ONE BIG SUNFLOWER

Category: Uncategorized

And you fight so hard without even knowing what you’re fighting for

by retrodiction

It wasn’t so much that she wanted to die
As that she couldn’t find a way to live
It wasn’t so much living as it was surviving
She merely existed, if even that
It was all fear without
And darkness within

I went into hiding eight years ago and I never really came out since. There are little bits and pieces I let out sometimes- desperately, unwittingly, yet bravely all the same. But everytime I dare myself to even peek from behind this colossal metal door, I get scared back into slamming it shut again. Heavy, dark and bolted- trapped from without and trapped from within.

I have more locks now than I can count. More than I’ve had eight years ago. More than I’ve ever had before. I keep wishing I could save myself, but now… Now I’m not so sure.

by retrodiction

never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever. never. 

I can say that I’ve tried. Some things just aren’t meant to be. It’ll be over sooner than I know it. This too won’t last.

by retrodiction

Rebellious Dreams :: Wild Adventures.

A Dreamer's Canvas

It’s been said that one must venture to New York to transform a dream into a reality. After all, it’s the city that never sleeps…and dreams never do take a rest. xx.

View original post

by Thought Catalog

THESE SOUND LIKE SOME PRETTY DIFFICULT 15 THINGS. D A M N.

Beyond Honoured

by retrodiction

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

Thank you Russell Boyle for nominating me for this award:

very-inspiring-blogger

This is abostively posilutely amazing! And i’m most definitely beyond honoured to know that anyone would find me inspiring:’)

Rules:

1. Link back to the blogger who nominated you. Done.

2. Post the award image to your page. Done.

3. Share 7 facts about yourself. 

  1. I have a tattoo on my feet.
  2. I want to be a writer/ have a go at any writing related jobs in future.
  3. I might have a tinsy love-hate relationship with smart phones. (technology repels me)
  4. I absolutely hate WhatsApp’s “last seen” function.
  5. I love smelling new books.
  6. I like pressing my face to warm fresh-out-of-the-printer pieces of paper.
  7. I am currently replaying Pokemon Crystal.

PS. I do realise how big of a dork these 7 facts make me sound…

4. Nominate other blogs and inform them about it. 

Hovercraftdoggy – Absolutely amaaaazing photographs.
I don’t really know a lot of blogs, but…. if I do come across inspiring ones I’ll be sure to add them to the list! Enjoy(:
 

by retrodiction

I absotively posilutely love this.

Drop Dead Gorgeous

 

Hold Your Head High

hold your head high

and take your thighs rubbing together

as a sign that you are alive.

 

take the fat between your fingers

as proof

that you have lived

 

and take the handles on your waist

as hooks for loving

or for kids.

 

hold your head high

and know the dimples in your skin

are not mistakes or folly

but something nature did.

 

you are a craft and creature,

each curve is solely yours,

there’s beauty and there’s wonder

in each “flaw” of less and more.

 

so hold your head high my dear

and straighten out your back,

for art is yours and truth lies there

in the body you don’t lack.

View original post

by retrodiction

Drop Dead Gorgeous

I’ve been on a poetry kick lately. Word expression is always where I flee whenever my depression acts up. Poetry lets me say things in a roundabout way, lets me say what I want to say without having to put it out there in plaint, blunt language. Poetry lets me write with raw emotion, to use the figurative for what is too hard, too awkwardly broken to say in the literal. There is power in poetry, too. There’s power in the crafting of words to create a song, to paint a picture, to entwine a reader in the words and leave them with more knowledge than they had before yet still wondering perhaps what it all “really means.” Poetry lets me escape the world of cold hard fact and seek refuge in metaphor and possibility. It’s a world of fantasy and fiction, the world of poetry. It’s a world of…

View original post 107 more words

C.S Lewis

by retrodiction

“I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.”

– C.S Lewis

I remember saying, some time ago, that no one can save us except ourselves, that we can be our own prince charming. What if I was wrong…

I don’t feel strong enough for this battle anymore, and I want someone to save me, from myself. I don’t know how to speak the truth, let alone speak anymore. I can’t put these thoughts into feelings and feelings into words. Writing was supposed to help with that. But i don’t think anything’s working anymore. Everything is broken. Broken beyond repair.

Toska

by retrodiction

Have you ever just lied wide awake at night, physically and mentally exhausted, yet your mind is still running at a thousand miles per hour. Like a freight train speeding for a head on collision into a dead end, a brick wall. And you find that there is nothing coherent about these thoughts. You skip from one memory to another before you even had the time to process the very first one. Nothing makes sense, and you wish your mind would’ve just listened when you yelled “SHUT UP” the first three times. (Silently, of course) But all you feel is the weight of the world pressing down on you, suffocating you. And never before have you felt so small, so insignificant.

Sometimes in these moments I can hear a ringing in my ear. The most persistent and annoying ringing that does nothing but add to the noise my mind makes. It’s as if there’s a circus going on around me but I’m the only one who can hear it. Someone once asked me, what if this ringing held the secret messages of the Universe. Secret messages not meant for our ears. So what if, just what if, these messages were exactly what we need. A simple solution, a word of assurance, maybe a familiar comfort.

At worse times I can feel my heart changing. That thing where your heart feels as though it was expanding. Swelling and overflowing with emotions that it’s almost pressing against the bones that line your ribcage. It’s pressing into your lung’s personal space and you literally feel like you  Just. Can’t. Breathe. Your breathes are not long enough, deep enough, full enough. Yet it doesn’t stop expanding. Until your chest cavity feels like nothing else is there except for this swelling heart. Trapped tight in the limited space between the back of your ribcage and the front of your left shoulder blade.

But of course that’s not even remotely possible. It’s not physically possible for your heart to expand to this ridiculous size. Or for your lungs to feel like they aren’t working anymore even though, clearly, you’re still breathing. You’re still breathing. You’re still alive. And there just aren’t any words for it. There are no words for these utterly illogical things that you’re feeling. For how you feel. What you feel. Why you feel the way you feel.

It’s moments like these where I feel like I don’t recognise myself. Where I am, what I’m doing, or where I’m going. It’s like I’m like lost inside my mind. Sometimes it’s a labyrinth. Sometimes it’s a huge huge house filled with nothing but trapdoors. Other times, it’s just a white empty room. But always there isn’t a way out. I’ve been lost for a long while now, and all I’m afraid of is that I might never find my way back.
 

Disillusioned

by retrodiction

No, you don’t love her. You can’t love her. Can’t you see it, she’s unloveable. Look at her. Look! Not just see. The flaws are overwhelming. So glaringly obvious even the sight of her scares me.

Sometimes i look at her and i see bright, cheery, joyful faces. Most times i look at her, and all i can think of is ‘Why do you even exist?’ No one cares for it, so why? I know you’ll all say i’m being overly-harsh and just plain cruel. But honestly, if you knew her, even half as well i do,  you’d see that what i’m saying is merely an understatement.

It’s so pathetic to see. Watch her go picking and choosing when already there is nobody left for her to pick or choose. Listen to her, whine and whine, what exactly is it that she wants?! Look at that smile, plastered over her face. She doesn’t mean any of the things she say.

The Great Pretender! Lying is what i call it.

Pay attention, and you’ll find her desperately hiding the sad fact that she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong in our world. Maybe she ought to be banished to some secret world. Far off and out of reach. No, not a secret world like Narnia. Nothing magical.  Maybe a secret world like where the Gorgons live. Or like labyrinths filled with Minotaurs. Or Groundhog day, in hell.

All i’m saying is… How can you love her when even they don’t. Someone should just tell her the truth. Tell her how repulsive she really is. Tell her how she thinks she’s all that when really… she’s nothing.

She’s a cold, unfeeling, waste of a person. Not as incapable of emotions as a machine, but not deserving of human emotions either.

She’s unloveable.