misadventures-of-my-mind

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

this shit hits hard when you use lucid dream method 💔

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

Total Lunar Eclipse, Blood Worm Moon © astronycc

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

analogies that help me through tough times

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1. imagine you’re watching a tv channel, that channel represents the reality you’re experiencing right now. there are other channels, other programs existing at the same time, you’re just tuned in a specific program, that doesn’t mean the rest don’t exist. you shift by grabbing the remote and changing the frequency, changing the channel to the one you’d prefer.

2. when you’re at a restaurant and you place an order, you know your food is coming, whether its taking 10 or 20 minutes, it doesn’t matter, you know its coming. in the meantime, you might enjoy the company you’re with, and even if you’re having a miserable time, you still know that your food is coming regardless.

3. whenever you think of unwanted thoughts, think of them as someone trying to fight you and you not engaging, you don’t react because you’re obviously not going to fight that person. or you can think of placing those thoughts on a cloud, observing it, and letting it go

4. watching a movie you already know the end to, you’re only playing out the rest of the movie

5. someone owing you money. you know you’re going to get the money back, you just can’t spend it yet. in the meantime, you’re thinking of ways you will spend it when you get your hands on them

6. placing an online order and knowing that it will get to you in however many days

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[misadventures-of-my-mind]

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

shifting because nothing is enough i want everything

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

adrift on a sea of self-inflicted delays.

you are in your boat. not a grand ship, not some shining schooner with crisp sails and a well-fed crew. no, this thing is barely floating. there are patches where there shouldn’t be patches. the wood sighs when you shift your weight. it’s a miracle of engineering only in the sense that it hasn’t killed you yet. you should be grateful. you are not.

you have been on this sea longer than is reasonable, longer than you care to admit. you tell yourself it’s been days. it’s been years. the salt has fused to your skin like it belongs there. the ropes, frayed from overuse, are just as much a part of you as your own hands. every night, you tie the same knots, untying them in the morning like a ritual will save you. the oars complain under your grip. not because they’re weak, but because they have known you too long. they have watched you row in circles and been too polite to mention it.

and still, despite every storm, every feverish, maddening night spent chasing false stars, you remain afloat. you have been lost, yes, but more damning than that: you have been waiting. staring into fog so thick you could convince yourself there was nothing beyond it. you have chased the flicker of phantom lanterns, thinking they would lead you home, only to realise they were reflections of your own hands waving desperately back at you.

and yet.

the lighthouse has always been there.

it was not hidden, not some mythic mirage conjured by the delirium of loneliness. it was standing there the whole time. maybe you didn’t notice it at first. maybe you pretended not to. maybe it was easier to believe the stars were too dim, the compass too wild, the sea too endless, rather than admit you were stalling. easier to paint the ocean as a cruel, unsolvable labyrinth than to accept that all you ever had to do was point the boat forward and move.

but the light has been there. is there. right there.

it carves a path through the mist, unwavering, unbothered by your indecision. it does not call to you. it does not need to. it exists, steady and absolute, rooted in stone against the horizon. the kind of solid you have not felt in yourself for years. maybe ever.

but instead of rowing toward it, you do what you do best: you hesitate. you tell yourself you need to prepare. you cannot ruin this. you’ve been at sea too long to mess up now. you need to be sure. what if the light goes out the moment you reach it? what if it’s not meant for you? what if, and this is the most damning of all, you get there and realise there is nowhere left to go?

so you pause. you smooth out your tattered maps, hands trembling over their creased, useless lines. you tie and untie the same knots. you measure the wind, as if that has ever made a difference to you. you grab a book titled how to navigate the ocean and convince yourself that one more chapter will make all the difference.

but your boat does not move.

what if i’m not ready? what if i need a bigger boat? what if there are rocks beneath the surface? what if this lighthouse is not meant for me?

you glance back at the expanse of sea behind you, the one that almost drowned you a thousand times. the one you hated, resented, wept over, and swore you’d escape. and suddenly, it does not seem so bad. at least there, you did not have to try. at least there, you could tell yourself the lighthouse was too far away.

and so you stall. you complicate. you convince yourself that a straightforward thing must be difficult. that this light, this beacon, this blindingly obvious answer, is a riddle that needs solving rather than simply. a destination.

but the lighthouse does not require this overthinking.

it is not asking for anything from you. it does not need your rituals. it does not care how many times you have failed. it does not care if you are ready. it does not care if you believe in it or not. it is simply there.

and so, after years of second-guessing, after a lifetime of mistaking movement for progress, you finally do the one thing you have not done before.

you let go.

you stop checking the map. you stop looking for signs. you place your hands on the oars, point the boat forward, and row.

and suddenly, the water is calm. the mist parts. the shore gets closer, and closer, and closer, until the lighthouse looms above you, its light not just guiding you, but on you. illuminating you. wrapping around you like the thing you have been waiting for your whole life.

you have made it. not because you prepared. not because you deserved it. but because you stopped making it complicated.

because the lighthouse was never far. you only needed to believe it was yours to reach.

and you did not need the map. or the right words. or the right moment.

you only needed to move.

so stop hesitating.

the light is shining. the shore is waiting.

go.

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

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Foda pensar que 12 anos depois eu ainda passo pela mesma coisa kk

Legal é quando você some, e ninguém sente sua falta.

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

Is kinda sad to think that nobody truly cares about me (besides him). A part of this is my fault. I know. I'm the one that put some people away. But i don't think they would truly care about me either. I should have let some people in. I didn't. I couldn't. It's kinda sad to think that I'm not remarkable. I'm nothing... Maybe I just want to be loved and admired like an inspiration. Like when i get obsessed with others. Maybe i just want someone to be obsessed over me. But look at me. I'm nothing.

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

Eu não consigo nem colocar em palavras. Eu só me sinto muito sozinha. De novo. Eu e os Deuses. Algo que não posso nem ver ou ouvir, só sentir. Sozinha. De novo. Se eu não tenho ele, eu não tenho nada. Não tenho sonhos palpáveis, não tenho porque viver, não tenho como viver, não tenho família, não tenho amigos, não tenho nada. É só eu e os Deuses. Então, porque viver? Porque continuar vivendo? Viver por ele? Viver só por ele? É tão errado. Eu tenho vivido só por ele e por um futuro de promessas. Mas qualquer abalo nisso, é como se o meu mundo todo fosse acabar. Porque, literalmente, ele é tudo que eu tenho.

[misadventures-of-my-mind]

[misadventures-of-my-mind]