barunix
barunix
I’m Barunix
97 posts
Just another kid chasing for happiness he can only find within himself 🙂
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barunix · 5 years ago
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Am I trying to find something lost? Or am I losing something found?
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barunix · 6 years ago
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You did what you did. All you can do right now is learn from your mistakes
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barunix · 6 years ago
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You really are a selfish person
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barunix · 6 years ago
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So ayun po, I fucked up
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barunix · 6 years ago
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All I can say is sorry
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barunix · 6 years ago
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I’m not ok for being ok
- The heart yearning for more
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barunix · 6 years ago
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I’ve never wanted someone like this so bad before
- The heart yearning for more
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barunix · 6 years ago
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?
Questions, questions, and questions. Questions haunted me when everything fell apart. Questions that tugged me in the night. Questions that were whispered in my ear throughout the day. Questions that were repeated on and on and on, even in my dreams. Questions of, “Was it a mistake?”, “What have you done?”, and “Why do you still miss her?”
I ended it because I thought it was better for both of us. But I was slowly gravitating to the realization that what I did was a mistake, a mistake that I should patch up and fix. Nights came by when at the start I’d just remember her. I don’t know why, maybe because I was just so used to talking to her that it was new that I wasn’t. It just became my daily routine of telling everything that happened and will probably happen throughout my day to someone. She filled the hole in my heart, where I used to fill empty. But without her, the gap inside me showed up again, but it became bigger.
The emptiness filled me. It no longer became a part of me, but it was already me. I spent days loathing with tear-filled eyes and noodle-like limbs. I couldn’t move, I didn’t want to move. I felt like a total dunce and arse for doing the things I did. Maybe I really am an arse, now that I think of it. I thought that this was just a phase that I’d get over with after a few weeks, but I was wrong, so wrong.
Four or five months passed by and the feeling was still there. It was not as intense as before but it was still there. The hands that tried to caress me were less, but still present. The deafening shouts were silenced to a whisper but still there. Some prying eyes were shut close, but some were still lurking and watching my every move. But the pain was still as fresh as the wound that never closed.
The wound still as fresh as ever, still gave me pain like the way it did four or five months ago. There were occasional sprinkles of salt, but I was able to endure those. However, the fact that I couldn’t heal it or cover it up is what baffled me. The questions still...
I saw this in my drafts and I just thought I would post it. I don’t really know when I wrote this, but here it is, people! I hope it gives you delight (if you get this reference, hi bespren).
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barunix · 6 years ago
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The pen can not write what you cannot think
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barunix · 6 years ago
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Why do you want to venture somewhere else?
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barunix · 6 years ago
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I never thought you still had your grips on me
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barunix · 6 years ago
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When you peer into the inner workings of a person, only then can you fathom the beauty and tragedy of being human
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barunix · 6 years ago
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Nostalgia
When I look at my old pictures, I feel a sense of nostalgia, sadness, happiness, and fear, all blissfully and uncomfortably stirring in a pit found in my stomach. I see a clear moment in the past, encapsulated in vivid ink, stained on crisp white paper. A passing moment that I barely remember, only a fuzz of wisps that scarcely seem familiar, comfortably feel so like home. What I see and what I feel within are in incongruence; despite the black abyss in my memory, there’s still that sense of the past that tugs me towards it. The longing feeling of simply wanting to go back to times sweeter.
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barunix · 6 years ago
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I live in a place where thoughts and reality are intertwined
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barunix · 6 years ago
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Naked
by: the one who dons pain
Eyes,
Lips,
And hearts,
All shut.
Shut to the voices,
Who Pry,
Love,
But bicker.
In the absence of sound,
More voices ring within,
Voices from the others,
From the other-self.
They torture and tear,
Force until you can’t bear,
Until you submit,
Submit to freedom.
The freedom they promise promises promises,
Of peace,
Sanity,
And a promise of insanity.
It frees you from the others,
With hawking eyes,
It frees you from the others,
With gaping mouths.
It frees you from everything,
Everything you feared,
But it doesn’t free you,
From the fear itself.
The ever-consuming fear,
Stirring from within,
In tandem with the voices,
The puppeteers.
So, letters were chosen,
Faces morphed,
Bodies taken,
And spirits stolen.
But the spirit is strong,
And whites arise,
Crooked but white,
Teary but white,
Ever hoping to drown in white.
Side-note: You can tell me your own interpretations if you like, I’d appreciate them. :-)
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barunix · 7 years ago
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Harry Potter and Introduction to Basic Calculus
Seems very exciting...
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Harry Potter and the Secret History
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barunix · 7 years ago
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As the sun sets and ribbons of colors fill the sky, I take one more breath of life. I say farewell to another day and await for the rays of that same sun, symbolizing a new day, to guide me as to where I should and always wanted to be.
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