#ExistentialWriting

[brooding-vamp]

Twistings of Fate

September 13, 2018 

He listens to the echo of my voice, purging, merging his corner into mine. He can hear me. If you were ten years younger, you could be my daddy, and I could linger. Long strides and I fall in my heels. I like twisting my ankles. 

The non-sensual and the pretentious longing in me. I lie to everyone besides the ones who ask. 

The leaves fell today, and the rolling trash cans shattered their deadness. Their chosen form to die in. Nobody talks to me anymore, and I’ve sewn myself new skin. My aunt reads palms, sown myself a new destiny.

The little random things that just happened to melt from my eyes. Don't take me seriously, I’m not disturbed; this week has just left me with the feeling that there is absolutely something wrong with me.

[krjr1]

When Autumn Bloomed Like Spring

The day I met her, the Sakura trees seemed to bloom- though it was the season of falling leaves. I saw life in her eyes, reflecting a spring of eternal joy. But I didn’t approach her. I was helpless, like a mouse before the cheese- unable to resist my inferiority, unable to see beyond what stood above me.

The days passed, and the time of farewell arrived. Yet, all I saw was my own silence. She entered my life like a gentle breeze, and I flowed into hers like a quiet stream- but the words we could have shared vanished, like a drop in the ocean, lost forever in the river of regrets.

Now, as I sit here writing this, all I’m left with are lamentations.

[sufletinversat]

unele intrebari nu cer raspuns, doar un cititor

de ce m-ai nascut de ce ma ignori de ce mi inghiti cuvinte de ce mi sfasai carnea de ce ma sufoc de ce am gandaci sub piele de ce ma ridici apoi ma cobori apoi ma omori de ce am gandaci sub piele? de ce exist exist?

[naomimoorewrites]

A Reprise To The Little Girl Who Got Lost In The Forest

One day, I was walking along a narrow path in the forest. It was dusk. The sun’s rays barely peeked over the tree line. Was it morning? Had I been out all night? Or was it night now? Had I wandered through the whole day?

A growl echoes in the distance, and fear washes over me. The sound was close, but these trees—they’re unfamiliar. These woods, unknown. What kind of beasts might lurk here? My pace quickens, and I dare not look back.

For the longest time, I could only look ahead, walking toward the dimming sky. I think I was uphill. At some point, my steps slowed—or maybe I just grew accustomed to the rhythm. And at this slower pace, I paused. The noise—what was it? A growl? I can’t remember if it was a “rrghf” or a “whusf,” or if it was even there at all.

I could look up, but it was just gray sky. I could look down, but it was only pebbly dirt. The path stretched before me—empty, endless. And then, I did something I hadn’t thought of before—I stopped. When I stopped, I looked back. Why hadn’t I thought to do that before?

Behind me, it was the same. Rocks and dirt. Sky and… not much else. So I sat. And thought. I wonder why I’d never thought about that before, either. Then I realized: I had just begun to think. It’s silly to expect a thought before thinking. But what is a thought, really?

I fell into the hole of my mind, a deep, long moment of spiraling. Then, I rose to my feet. I would keep walking. So far, the path had done me no harm. But after a moment, my feet began to ache. My back hurt. Keeping my body upright felt like a bet against myself. So I paused. I forgot that was something I could do. Maybe I had thought about other things too hard—maybe I’d forgotten.

I paused. Sat again. And thought, just a bit. I would hate to think so much that I forgot to get up again.

But thinking one thought is like thinking a thousand. My thoughts become questions, and my mind answers with more questions. Now, I worry about thinking too much—and questioning too much. And then a thought bursts through the noise.

What if I’m worrying too much, too?

I clutch onto the idea of standing up again. I hold tight to the thought of walking—just a leisurely stroll. Walks in the forest are supposed to clear my mind. I squeeze the thought, refusing to let it go. Thought after thought, question after question, they ring in my mind. Surely, they can’t all be mine.

Some thoughts are shouting now. Fighting. Who is fighting? Enough! I jump to my feet and scream. I’d never thought to speak before. The forest had always been so quiet. So serene. I never dared interrupt its silence. But now, I realize—the scream didn’t come from a thought. It came from all the thoughts. The chattering, the warring. I had to let some of them out.

And for a moment, it works. The buzzing in my head dulls. But an unfortunate side effect: I notice the silence was never in the forest—it was just in me. The buzzing, the hum, it fills my ears again. It won't leave.

I keep walking. Miserable. The thoughts keep buzzing. My feet still hurt, though I hadn’t noticed before. What else have I forgotten while wrapped up in all these little thoughts? I swat at them, frustrated.

An angry thought claws its way through my mind. Where am I walking to? It’s just the beginning. The first of a long stream of furious thoughts. Too angry for my mind. So I let them out, hoping they’ll shrink.

“What the fuck! Where the fuck am I? Is this some sick joke? Huh? How did I get here? How far am I from home? Where could I possibly be walking to for this fucking long?!”

The words rush out in a torrent. And these angry thoughts—they’re different. The ones still buzzing in my head are smaller, quieter. But these—these come from deep inside me. The words are like wind, rushing from my lungs. They lift my arms, then slam them back to my sides. I’m startled. I didn’t think to move my arms.

The wind moves again, lifting my arms, but this time I pull back, protesting. And my foot steps back. I hadn’t thought to do that either. Another step back. Testing. A third step, and then—my angry air trips me! It hits my shins, knocking me to the ground.

I land flat on my face. In hindsight, I should’ve braced myself. The echo of the thought rings in my ears:

You should have…

A roar comes from behind me. I can’t tell if it’s the angry air or the beast from before, but I steady myself and take off down the path. The rocks scrape my feet. The branches lash at me. But I keep running. I run until my lungs burn. I run until I can’t run anymore.

I stop. Standing still, gasping for breath. The buzzing thoughts, the angry air—they’re still there. But the breeze has softened, turned into a cool, soothing wind. I welcome it. I bask in its chill, grateful for the relief from the heat of my fear and exhaustion.

I stand there, motionless, for a long moment. Trying not to think. Instead, I witness. Stillness is practice, I guess. I’m not used to it. I’m still so long that eventually, I sink to the ground and lay down. I hadn’t thought to lay down before.

And as I lie in the path, eyes on the sky, I see the stars.

[musesofexistential-blog]

Figuring this sh*t out.

Setting up this blog for my #TwitterRoleplay account and just as a space to express myself anonymously. So for now bare with me. 

- Em