edgar allan poe's raven

next time someone tries to tone down your whimsy, tell them passion thrives on eccentricity not on routine.

Would you rather let your nightmares come true or forgive your mother?

Yes, indeed i am not happy for others. I am jealous; raw, scarred, hot bubbling poisonous jealousy. Every room I have walked into, I never stayed, I never felt I belonged. Every door I walked into, I knew I would leave. How wonderful, How amazing it must feel to belong somewhere. To walk into a place and be hugged with the air of familiarity and safety. Good for you I guess. May you thrive. But I do not have the will to continue walking from one door to another, looking for a reason, a sliver of hope to stay. My heart has shrivelled, spilling noxious black poison, maybe I am not worthy to belong anywhere. Maybe that's my punishment, a repentance for yearning, for trying to hold on to something that I do not deserve.

October's over. Reminding everyone that the only way out is through. Keep going, be proud of yourself and never compare your life with anyone else. Life is not a competition. Live it.

And when death finally finds me, I will be standing arms wide breathing a sigh of relief, asking him what took him so long.

...and just like that, the little girl became the monster from under her bed she was always scared of.

a child born in chaos thinks death is freedom

always the replaced, never the forever.

-bearer of dreams, a mausoleum of betrayals and a dead end of hope.