Maybe I just hadn’t been wronged enough to ever think that I could be wounded by those I dote on so heavily. What is it with loving and being loved that makes feeling hurt seem so impossible? Why must love shatter all preconceived expectations of what emotion is? Is love really so massive, so gargantuan that it conquers all other feeling?
Yes, and no. At least that’s what I think. This is all just what I think. I don’t want to come across as some great romantic or lovesick puppy or old friend. I’m just trying to figure out the right way to love, like everyone else.
Mar 16, 2025
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i didn't think they were when we first met. i mean, why would i? they were suave, confident, hot. filled to the brim with sticky hubris and emotion. but everyone has a vice, and the best of people keep theirs well hidden. so i find myself here, the place where all good characters begin-- in love. i definitely wasn't expecting it, but that's another story entirely.
i think insecurity is a cautious devil. like the fairy stories i was raised on, it's cunning, a trickster. it masquerades as many things- pride, confidence, and anger being the most prevalent flavors. my lover is none of these things, save maybe a bravado that only comes from finally having the courage to live truly as oneself after years of running. this bravado is enticing, but not necesarily a symptom. perhaps the greater fault is that i am entirely consumed by their personhood. i, like a crocodile on a winters day, bask in the sunlight of their soul. if my limbs were iron i would carve wheels from pure stone and a wagon of aged wood and use it to drag myself to their feet. yet, love is farsighted, and time has revealed the true deliciousness of their personhood rests on the facet that they too, are human.
so, we make our bed in the meadows and we fight our battles in the night. i speak more than i listen, they keep feelings like secrets. they shrivel and burrow to avoid, whereas i become louder to confront. our love is indeed an unlikely story. but i like it, and i want to make it. so, i find myself getting quieter, conceeding more. i let them win and ask them to decide. they do, and we fight sometimes. they would rather be disappointed than rejected. god, don't we all.
i speak in riddles and they in fact. maybe we are too different but we don't let it deter us, for we are far more the same than we could ever realize. still, when i speak plainly they assume puzzles, when i gently correct they quiver, when i say too much they internalize, communication rought by years of passive agressive parents and partners before me. i, who have known none of this, continue my ramblings, wanting only to share more of myself with my lover. i say the wrong thing. there is no wrong. i say things. they hurt.
i don't often mean it the way they take it. their interpretation is a faulty compass that rarely points to true north. sometimes the sheer polarity of their interpretation shocks me. i say i'm tired, they ask if i want them to leave. my direct mind cannot wrap around their curved one. if i wanted them to leave i would have asked. and i would never want such a thing. i say i am scared to become dull. they apologize for ruining me. i ask them what they want, they cannot give an anwer. insecurity is not a trait, it is a tyrant. i see them beneath the ruling scepter but i cannot budge them out from under it.
so i try to be gentle. i speak softly. i conceed. i give them exactly what they ask for. i have been trained on what to avoid. i wonder if this training is making me trickier, or more like the partners and parents that made them this way in the first place. i am no saint, i wish i could learn to shut my desperate eager mouth, a chore i have resisted and fought since childhood with the will and stubborness that remains unchanged. still i ache. the constant intent on misunderstanding me ages my soul. i feel the ache begging them from within my loving eyes. "see me as i am, lover," it cries, "please hear me as i am."
Jan 13, 2025
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Loneliness prevails! I would much rather live purely in solitude for ever and ever than waste another precious second in the presence of someone who has little skin in the game of knowing me or seeing me. Hearing me! I wonder why you keep me around if all your hearts desire is to hear the sound of your own voice.
It makes no difference if it’s me or anyone for that matter.
For all you know or even care I am merely an ottoman for you to rest your feet on, or a coffee table meant simply to pedestal your various notebook scrawlings and half-read books. I am a file cabinet. I have it here, dated, what you Thought and what you felt about work, or about your friends. ask me, I have it all.
And I loved it. I loved knowing you. I wanted to. I investigated and interrogated. I poured over it all with great curiosity, praying for all my red threads to weave a tapestry of you.
but I can’t remember the last time you asked me something about myself. When the opportunity arises, and god forbid, I Take it, you can barely hold your breath. Its like a shark sensing blood. You just can’t wait to talk talk talk talk talk.
But hey, it’s your life, and baby, I’m just living in it.
Dec 10, 2024
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I think that their story is overshadowed by other greek love (if you can even call some that) stories like Orpheus and Eurydice, Hades and Persephone, and Aphrodite and Adonis. I analyzed this piece for my art class in the first semester of junior year and am still working on it for a study; it's cool actually how something that takes seconds to admire can take hours to gain insight. Greek myths I think prove that there's a bit of human in everyone; forgiveness and redemption, power and betrayal, love and hate.
2d ago
I cried like a baby the other day, and honestly I'm glad I did.
In my core class I was doing some research on my EE topic, mainly focusing on Marina Abramović since I'm obsessed with her work so obviously my essay is revolved around her.
Anyways,
Amidst my research I took in time to view a fuller extent of The Artist is Present'. I knew it was an all day things, how people lined up to view it and even how celebrities such as Alan Rickman and Bjork sat with Abramović. The main thing about this was to have a conversation without words and instead utilize eyes, expressions, and sighs.
I know there are photos and videos of people crying and such when meeting Abramović, but she wouldn't have any extreme reactions other then smiling or sometimes shedding a single tear. Moreover, she would not move her arms nor extend them to the person sitting across from her.
Ulay was a German performance artist who had a relationship with Abramović with twelve years and after mutually agreeing to separating, they decided to meet each other at the great wall of China. The two started at opposite ends and met at the middle which took three months, they hugged, and this act was called 'Lovers'.
I love artist lore especially when it's about two people who have history together in the same profession.
Anywho so one day while Abramović is seated with eyes shut, a guy takes a seat on front of her and when they lock eyes the two immediately becone teary eyed.
Because it's Ulay and their first time seeing each other in years.
They cry, laugh, smile, and for the first time extends her arms to hold Ulay's hands, to which he takes.
So yeah, seeing it made me bawl and it's overall such a powerful clip. I think everyone should watch it.
I think too that it encapsulates that despite growing far from a previous loved one, the emotions are still kept in tact waiting for a chance to sprout again.
Feb 20, 2025
I am super excited I'm going on a roadtrip with my wonderful boyfriend which also equals endless questions and my annoying meter knows no bounds.
I have matcha, my Sonny Angel, my lip combo, his hoodie, cherry Tylenol, Massive Attack and Portishead I am absolutely unstoppable.
1d ago