seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Yemen
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I wake up. I consume media. I wish my life was different.
I make no effort to change it. I consume more media. I go to sleep.
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Chapter XV: Silence
In which the Dancer realizes that she's the one hurting herself by holding on to the memory of her love. She thinks that only by his side the voices in her head stop screaming of self-hate and memories she longs to forget, so she holds on, even to the detriment of her sanity.
Wounded by the very pen that bleeds her story The writer’s whim adorns the verses to her beautiful demise Relentless in their call, her demons sing on wings of fury As the frailty of her grip, like her sanity, declines Worlds collapse where ever-after bloom shall flowers Ashes piling up around a monument to all we knew To all we stand for To all that could be but it’s not, so we just threw So here I am declaring my reliance For only by your side my tired mind can rest in silence My demons quiet, my wings, released… -S For M.
Ted the bullshitter and proud of it!
I now know why I don’t drink white wine, can’t deal with the banging headache..🤦♀️🤦♀️
I’m doing a bit of a personal spin on inktober and make it a (possibly occasional) thematic month of shame.
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Self-discipline is tough, because I’m the boss of me,
and the captain runs a real loose ship.
Being venomous would be so fucking cool, admit it.
*bites inside of my mouth* Oh fuck!
I got so drunk yesterday that I joined a local book club and now if I don’t read this novel by next month they are going to be disappointed in me
