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words might not mean anything in a literal sense, when it comes down to it they’re just mouth noises or scribbles. regardless, I find the millions of ways you can communicate with words beautiful. there’s thousands of different ways to say you’re sad, happy, in love, you don’t even have to just use different words to say it, you can use metaphors and similes to say one thing while meaning another and people will still get it. you can write something ambiguous and people will believe it means whatever helps them feel the most in the moment. you can write songs, poetry and stories that will mean the world to someone for years. words and writing can change someone’s life, I think communication is just so beautiful. you can learn so much from other people and the creative ways they say what they have to say.
| here’s my etsy shop where I sell these tops and others like it! | instagram |
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The first 5 days of Inktober! Hopefully I can stick with it this year!
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Yu Hong (Chinese, b. 1966), Cloud Layer, 2014. Acrylic on canvas, 180 x 200 cm.
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who am I
Who am I who am I who am I I look at the reflection I look at the pictures Who the fuck is that in the spot I was standing in? That’s not me..
That can’t be me...
How can that girl in the picture be me? Why can’t I break out of this cage? My ribs are a cell my soul can’t escape.What have I done? I’m horrid, the girl staring back at me has a smile of sadness and her eyes look empty.Now I’m thinking of you, your eyes.. your stupid little calic and your lashes that look like sunflower petals. That was the last kind thing I told you I think. Who was I then? That wasn’t me either. I feel like I could have been so much better.. I am filled with darkness when I think of every choice I made as an adolescent. I hate every choice I made today. I hate the skin on my fingers and the hair on my head, unbrushed and tangled. A fucking mess. Why can’t I be better? Why do I feel like the dark lord has his fingers in my soul and is pulling me closer,, and closer.... why am I all alone? When will I be brave enough to try again? When will I be OKAY enough to try again? What the fuck. You fucked me up so bad. I fucked you up too , tho.. oops.. I fucking hate my father. He turns his phone off in a couple days and my gma wants me to text him before hand. But I don’t want to. I have a steel sword through my heart every time I think of him. Who am i . & How will I learn to love her?
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