There’s nothing better than
the feeling when someone
contradicts
what you tell yourself
about yourself
every day;
that you may have been lying
to yourself
all this time.
milena 2h
you believed in me,
said i could do it.
how simple it was;
how easily it left your lips.
those 4 words,
"you can do it,"
are a lie.
i can't do this.
this is actually about a soccer game i was stressing over
milena 2h
they'll look at me like i'm a freak,
if they find out what i've done.
they'll give me no chance to speak.
my friends might as well hand me the gun.

                   my pencil strokes, writing this down;
                   i feel an instant pang of guilt,
                   thinking of the end right now,
                   throwing away everything i built.

                                       i could never do it, i'm not strong.
                                       i want to see more, do more,
                                       but if it makes everyone happier, is it wrong?
                                      
no one would miss me anyway.
written a long time ago
milena 1d
for the first time
i didn't dream
of you
.
continuation of "i woke up"
milena 1d
i woke up
in a flash.

i thought
you were beside me,
but you weren't.
there is a continuation of this titled "for the first time"
Lisa 1d
My father had a buddy when I was little. He didn’t have a lot of friends and we were never invited to people’s birthdays. His name was Sunday and I always thought a man like that should never have a last name so I never asked.

In most of my dreams I am surrounded by people I don’t know anymore. When I wake up I feel awkward for speaking to them in my subconscious. I always remember their birthdays and my gut reaction is to tally a calendar until all the days are scratched in black ink and I can no longer tell what day it is.

Most of the people i don’t speak to anymore never look at me the same way. It never ends in bad terms but somehow it grows to be. When I happen to stumble upon them years down the line they have a look on their face that I always interpreted as “why the fuck did I ever hang out with you?” and most of the time the feelings are mutual. In those rare occurrences when things ended messy my mind immediately thinks of the time that I was 13 and my dad accidentally rented (500) Days of Summer on cable and the beginning just says ‘bitch’ so he turns it off. When I ask why he says that it’s a filthy film and by filthy he means a porno and it made me laugh so much. When he went to work the next day I stayed home and decided to watch it. When it finished it I watched it 3 more times and it became my favorite movie until the next year. All the while thinking I would have probably never seen it any other way. It was all by mistake and that’s how things usually are. Everything is chance. That year I also stopped praying. I think about this moment specifically because I’ve learned the vastness of people’s pettiness and how far some are willing to take their grudges. They’ll take them out to fancy dinners, they’ll soak them in hot water and listen to it on the radio 24/7. All friendships are relative. They’re very well to turn up good as well as they are to turn up sour.

All my birthdays have been spent with only two people all my life. These people change but the number stays the same. This is not a complaint but a relief. A testimony of calmness that I never feel completely in any given time but try.
lmao a fucking porno
if insecurity was a religion people would follow nothing else
if self doubt was a political party people would vote for no one else
if depression was a country people would feel at home nowhere else
this is us by default - we didn't choose this
I don’t know how
I ended up on this planet.
Maybe I crash landed;
It’s possible.
I’ve tried to adapt,
but it ain’t easy,
believe me.
Sometimes I feel human
but like rainbows,
those moments never last.
I still have a lot to learn
and a lot to regret
but overall,
I think I’m doing okay.
Maybe I’m not so alien
after all.
An ocean;
an urge
A waterfall all ready to pour out
But not a single drop trickles down.
It’s all in
drowning
and
swimming;
gasping
and
breathing;
emotional
and
impulsive.
I am crying words,
for there are no tears.
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