quietharborsilence

[quietharborsilence]

do I have to be brave for the sake of not being afraid? what good is that?

[quietharborsilence]

REPARENTING YOURSELF IS SO FUCKING HARDDDD ARGHSGVHSJ DJGUIS

[quietharborsilence]

There is a great divide between the person I am in my living room and the person I am in my bedroom

[quietharborsilence]

maternal embrace

sometimes in silence, I wish for a more peaceful quiet; for her to tiptoe into my room, wrap her hands around my throat in her motherly embrace, take the life out of this shell and walk away.

My soul would then leave for a heavenly void, void of violence and pain. My hair will stay embedded in my skull and my skeleton will not tremble in fear.

[quietharborsilence]

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

[quietharborsilence]

My body is fickle. It does things for me that I cannot fathom. 

In the morning when I rise, it refuses to. My legs give out and I’m back in my bed, unconscious for 2 more hours. When I eat, it revolts in nausea; and when I lie down, it refuses to shut down and keeps me up, reeling and toiling away in my head. When I see my mum come into the room, my throat opens up to greet her and a gentle smile gets slashed across my face, betraying me; and when a loved one texts me, my fingers refuse to type back, even if my heart aches to.

Yesterday, when I caught a fleeting glimpse of myself in the mirror, it screeched in horror, as though disgusted by me. Yesterday, when my mother refused to let me fill out an application form for college, my body didn’t revolt, muttered out a meek agreement and carried me back to my room. Locking me away, pushing me towards my imminent death. And when I go to bed tonight, it won’t let me rest.

[quietharborsilence]

When I was in the snow, making angels in white, a gentle voice asked me what I was thinking about- "since I'm outside, I'm thinking about those who aren't....and about when it's time to go back"

[quietharborsilence]

don't worry baby

[quietharborsilence]

My mom is nothing if not a volcanic cesspit of emotions, bumbling and searing, and I am nothing if not a cold, barren wasteland surrounding her, marooned from the outside world, faring.

I don't wish to fare forever

[quietharborsilence]

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

[quietharborsilence]

Last night, I had a nightmare. I was walking towards my friends, sitting under the school playground shade. They were mere smudges of glee. When I reached them, they asked me how I was. The scene ended with us laughing.

I was the same person I was a year ago, putting up a counterfeit face, hating myself for being this way. I wish I had told them about how horribly things have gone wrong ever since he's gone, how much it hurts- about how much I wanted to tear the skin off of my face, set fire to what's left and then run away; about how much I hated myself and this place.

But I couldn't, that was the nightmare.

[quietharborsilence]

life is a journey but you're blind, and so, the ground beneath your feet becomes your entire world. Since none of us has ever been able to take off their blindfolds, it may as well be a treacherous road, and when you come across an obstacle or find yourself in a ditch, your entire world becomes the dust felt by your fingertips or the uneven dirt beneath your soles.

Maybe, if I am lucky, my feet will find their treacherous way to a sinkhole and I'll find myself someplace else, free from circles of insanity and treacherous swamps. And when it shapes itself into all I know, I'll be safe.

[quietharborsilence]

I turned 18 today ₍^. .^₎⟆

listening to 'how can a person know everything at 18, but nothing at 22' while knowing absolutely nothing tonight is ominous.