thecelestiallibrary

[thecelestiallibrary]

covering my ears when I hear you speak outside my window because im afraid you talk badly about me.

afraid of covering my ears because then I cant hear anything happening.

why do you do this?

at home is not at home.

please dad, why do you accept her hating me?

or am i just a failure?

[thecelestiallibrary]

eye-burning lights, scary streams of information, unsafe people.

light-hearted sarcastic jokes feel like threats.

please stop, is all my mind screams, please, you scare me, but I remain silent and laugh with them all. its funny. funny. funny.

its getting too warm, too sticky here in this room and in my body.

fleeing into the bathroom but the lights in there can't be turned off.

mirror me shows three tears leaving my eyes.

can't. can't. yet i leave the bathroom to sit down again, to listen and be good.

stomach twisting and turning because I feel unsafe and terrified.

breathing is flat, thoughts gets dizzy and fragmented.

i feel nauseous, someone touched me, i almost cried.

words are stuck in my throat.

i need a break. i need a break.

sinking to the floor in the bathroom for the 5th time in less than 3 hours.

shaking hands.

tingling hands and feet, don't feel them anymore.

blurry vision, i touch the wall.

walking to my seat again.

haha, i did not understand what was said, but everyone else is laughing. funny. funny. funny.

gasping for air that doesn't seem to come.

oh no.

is this were i pass out?

[thecelestiallibrary]

[thecelestiallibrary]

“It is better to be unhappy and know the worst, than to be happy in a fool’s paradise.”

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Idiot

[thecelestiallibrary]

“It’s amazing how much damage can be done when you have nothing but good intentions.”

— Tom Marin

[thecelestiallibrary]

Sometimes you mix the past with the present and your happiness disappears.

[thecelestiallibrary]

The Forest Within Me

There is a forest within me. Deep, dark, and ancient. The trees grow crooked, their roots clawing out of the ground like broken fingers, and between them, the fog lingers—heavy, like an unspoken truth.

I have tried to walk through it. Over and over again. But the paths shift as if mocking me. Sometimes they lead me in circles, sometimes straight into the thorns. My footsteps echo between the trunks, but no one ever answers.

They say healing is a journey. But how do you follow a path that keeps breaking apart? How do you mend wounds that tear themselves open again and again?

I have carved marks into the trees, trying not to get lost. But the forest swallows my signs, as if I never existed at all.

Sometimes I think I am part of it—just another root too tangled to break free. A shadow between the trees. An echo without an origin.

And yet… sometimes, when the wind moves through the branches, I hear something other than my own heartbeat. A whisper, reminding me that even the oldest forests eventually let light break through their canopy.

Maybe healing is not a journey but a waiting. A lingering. Until, one day, the first ray of sunlight cuts through the fog.

[thecelestiallibrary]

I never wanted to be right. I just wanted to be understood in my point of view.

[thecelestiallibrary]

“Love is not an emotion. It is your very existence.

Love is not about posssession, Love is about appreciation.”

[thecelestiallibrary]

"In this moment, she is holding to the sound of her name, her real name, on someone else's tongue, and it is enough, it is enough, it is enough."

- V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

[thecelestiallibrary]

– Jamie Oliveira | from "Erosion"

[thecelestiallibrary]

Dorianne Laux, from a poem featured in Only As The Day is Long: New and Selected Poems

[thecelestiallibrary]

“I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation for the little things, my vivid inner life, my deep awareness of others’ pain, and my passion for it all.”

— Unknown

[thecelestiallibrary]

[thecelestiallibrary]

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Milena Jesenka featured in "Letters to Milena,"

[thecelestiallibrary]

V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

[thecelestiallibrary]

In control

The only thing I can control is my reaction A mantra I repeat again and again

When my flatmate has left food in the sink again When a kid takes his frustration out on you When this stamping round the house reminds you to make yourself small

The only thing I can control is my reaction True, but I am tired of always being the one in control