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1.7k · Jun 2017
TS Jun 2017
He asks me,

"What do you hate about yourself?"

Suddenly, I am silent.

What do I hate?

What don't I hate?

- t.s.
766 · Jan 2018
The Color of You
TS Jan 2018
You are the color of a kiss,
passionate and complex;
A cold, tall glass of water
just after you've had ***

You are the color of a road trip,
with windows down and sunnies on.
The color of a love ballad,
or a fulfilling and perfect yawn

You are the color of a silk petal,
floating to the Earth,
A limited edition coin
and all that it is worth.

You are the color of adventure,
and freshly baked apple pie;
The color of snowfall on your face,
drifting down from the night sky

You are the color of paints
that stores just do not sell;
A sit-in or a marching protest,
fervent and raising hell.

You are the color of the strength
that arises with the dawn;
And when a king is overtaken
by a simple little pawn.

You are the colors found in everything:
extraordinary, nonetheless,
But more than all of that combined,
a fact I must confess;
You are the color of love and life,
with all that magic you possess.

- t.s.
697 · Jun 2019
You Don't Know What's Best
TS Jun 2019
No one will truly listen... Everything I want to say or feel out loud will get me locked up in an institution. It's unfair. I can't speak without fear of someone deciding for me that I should be locked up. Don't tell me you know better than me and don't ******* tell me that you know what's best for me. You aren't in charge, you don't get to decide. If that means I have to be suicidal in secret then so ******* be it.

TS Sep 2018
Sometimes I look back on this life I lived. And it fills me with tears. Nostalgia is a tricky little minx. Sneaks up when you are least expecting it. Filling you with fondness that quickly turns to pain.

I'm longing for the nights we stayed up late like kids in pillow forts. The days we danced in the sun on the street. The moments we wished to last forever.

They didn't.

We didn't.

Suddenly I feel heavy and empty at the same time. Like something inside me is missing and it's absence is a weight on my chest. I dare not say I miss you or miss us or miss the memories because that's the whole key of missing something. You can't miss something that isn't gone. And to be honest, all we had left was to leave each other. That is the reason a part of you will still live on in my soul and I yours. A part of you and me that no longer exists. A part we burried long ago. And that's for the best. It was over. We had outgrown the world that we had created. We became too headstrong, too brave, too focused to live on in each other's lives.

Two hurricanes cannot rage beside each other without merging together as one. Our hurricane lives, independent and stubborn, battled too close to that edge and that is our greatest downfall.

So, storm on, you hurricane of a girl. May your path bring both beauty and destruction all in one. May your bravery startle even yourself. May you power grow and your soul deepen. And may your eyes open each day to see how incredibly and how magnificently you live this life.

618 · Jul 2017
Crazy Pants
TS Jul 2017
Shoved in a plastic grocery bag under the boxes of Christmas decorations is where I found my crazy pants today.

Dusty and discarded, I looked at them. They were softer than I remember.

When I would act irrational or angry or even sleepy, my family gave it the term 'cranky pants' 'angry pants' or ' sleepy pants'. It was a kind way to say, "hey stop acting ridiculous!"

When I was committed to a psychiatric facility, I wasn't allowed to wear the clothes I had on because it posed a threat or hazard to my safety or that of the other patients. They gave you scrubs instead. They were cold and miserable.

One afternoon, I saw one of the other patients wearing sweatpants and I was thrilled to see that was an option. I spent 90% of my time there fighting to get a pair. Finally on day 9, I was gifted a beautiful pair of Heather white sweatpants that had elastic at the bottom and smelled like bleach.

My crazy pants.

I wore them because I was crazy, or so I told myself.

When I was discharged, I got to keep them and would occasionally wear them again but mostly when I felt more bipolar swings happening.

They found their way to a bag in the closet and remained there for months.

Just like my bipolar swings, they hid for a while, stagnant, waiting.

And just like my bipolar swings, they found their way back and now that's all I want to wear. My loony, angry, depressed, crazy pants.

617 · Jan 2018
Don't Make Me Wake Up
TS Jan 2018
The candle wax is dripping on the floor. I'm fast asleep on the hardwood, a towel for a blanket, wandering the stories my mind creates.

It's so much better there, in my dreams, much more comforting and whimsical. I can create my safest place, my very own home.

I can wander all over the world for free, touch the greatest wonders and experience culture like no other. I can learn anything without paying a dime or sitting in a classroom. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin or the cool rain kiss my cheeks as I look to the sky. I can be anything, dare I even say ... happy.

I am trapped in a magical world and I never want to leave.

Please don't make me leave.

I don't want to wake up. I don't want to face the dark and the cold. Because when I wake, those candles will be out and my towel will be just a towel.

Here I am warm, I am free, I am strong. Here I can be anything, do anything, feel anything.

Please don't make me wake up.


- t.s.
606 · Jun 2017
I'm Fine
TS Jun 2017
"You're fine? Are you sure? I know you."

No, I'm not fine.

I'm never sure.

And if you knew me, you'd know that.

606 · Jul 2017
Social Media
TS Jul 2017
'Likes' are not hugs.

Comments are not kisses.

Views are not a hand holding mine.

And yet I crave this attention more than anything. Eyes stretched wide, I live for that next hit, the next 'like'. I lose sleep over how many views I need to keep going. I am a wasteland of media, searching for any signs of life.

I am despirate.

I am addicted.

I am far from social.

580 · May 2019
The Storm : A Masterpiece
TS May 2019
There's an odd sense of peace that lies beneath the surface of a storm, just waiting to be uncovered.

One may be tempted to just look at the chaos and noise and deem it malicious; but if you take a moment to truly uncover it's emotion, the way you look at storms will change forever:

Some may feel high winds, but instead try to feel the rush of energy past your ears, through your hair, and across your skin.

Some may cover from the heavy rain, but instead try running through it, letting it wash over you like cleansing waters.

Some may fear the booming thunder, but instead try to let the vibration course through your veins shaking loose the dust off your passion.

Some may shield their eyes from the blinding lightening, but instead try to trace it's every path across the night sky like a one-of-a-kind, split-second painting that only you have seen.

Some may be working on repairing the aftermath, but instead try to stop and take it all in for a silent moment, as the Earth has just screamed at the top of her lungs and created a masterpiece and you did not hide your face, cover your ears, or shield your head - instead you looked to the sky and breathed it all in; the beauty, the music, the shower of life. You have chosen to see the world as a work of art, even for just a moment - and the Earth smiles because she knows.

TS Aug 2017
Don't you dare leave flowers at my grave.

As a matter of fact, don't even visit.

I don't want to see you weep or talk about how good of a soul I was.

You don't deserve to mourn me because you didn't take the time to know me.

538 · Jul 2017
TS Jul 2017
I want to feel your bones crush in my hands.
I want to feel your skull crunch under my feet.
I want to cause pain.
I want to make chaos.

I am angry.

I want to break, tear, smash, throw, and shred.
I want you to feel just a fraction of this pain.

But that's not just why I'm angry.
I am angry because I am sad when happy things happen.
I am angry because it doesn't change.
I am angry because it won't change.
I am angry because it all changes so quickly.
I am angry because I am angry.

I can't shut it off or shut it out.

I am consumed.

I am angry.

533 · Aug 2017
Deep Blue Beauty
TS Aug 2017
Are you even aware how staggeringly gorgeous you are?

I don't just mean the symmetry of your ****** features or the temperature of your deep blue eyes.

I mean all of you.

How beautiful you are when you run your fingers around the tops of your ears when you are in deep though.

How inspiring your gaze on something that ignites that passion in you.

How stunning the furrow in your brow when someone hurts your loved ones.

How magnificent your voice singing the language of souls.

Even the crinkly skin on your elbows makes me smile because it is you.

Do you know how beautiful you are?

How perfectly unique you are?

The world is a much better place with you in it, gracing us with your infinite radiance.

486 · Aug 2017
Less of a Person
TS Aug 2017
I messed up.

Big time.

I should have never left, I should have fought harder.

Life was simpler with you, easy even.

Sure you were a storm and I was unfortunate enough to be caught in your wake but boy did I ever enjoy the thrill.

I am so much less now. Far less of a person.

I gained weight, I chopped off all my hair, I hate myself and wish it dead, I am speckeled in anxiety written all over my face in the visible blemishes, I am worthless and dull, I am so much less of a person now.

I am sorry for leaving, for wanting better for myself

because even if you destroyed me, at least I served a purpose.

433 · Jun 2017
Is It 10:00 Yet?
TS Jun 2017
9:47 I sit on my couch, staring at my bed.

I'm not supposed to lay down until at least 10 o'clock.

It's supposed to "ward away depressive states" so I don't "stay in bed all day long."

9:52 If I go just a little early, that won't be a big deal, right?

No, I better listen. I better try.

9:55 Only five more minutes.

That's funny. We used to use that to avoid going to bed, now I'm using it to count down until I can.

9:58 Do I have everything I need? The temperature is set so I won't get too hot? I've got my glass of water, my phone charger, my fuzzy socks?

10:00 Sweet relief.

I'll never leave you again.

I promise.  

"Depressive state", my ***.  This is the only place I can be safe. The only place I'm home.

406 · Jul 2017
TS Jul 2017
I can smell the cigarette you put out on my skin.
The sting, it lingers, but I am used to the pain.
I can feel your gaze, not love but lust from sin.
Still I let you touch me, in hopes I feel sane.

Your hands wander and I want to scream.
Tears are running but I am not hurt, just in pain.
You pay no mind and so it seems
This bed will always creak where you have lain.

I am haunted by the ghost of your touch
Who once took my soul from me.
Desecrated place, my eye are lifeless such
Without hope or depth for eyes to see.

I am finished here, it is over.

I no longer belong to me but you have claimed me for your own and left my lifeless body in the wake.
385 · Aug 2017
More to Life than You
TS Aug 2017
Today I realized that there is more to life than you.

You may be the sunrise, but I am the sunset. People sit by windows and in parks and travel the world to watch my show.

You might be the tide but honey, I'm the rain that makes the flowers bloom.

You may be the breeze but darling I'm the stars; infinite, dazzling and the best wish you ever made.

Today I realized there is more to life than you;

there's my life, too.

375 · Aug 2018
Perfect Imperfections
TS Aug 2018
I come home alone yet again.

I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.

That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.

Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.

I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.

But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.

I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.

I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.
375 · Mar 2019
TS Mar 2019
I feel you slipping.

Slipping away.

This wouldn't be news to me - another person who goes. I don't blame you really. I'm sure I'm not the best to live with. Always a wild card of emotion. To be fair, I don't even know most times. I was doing well - I am medicated and things are relatively okay. But this sadness just washed over me like a wave - overwhelmed, drenched, depressed.

It is all senses of frustration rolled into one.

I know it's only a matter of time before you leave completely so why delay the inevitable. Just go. Leave. Don't look back and don't pretend to be sorry. I should be alone and I should go far away. Every city is tainted now - smudged with haunting memories.

I don't belong anywhere, so nowhere is where I'll be.

365 · Jul 2017
Color of Song
TS Jul 2017
Bokeh flares glitter.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Spirals of white.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Dancing yellow light screeches.
Overwhelming prisms flash through.
Angry heated red sets fire.
Meadow green comforts, too.

I close my eyes and I listen.

I see a masterpiece painted behind my eyes, sitting, waiting to be discovered.

Encovered. Enearthed. A firework display of passion errupting in time

One and two and three and four ...

Blood, oceans, dirt, sun

The words bring the passion and the passion brings the show.

The rhythm creates the motion, gives life to the color.


Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Every song has color.
Every song has a display.
All we need to do is close our eyes and wait and

Take the time to listen.

357 · Aug 2017
Song of Moments Past
TS Aug 2017
That violin plays and I am reminded.

I remember those sweet moments with you, we were inseperable.

I feel the warmth in my heart from when we would dance together, from our late night laugh sessions.

I feel the closeness of our hearts that this song brings to me.

We were the best of friends, sisters even.

I close my eyes and this song takes me to a land I've forgotten, a place where nothing mattered but your smile beside mine.

I feel my heart flutter, longing for the past burried so far below now.

A sole tear rolls down my cheek as this song comes to an end

because if I have learned anything in this lifetime it is that even the most beautiful, powerful and unapologetically fierce things come to and end.

353 · Aug 2017
Thinking of You
TS Aug 2017
I thought of you again today while sitting at my desk.

I thought of how you make me feel so serene.

I thought of how if I were to just join you, I would feel at peace, too.

I am overwhelmed by this life and everything it shoves down my throat. I choke by its hand and tears stream down my emotionless face. I am broken.

I thought of you today.

I long to join you in sweet end.

I long to feel nothing again instead of everything all at once.

I thought of you today.

I thought, maybe I will finally decide to give in.

344 · Jul 2017
Instead I Write
TS Jul 2017
I won't eat
I won't sleep
I won't brush my teeth

Instead I write.

I won't cry
I won't laugh
I won't see my friends

Instead I write.

Eating does not fill me. When I try to sleep, I toss and turn. No need to brush my teeth when I won't go outside.

Stories are my nourishment. I drift off to dreamland in prose. My soul is cleansed with antonyms and synonyms, similes and metaphors.

Crying brings no freeing feeling. Laughing holds no joy. Friends will soon just leave me and take with them my heart.

I pour my tears into a song to convey all that I feel. I laugh along with Shakespeare as he inspires every play. All my friends are pencils because they're useful and won't leave. And if one happens to skip away, break or reach an end; aisle 4, below the staplers, I can always buy some more.
328 · Aug 2017
Overwhelming Pain
TS Aug 2017
It travels through my bones, leaving my body weak. It stings my jaw line as my teeth clench. It makes lifeless my shoulders, my arms, my legs.

I am defeated.

The pain is overwhelming.

319 · Jul 2017
My Visions
TS Jul 2017
LSD to hallucinate
Marijuana for stillness
Alcohol to numb the pain

All I wonder is

Who needs drugs when we have music?

314 · Jul 2017
TS Jul 2017
How it hurts to know, to see
that I won't ever have the words flow, like you, through me.

My sentence structure, lacking
thoughts toss upon the sea, the sail we're tacking.

There is no passion to my words,
just novice, vice sent to up to the birds.

My strong desire, though, is meek
to dance with words until my hand grows weak.

Please be patient whilst I learn,
to write, to feel this wistful nocturne.

305 · Jul 2017
Where's My Stop Sign
TS Jul 2017
You promised.

You swore.

You said you would.

We drank a little whiskey and I smiled at your goofy grin. I laughed when you bet me a stop sign that I would get sick on my 21st. Little did you know, I can handle my liquor  magnificently. We put some music on and swung-out to that 40s rhythm.

You promised you loved me.

You swore you would never leave.

You said you would always hold my hand.

I turned 21 last week and I sat in my cold apartment, alone. I did not drink, I did not smile, I did not laugh, I did not dance. Instead tears burned through my cheeks like acid rain. Instead my nose leaked into countless tissues. Instead I ignored my world.

The promises are broken.

Swearing is just curse words, now.

My hand is empty.

I turned 21 last week. I did not get sick. Now, all I can think is

Where the hell is my stop sign?

303 · Jun 2017
Help Me
TS Jun 2017
Help me, I am drowning in my own self hating words.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
Clings around my neck.

Help me, I am losing on this battlefield alone.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
Covers up my screams.

Help me, I am fading into darkened monsters, now.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.

It is time to say goodbye.

TS Dec 2017
**** this.
**** this whole.

I realize that there is more elegance and eloquence to vocabulary but right now the only works that can escape my lips are

**** this.
Oh. And *******, too.

Sitting here sick
Sick and **** tired of this **** that life keeps throwing my way.
And I just deal with it...
Because I 'have to'.


'Have to'

Why the **** do I 'have to' be here? I didn't chose this. I didn't ask to be alive, ask to be conscious. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wake up each day and breathe and live and work and cry and sleep.


I'll keep that one.
Its nice to sleep. There's nothing else to worry about. A sweet serene oasis of mine. A place where I don't answer to the **** of other people.

I give it back. All of it. It doesn't work right. It never did. It never will. People say that I should be happy for the things I have and I say to those people...

**** that.

**** your standards of what I 'should' do or feel or know. **** your opinion on how I treat myself. **** your decision that my life is worth saving because so what. I don't want it. I return it. Take it back and give the whole thing to someone else who wants it.

But make sure you ask them first. Ask them if they want this life. Ask them if they desire to drudge through each day just to make it to the next. Ask them if they want the self-loathing, air of desecration that lingers all around me. Ask them if they'd love to know, everyday, what it feels like to have people NOT choose you over and over and over again. Because I'm sure, if you ask them ...

They'll want to return this life, too.

- t.s.
296 · Jul 2017
Anonymous Internet Asshole
TS Jul 2017
I'll dump this here so your words stop stinging.

This community ***** the venom out with each poisonous thing I post.

"You're a kind-hearted person with good intentions, but you hurt so many people. You say you're their friend, but you've entirely abandoned them, despite the lengths they've gone to to help you or to support you. If you truly care about someone, reach out to them, even just to say hi. Stop hurting the people who care about you the most."

With no love whatsoever, Some ******* on the Internet

292 · Aug 2017
Stressed Out
TS Aug 2017
My brain rattles around and I'm lost on what to say, what to do, where to start. There is a mountain of things on my list of life. I don't want the list, I dont want anything on it, I don't want life.

I just want to run. Run very far away forever and ever until the end.

289 · Jun 2017
TS Jun 2017
Because we're all just a little messed up.

Some of us are a lot of messed up.

We hide and hope people never see it but what can we do?

How do we hide who we are?

And who we are is nothing.

285 · Feb 2018
What I Want
TS Feb 2018
I want to write to inspire you, to show you, to lead you.

I want my words to take you to new continents and sail you across seas.

I want my imagery to paint such a masterpiece, you could reach out and feel the wind.

I want to keep you captivated by these letters in a combination no one has dared to try.

I want my poems, my stories, my thoughts, my dreams to be the ones you copy and paste, the ones you print and hang on your wall; not for fame and money but so that you see it every day and you are reminded that you are alive.

I want to show you how to smile again, how to face each day.

I want these lines to hold on to you, keep your tears from falling or help you let it all out.

I want my sentences to teach you how to love yourself again, how to be brave.

I want you to know, from my words, that there is nothing on this earth, in the entire complex universe, this endless sky of galaxies, that you can't be.

- t.s.
271 · Jul 2017
Danger to Myself
TS Jul 2017
He asks me, "Are you a danger to yourself? Do you feel you will act on these feelings?"

I was born a danger to myself.

These feelings? If I acted on them, I couldn't tell you.

And if I'm successful, it wouldn't matter to you anyway.

268 · Jul 2017
Let Me Out
TS Jul 2017
I need to speak but it weighs so heavy on my mind.

"They don't love you."

"You aren't good enough."

I can't work, I can't sleep, I can't breathe.
This feeling is suffocating me slowly.
Let me out, let me speak, let me be who I am without judgement because I already judge myself enough for the both of us.

265 · Oct 2018
This is for You
TS Oct 2018
It's when tragedy hits that we feel the smallest.

I feel like I can't help, like no matter what I do, I won't make a difference to the cause.

You're resilience and strength has inspired me the years that I have had the pleasure to know you. And now... Now there is this plague that is draining you and I can't change it or help it.

Your family has fought so many battles already. I have never met such a strong bunch. And yet, here they are, having to tackle ALS too.

Such a difficult thing. Something that has no cure or fix or remedy.

That's the funny thing about humans. We don't realize what it's like to not have control until we don't. How incredibly painful it must be to look at your hands, wanting to move them and nothing happens.

I put myself in your place, in your shoes and I am just a rock at the deepest darkest corner of the ocean, covered in algae and sand.

I am motionless.

Much like you will be for the rest of your life, however long we get to have you for.

I am flooded with the emotions and heart break. We have no control. We have no cure. We have no hope.

I want to muster all the hope and prayers I possibly can but I am just struck by the heart ache. I am weighed down by the thought of a world without you. I am scattered and crushed.

This entire time I have been saying nothing but "I" statements and how I feel and how I am. But this isn't about me and how heart broken I am... It's about you

The you who has been a pillar of love and strength to his family

The you who held his wife's hand as she battled cancer

The you who celebrated gleefully the 10 year anniversary of her remission

The you who lost loved ones to other dreadful diseases

The you who donated his time to the arts and the education system

The you who showed people how to think creatively

The you who raised three beautiful children

The you whose daughter is getting married this year

The you who won't be able to walk her down the aisle

The you gave and gave and gave until you actually couldn't walk anymore

This is all about you. The love that is being shown is to you. The tears that are being shed are for you. The hearts that are breaking, break for you. The minds kept up late at night writing frantically to ease the fears are for you. You are the center of this, our one priority.

Please, please let the prayers being poured out for you right now bring healing, bring peace and bring a miracle to you.

Life would not be the same without you and you need to know that.
259 · Mar 2019
TS Mar 2019
Some days I dream of the way my feet would hang off the side of a roof top garden ledge
Crisp air cooling my toes.

Some days I wish I was hanging from a tree
Lifeless, still, and calm.

Some days I wish I was at least just hanging in there,
Instead of feeling empty and numb.

256 · Jul 2017
You Should Be Alone
TS Jul 2017
I hate to see you doing well.
I know its shallow, petty, and sad

but call me all those things
because right now I'd rather you be alone.

You should be alone
after what you did to me.  

How is it that I'm the one fighting demons you created
and you're running with my dream that we created together?

I hate that you're doing well
and I wish that you weren't.

256 · Jun 2017
New Notebooks
TS Jun 2017
I don't like new notebooks.

I mean, I like new, beautiful, clean, pristine notebooks,
but I don't like using them.

I don't want to ruin it.

I open up to the first page and it's so blank, so white, so pure,
there's not an imperfection in sight.

I don't want to use it because I don't want to mess it up. I want it to stay perfect, and beautiful.
I don't want that inevitable ****** drawing or poem to **** it up.
I don't want my uncleanliness, my messiness to spread to something so perfect.

I do end up using it. If I didn't, I'd just have a bunch of empty notebooks lying around which honestly I'd prefer.
But I take forever to do it, to break the seal.

I have to have the perfect thing to ruin perfection because if it's not perfect, it's not worth it to ruin it.

It goes two ways though:

The first entry is perfect, beautiful, inspiring, deep,
and then I never use that book again.
Because now it's perfection is magnified.
I couldn't possibly follow it up with something better or just as good,
and it's quite possible that the more I try to come up with something good to match, the initial piece deteriorates and it becomes disappointing, thus resulting in the notebook not being used.

The second way this goes is the first entry is trash.
It's disgraceful and I want to tear it out
but suddenly the book becomes less daunting, less intimidating because now, it's imperfect.
Every entry to follow doesn't have to live up to some grand standard.
But I'm reminded everytime I use that book that I failed, that I created garbage.
It makes everything that comes after, not as good as what I want to do, it lacks passion.
If I tear out the initial entry, the cycle starts over.

No matter which way you spin it, we just don't get along. I end up with a bunch of half used, disappointing books sitting around haunting me as I walk by.
A notebook is reflective of who you are,
it displays the deepest parts of you.

What if your unhappy with what you see on the page?

What if what you see isn't you?

What if, this blank, empty page of nothingness is better than what you are?

Why would you want to ruin something so pure and perfect with your mess?

Because nothing you ever write, draw, sketch, compose or create on it will ever be as good as it's once held purity.

255 · Jul 2017
TS Jul 2017
I am far more disappointed with my life than you can understand.

My 'friends' are ******.
My job is lifeless.
My soul is black.

I used to think deep and dark is beautiful but now it just feels endless.

247 · Jan 2019
TS Jan 2019
Let's just all stop judging each other okay?

I have a new challenge for you:

to amend your attitude, to not put others down for the things that erupt passion in their hearts.

When did it become the cool thing to look down on others because they show excitement for something?

I was recently thinking about the term 'tourist'. That word used to make me cringe. I hated the idea of being a tourist because I hated the idea of being the outsider, the person who isn't "from around here". In reality, however, we are all tourists. We can't be from everywhere and often times I still consider myself a tourist in my own town. I feel like "being a tourist" has gotten such a bad wrap. Often times the term is synonymous with "annoying" and "main-stream". I've heard people say, "Be a traveler, not a tourist." And I say, aren't they the same thing? Aren't they both people who are passionate about exploring somewhere  new? People spend so much time gawking at the tourists that kiss in front of the Eiffel tower or take photos in front of the Coliseum. How unfair is it for us to judge them for that? They are documenting a memory, their memory. They are fully immersed in the now. They are enjoying every last drop of everywhere they go.

It's disappointing to see so many people look down on others for the way they show their excitement and passion simply because it doesn't look like theirs. Just because you don't show your joy by taking a tour through the Louvre doesn't mean it's wrong. Sure, hidden gems of cities can always be cool and unique but that's not the only way to experience the world. Attractions are popular because they hold a value to so many people - if anything, that just makes it that much more worth it.

I myself, am more along the lines of getting off the beaten path and forging my own - but still floating back to earth a bit to see the views everyone's talking about. I know everyone travels differently and people are interested in other things - that's okay. That's what brings diversity and personality to the world. I'm not saying you need to conform and do what everyone else is doing, I'm just saying - don't judge others for how they choose to spend this life - but also, don't be afraid to spend yours how you want. Don't shy away from visiting Neuschwannstein Castle just because everyone goes there. Who cares how it looks to others? Only you. If we all spent a little less time judging others, maybe that would leave a little more time for enjoying the life we are in. You never know what is going to happen a week from now, a month from now, or years from now - so go do what excites your spirit - no matter how many or how little people do the same thing. Just go, explore the world, and be unapologetically you.
244 · Jun 2017
Other Girls
TS Jun 2017
I am not smart like the other girls.

I am not as pretty,
nor as charming,
or sweet.

I am not like the other girls.

I never will be.

- t.s.
241 · May 2019
They're Just Words
TS May 2019
It's all just words.

I don't really have anything profoundly intricate to say - everything I write is just a stream of consciousness jotted down on a note in my phone that I load to a website anonymously hoping someone, somewhere will see it and feel something.

240 · May 2019
Is it worth it?
TS May 2019
This world is full of people who will hate you, drag you down, and rub dirt in your wounds. There are also many who will show you love and kindness.

I ask you, is it worth it? Is it worth it to go to bed every night hoping you don't wake up in the morning just to have a friend?

Is it worth it to feel the overwhelming urge to jump when you know the bottom is full of sharp rocks just to have a few happy photos?

Is it worth it to loathe your existence so much that you wish you would just stop breathing already just to take in the cool air that escapes from a crashing wave?

Is it worth it?

- t.s.
235 · Jun 2019
Opening Up
TS Jun 2019
I have an intensly difficult time opening up to anyone. I have been burned so many times, yes, but this isn't about that.

It's about the way you will look at me when I tell you how my mood swings from happily eating ice cream for dinner to throwing out all the food in my house because I should stop eating forever.

It's about the things you will say when I tell you I want to drive my car off a bridge the day after we had a grand time at happy hour.

It's about the energy I will feel when I explain why I don't let myself get too happy anymore because I am afraid that will be it for me - the best memory I will ever have.

It's about the people you will call and the places you will put me when I finally say how I feel about my life and my desire for it to end.

It's all about what I know will happen.

This is why I stay quiet and I cry alone in my bed. This is why I put a smile on each day and break down as soon as I step through my front door. This is why I will never tell you how I feel because I know the moment I do, life will never be the same for us again.

In all reality, everything I do is to protect the ones I love. I stay alive because I couldn't bear to put anyone through the hassle of dealing with my dead body. I keep quiet because I can't burden you with my words. I cover it all up, keep it shoved down deep because I will never open up this storm of emotion to a person who lives life in such an unapologetically perfect way.

I am here because of you. I am still breathing because of you. But I am still hoping that one day, unprompted, you give me permission to leave. THAT is when I will breath a sigh of relief.

225 · Jun 2017
TS Jun 2017
There is too much wrong with me, she stuttered.

I am too broken to fix.

218 · Jun 2017
You Again
TS Jun 2017
I swore I'd never write about you again.

You aren't supposed to be worth my time.

But my time is worthless and my hand knows nothing besides you.

214 · Aug 2017
TS Aug 2017
I'm in a thousand ******* pieces and I just stare at the mess, blankly.

I've always hated puzzles, especially when so many pieces are missing.

212 · Jul 2017
TS Jul 2017
I want to be hit by a car.

I want it to run me over twice just to make sure I'm dead.

I want to get in a fight so I come up on the wrong end, dead.

I want to feel a cold knife against the muscles, the bones.

I want to be crushed by a tree or rhinoceros, doesn't matter what.

I want to feel my bones snap and my skin tear.

I want to feel anything.
I want to feel nothing.
I want to be gone.

Don't call the psych ward, I won't go back. I'm not acting on it, just feeling those feels.
208 · Aug 2017
Loosing Friends
TS Aug 2017
I just lost my best friend.

This person, this human, with whom I shared my whole life.

I thought we were inseparable. I thought wrong.

Now you are just a stranger. We pass on the street and you don't even glance in my direction.

I get it. Its all my fault really. I'm so ******* broken that I don't blame you for leaving. I am too much to handle, there will be no return on investment or stock payouts. I will never be anything. You bought high, cut your losses and sold low. It will stay there; the low.

I don't blame you for leaving me. I wish I could leave me, too.

198 · Sep 2019
It Brings Me Back
TS Sep 2019
The light touch of the silk on my breast brings me back to you.

It brings me back to that dance floor with my body pressed up against yours like the cover of a book and it's pages.

It brings me back to your fingertips - a stone skip across my skin.

It brings me back to your hands holding my face and your lips on mine.

It brings me back to that night in the snow where your body was the only source of heat I needed.

You are a chapter that I will never forget - the one that I will reread over and over again until the words come to life off the page.

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