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Arii 3d
Sometimes it feels like
I haven’t done anything right
That’s enough to care about
And somehow
That’s worse than
Doing everything wrong,
At least then,
it’s noticeable
Enough
To care about
And deep down I know it well
I shouldn’t fall back
into bad,
Bad habits
But I can never help it
And
It doesn’t matter anymore
which way I go
Downstream or uphill
I’ll follow life’s flow
And if I don’t end up
where I yearn to be
It doesn’t matter
‘Cause it wasn’t up to me
Arii 6d
It’s usually said
That your fingers go numb first.
That the cold gets to your hands even through layers upon layers of thick cloth that are meant to protect it.
That you can’t tightly grab onto a lifeline when you freeze to death,
Unlike how you would in any other near-death scenario.

Next is your toes,
Your feet follow your hands, losing the feeling in them.
It’s funny, in the way that one of the first things you learn in life is to crawl and walk,
And when you’re on your knees in front of death, you lose the ability to do so.

The next to go is your ears,
They go numb too, making the world sound muffled like it’s underwater.
No hearing people screaming your name as you succumb to the cold,
Only silence in the path to the end.

Your nose goes next,
Feeling like it’s turned to ice or stone,
Smells become distantly unknown,
Only a little into freezing over.

Next are your cheeks—the rest of your face.
Red from the chill as they would in the heat
Except the cold is much more merciful in killing off your nerves before it does you.
It’s a plausible question,
Whether it hurts to smile more because your face throbs or because you’re drowning in your demise.

And then goes your chin.
It’s hard to communicate when you’re dying,
Less so to call for help,
And more so to say goodbye to everything you know.
It’s going to happen eventually,
And when it happens, you can’t guarantee you’ll be able to say goodbye,
Or even want to in the first place.
another random write from yesterday
  Jun 9 Arii
Jia En
Because too many of my pieces
Start like this, looking for
A reason for me to finally stop
Asking why. "Because I might..."
Because I might just begin
To disintegrate upon contact
With water— I haven't swam
In years
In fear
That the paint'll wash off.
"Because who am I..." I'll
Never know for sure who I
Am without anyone by
My side to exist for.
Is there more
Point to trying? And perhaps
That's the one question I have
No "thus" to because there
Simply isn't a point to back up
Anymore.
because i dont really know anymore, i guess
Arii Jun 9
I don’t want to die,
I want to cease to exist.
To never have been born
And never have lived
For my soul and body to disappear
For any memory of me to be gone
To dissolve into nothingness and
Never have been anything at all
Random write at 10pm I forgot what day
  Jun 9 Arii
Jia En
Sometimes it's hard to
Come to terms with the person you've
Become— pencil untouched for
Weeks, your
Favourite song is one you don't
Know the name of after you hit
Shuffle on a random playlist
And still you're too tired to find its
Name. Even the AI
You talk to's left you behind
In the dust; more artistic than
You ever were. The heat's left
You unable to rhyme.
Slowly it starts to sink in—
Like debris in dish soap—
Maybe you're no longer an artist
And just one of those Etsy
Sentence-writers that sell
Two seconds' work for more
Than a Mixue dessert.
You wish for ice cream,
Though you yourself start
To melt under the sun.
I guess it takes one to know one.
deepseek, my ***** buddy
Arii Jun 3
If I’m here long enough and didn’t stray too far away,
Would you maybe,
Somehow,
Possibly
Want to stay?

It’s taken many hours and is taking many days,
So,
could you be the one to
end my wait?

Oh, if I were to be quiet and I were to be devout,
Would it be too much to ask for you to
linger around?

I’m sorry if I’m too much and
I’m sorry if I’m not enough
But would it be to much to ask for you
To be around?
Arii Jun 1
If I was a bird my wings would be clipped by a kid running around with scissors because its parents didn’t really care or shot by a man with a gun because the government doesn’t mind.

If I was a shark I would eat a meal that contained plastic scraps because proper trash disposal wasn’t a thing or get caught in a net and have my fins cut off to be sold on a market full of people who would eat anything they could get their hands on just so they rest of me could be thrown back into the water to rot and waste away.

If I was the sun I would have to exist knowing that people scream at me to burn hotter and brighter or dimmer and colder every second, minute and hour because of the extreme climate they gathered on their own planet.

If I was an angel my halo would be ripped off my head and thrown away like trash or I’d be on earth like every cliché romance plot ever and get shot and dissected by “scientists” who claim to mean good and crave to do bad because there is a reason happy endings only exist in fictional stories.

If I was human I’d be nothing short of disappointed.

Then again we are never good at being anything more than hypocritical.
I wrote this at 9pm on a random day idk what it means atp but take it
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