#on hyperfixations

And even if you'll never really "move on" from it, because you were a teenager, and people hurt you, and you heard the words of an anthem, and you came to love that country and those characters, maybe you can build something new, too. Because some part of you, you want something new, too. You want to learn, and to grow, and to make new things, not just sit there with this story that you'll probably always love, always love, always love.

You can have both.

I know you tried to "move on", and here you are again. And it's something worth remembering, it's something special, something worth loving.

reference video

Zani: we close at FIVE

Lumi: FREE SHIPPING

Baizhi: LET IT GO, LET IT GOOOO

Yangyang: must've been the wind

Chixia her liberation is THE SAME as Reaper ult from ow: die, d i e, D I E

Luuk: ibuPROFEN

Rover: [sigh] here we go again

Verina: touch some grass :D

Buling: SKILL ISSUEEEE

Lupa: [STRAIGHT UP HOWLING]

Brant: [STEEL PIPE NOISES]

Chisa: rest in PIECES

Jiyan: 'SIC EM BOY (Qingloong)

Lynae: surprise! gas leak :D

Yuanwu: ONE PUUUUUUUNCHHHH

Sanhua: GET DOWN MADAM MAGISTRATE

Shorekeeper: meta is temporary, I am eternal

Mortefi: you're COOKED

Youhou: OPEN INVENTORY

Cantarella: mmwa, dismissed

I’ve always been cursed to find the poetry in everything.

When I’m proud, when I’m upset, when I’m everything in between,

Words just flow out of me.

They flow out of me when I’m drenched in sweat, driving down windy roads and screaming Midwest emo songs.

I stare at the moving shadows because my hand is too shaky to turn on my bright lights.

I’ve been forced to shove this poetry behind me

Because I only write about one damn thing,

And it’s over now. I always think it’s over, 

But then it hits me in an email

At my friend’s sixteenth birthday party.

I catch a glimpse of it, but I can’t open it.

The blue circle keeps spinning

And I wait and wait and wait and wait,

And it doesn’t load,

And I don’t want it to load.

I don’t want to know how I’ve failed.

Even though I’ve had so many successes,

This failure is the only damn thing that I care about.

Because it sends a message.

I poured my heart and soul into the one thing I thought defined me.

She was better than me. 

She wasn’t chained like I was.

She’s moving on,

And I have to stay right where I am.

My words will forever be marred by her shadow. She’ll always be a part of them. 

I have no right to be proud of my work when it all stems from her. 

I thought I was untouchable. 

Because writing is all I do,

And it’s all her fault,

And this is my whole identity now.

I try to remind myself I’m human,

And I’m so much more than this

As the headlights race past me.

She has the freedom to write whatever she wants. 

She isn’t stuck in the dungeons of an island prince, begging for freedom.

She has the upper hand. 

Everyone has the upper hand against me.

I blankly stare at the railroad tracks ahead. They remind me of someone.

I hope he’s proud of me.

“Self-preservation is the best form of resistance” only rings true

When your mind isn’t built to self destruct.

The world I built to protect myself collapsed just a few days ago.

Or maybe hours? I can’t tell.

I sat idle as my chains were slipped off my wrist

I was free, but freedom was the last thing I wanted.

They were my chains. My very own chains.

I decorated them with sparkly moon shapes and flowers and gold,

And I fell in love with them.

I didn’t get to say goodbye. 

I watched as the neon lights all flickered out when I looked away for a split second.

I had a bustling world of love and hope in those chains. They held me back, but I would be lost if I was free.

Everything is quiet now.

It’s just me and the empty black void where words used to spill. 

Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to return to that godforsaken city again without the chains.

I hope it’s someday soon. 

I hope I’m never confined to shitty notes app poetry again. 

For now, I’ll hang their family portrait next to all the others. 

I’ll admire them from afar, their glittering dark eyes a reminder of all that I am now free from- a reminder of how far I’ve come.

It’s a reminder that I’m a human being entirely detached from the bloody blue handprints she left on my bathroom floor. 

The lights in my neighbor’s garden flicker off.