sinxerlyri

[sinxerlyri]

Family stays together.

Family never abandons each other.

Family is where your loyalty lies...

But what if it’s family that breaks you?

What if they don’t abandon you,

but slowly poison you;

with chains of expectation,

demands, and unspoken ownership?

What if loyalty isn’t owed to them,

but to yourself...

even if it feels like betrayal?

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

People who tattle know exactly what they're doing,

they know how to paint pictures in someone else's mind

without ever holding the brush.

After all, they were just 'talking'...

the rest was your assumption.

The worst kind of venom wears a friendly face.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

My Banyan Tree Is Gone

I was always told fathers are like banyan trees; I only realised its importance and meaning once the tree above my head was gone.

I wish I had understood you better, Abba. I truly wish I had.

I was young, too young to carry the weight I was given, made responsible for things far beyond my years. I grew to resent the world and those around me. And in that haze, I didn’t see you. I didn’t appreciate you enough while you were here.

Now you are gone, and I have grown. The world feels colder. The burdens heavier. And there is no one left to shield me.

They say grief has a timeline. But it’s been four years, and I still grieve every single day.

I wasn’t as kind or understanding towards you as I should have been. But I want to be better now. I want to be someone Amma can lean on. Even if I no longer have anyone to lean on myself.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

[sinxerlyri]

Overthinkers feel everything twice: once when it happens, and again when they replay it a hundred different ways in their mind. They notice the shifts, the silences, the patterns. They may seem easygoing, but they see more than they let on. So if you're playing games, just know: trust doesn’t break loudly, it just quietly disappears.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

Each day, I feel the life I built slipping further from who I am. Some things, I’ve learned, aren’t worth what they take from you. The unfinished pieces of me always seem to circle back, quiet but persistent. And yet, even as everything trembles beneath me, I hold on. I dream of the life I long for; not the one I’m living. Still, I wonder… will it ever be more than a distant whisper?

[sinxerlyri]

How to dissociate? Just quietly drift into a version of life where everything feels a little lighter and nothing asks too much of you.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

A person's nature rarely changes, no matter how much kindness or patience you show. In the end, they remain who they truly are: time always reveals it. Don’t mistake sweetness for sincerity; sometimes, it’s just a poisonous disguise meant to use you. Remember, a snake may shed its skin and appear different, but it’s still a snake.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

Some people really don’t know where to put their nose or when to keep their feet from stomping all over things they don’t understand. Must be nice, walking through life so confidently clueless: like boundaries are just a suggestion.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

Some people are so independent, they let others do the thinking for them: how empowering. Walking around like they’re in control, blissfully unaware they’re just puppets on invisible strings.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

Have you ever lived an entire lifetime without actually being in it? I have. Not just days passing, but years: full of thoughts, of imagined conversations, regrets, rewinds, and endless what-ifs. I have built entire worlds in my mind, played out countless versions of who I could have been, while barely moving in reality. It’s like existing behind glass; watching life happen, but never really stepping into it. People think I’m quiet, maybe even fine, but they don’t know I have lived a thousand lives in silence, and not one of them was truly mine.

[sinxerlyri]

Have you ever lived a whole life without ever truly living in it?

I have; drifting through days like a whisper,

present in body, absent in spirit.

I breathe, I move, I speak: yet none of it feels mine.

Moments pass through me like shadows through glass.

I think, overthink, feel too much or nothing at all.

A quiet ache in the chest, a weight behind the eyes.

Existing, but not belonging;

a stranger in my own story.

[sinxerlyri]

Strange, isn’t it? How flowers bloom for the dead,

while the living quietly wilt from the love they never get.

[sinxerlyri]

Sometimes, it isn’t about having a crowd of friends: just one person is enough. The right one. The one who brings comfort in chaos, relives childhood with you, and makes even the most non-adult moments feel like home.

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

[sinxerlyri]

"It’s not a dog-eat-dog world; rather, it’s a human-eat-human world—literally and figuratively."

_Raconteur's Muse

[sinxerlyri]

Some realities are ever so consuming that it's hard to escape. It's difficult to die, yet you're drowning in the addiction of 'what ifs' and 'what nots.

_Raconteur's Muse