essentiallyanecdoche

[essentiallyanecdoche]

I just want to squeeze the moment for every atom it’s worth but we never will.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

Upon this realization in the moment, a sadness sweeps over me like a celestial blanket putting out the night stars in one gradual yet resolute manner.

A moment teeters between real and memory, between here and not here or once here then not here, transcending these invisible boundaries without mercy.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

My mind cannot fully grasp the bitter truth of how a moment’s delicate nature lends itself to such vulnerability, that this moment will never be again which makes it hurts so much more.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

the process of rediscovering the simple little things that make life cozy- eating in front of a sunlit window, reading a book in bed, slicing fruit, putting on your favorite socks.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

Not me overcompensating for the fact that I have executive dysfunction by overworking because it takes me longer than most people to get things and still falling short

[essentiallyanecdoche]

“How can my very own heart, true and ready, be so unaware of the dangers of my ruthlessly devious brain?” She cried. “When will my heart ever learn?”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

They should invent a word for when you’re feeling alright, even lovely on a surface level but all that is underneath is lost. A feeling to describe the utter collapse of an inside knitted together by paper thin sureness. A feeling that you can’t scrape away because all it does is scrape away at you.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

love is not a complicated thing. what you want is not a complicated thing. your heart is not a complicated thing. circumstances are complicated

[essentiallyanecdoche]

When I told them I was broken, they didn’t believe me.

Now with my brokenness spilling right out of me down to the feet, they have no choice but to believe me when I say, “I’m broken.”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

“Can’t you see? That everything I do is a cry for help?”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

“I’ve forgiven myself 90% for my wrongdoings. What about the other 10%? Well it’s at the mercy of the shame—it does not belong to me. The shame is its own entity, and it has every right to bury me inside its walls. I’ll never get that 10% of me back.”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

when Carol Rifka Brunt said “maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have; maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

I’m surviving solely off of coffee, a reading obsession, dopamine hits, and romanticizing a tragic existence

[essentiallyanecdoche]

I’m doing this for me, not for you. For I am most content in my own world, and I only have to prove it to myself. My primary goal is to at the bare minimum accept myself without stipulations, and I fail trying every day.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

“It’s gotten worse, I believe. The isolation. Or maybe since I’ve tried to force myself into spaces where I don’t belong for so long and now I’m not, perhaps it just feels worse than what it is. The bare, toneless walls close in on me, disillusioning me to nothing but embers. I’ve always been my own prisoner, but now I’ve swallowed the keys.”

[essentiallyanecdoche]

Rarely do I make things better when I’m just the accessory. When others are the requisite, that leaves me only to be the elective.

[essentiallyanecdoche]

sleep in and rest those brain cells, take a shower, prepare a healthy breakfast, make iced coffee, work on your passion project, wash your sheets, workout, get sushi, cozy up with a good book. voila problems solved