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Thoughts VII

Last week, one of my favorite authors passed away. Sir Terry Pratchett taught me so much about creative thought and it’s ability to illuminate the truths we hold dear as well as to enrich the basic experience of life. So in his honor, I (once again) will attempt to write more. In the spirit of goal setting, I’m aiming for 7 posts over 7 days. It’s really not much, in fact, it’s far less than anyone else on Tumblr. But this is for me and Sir Pratchett.

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She waits for the fog to arrive. A bright red that violently clashes with the calm green of the forest. Soon all will be simple grey, a repainted canvas. From there she can start again, with broad strokes and adventurous colors, leaving the known for the unsure. The corners of her eyes pull as a hesitant smile sketches itself on her face. While worry holds her shoulders on short marionette strings, wings beat inside her, excitement unborn. No longer able to linger on the border of old and new, she steps once, twice. Three times, and she's gone, enveloped by the blank cover. The missing red seems to have made the green more quiet, but in the distance a wolf howls. 

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It's kind of scary to know that what our generation considers messing around was the actual history of our society.

And all of this was created in about a week. 

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I've never dealt with addiction directly, but I've seen what it can do to people and their loved ones. I feel like if I had, this would be a potential trigger for me, it's that evocative.

Anxiety, depression, and the fear of addiction to pills.

The cure is also the curse. 

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Thoughts VI

(It's been too long since I've written. This randomly came to me, and I just wanted to put it out there to get back into this.)

The best lie that we can tell ourselves lies in how we say what we are feeling. "I am sad, I am angry, I am happy" Maybe it's not so much a lie in that moment, but as the moment passes by and the mood pulls away from our stationary minds, that emotion becomes a lie.

We are human soup, made of many fluid feelings that fill our bowl-ish bodies. You cannot distill exactly what I am because my soul is in turmoil, not that I am suffering but because I am living. And living means change, change so constant you almost couldn't call it change because it's normal to not be the same between each moment. 

These lies are not meant to hurt anyone, but it's understanding that people feel more than one emotion at a time which will give you real empathy. I've known that for a long time, but practicing that it so much harder, especially when I'm telling the lies.

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Supported

This is hopebird.

Hopebird is a little project idea of mine. He’s transparent, and I’m giving permission to use this as you want as long as you don’t profit from it. 

I want you to put hopebird on your blog (either reblog this or take the image and put it on your blog) if you are a SAFE ZONE. That means anyone who has this logo on their blog will not judge you based on your race, age, religion, sexuality, ability, gender, appearance, or anything. If you see hopebird, it means that this person is open to talk to and offer you support if you need it. 

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It's so distant, far away from what you've expected. 

Perhaps it changed your course long ago, and, like a lost vagrant,

you wandered unknowingly down the path unthought of,

one with curling vines and fewer signs than anyone in their right mind would make.

But that is all the better.

Because only by tripping on that small pebble,

by following that river instead of that road,

and by not blanching in fear

and marching forward,

onwards,

did you find that view that would change you forever.

All because of something small,

something you might have missed,

if you hadn't noticed it before.

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Thoughts V

I really want to write, desperately so, but I feel incredibly drained from real life, so I'm just going lazy for a bit. Gods forgive me, but I'm realizing creativity comes in waves not only on a daily basis, but in life as well. Hope it comes back soon though; I miss writing.

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An incredibly moving poem about a man's love and his OCD. Seriously tears, though I'm at work, so it was all internal.

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So anxious O.o

Want a pokemon egg?

OKAY LET’S DO THIS

Every person who regblog this  will have a pokemon egg on their submissions and a few days later a pokemon will hatch from the egg.

 The pokemon will be submitted based on their blog, it may be shiny or even a legendary

(Have your submissions open and only reblog, likes does not count)

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False

sometimes I forget that boys don’t have hearts or feelings 

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So good

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Men Throwing Rocks With Their "Other Hand"

I don't know why this makes me laugh so hard, but it does :)

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Thoughts IV

Post a walk of silence, I'm thinking about all the things that could have gone wrong in my life. How many people I could have lost, what could have happened to them, what could have happened to me.

While I remain unsure if much would change in terms of the world, I know for certain that I would not be the same. My inner character is one built off hope and a belief in the good that naturally exists within people and the world in general. How mean would I be if fate took a parent, a sibling, friend, relative, acquaintance, future person to influence me?

I am thankful beyond words that I have these people, but this is a start.

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Reaching

Approaching, she is back lit by the sun,

I cannot tell what blinds me.

She gazes forward, blinks and sees

my sideways stare.

Eyes meet, lips twitch into smiles, hands gesture hello.

I gasp "hey",

and she replies, "hey".

I turn to say more, searching for the right words.

She doesn't look back, and keeps walking.

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honestly, I'm never a fan that much eye makeup. however, I can appreciate how it can be used to make the human body art.

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I miss you.

everyone, at least once