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♡ A Passionate Journal ♡ 〈ɴꜱꜰᴡ - ᴇᴄᴄᴇɴᴛʀɪᴄ〉

Passion

Fueled
Joined
Nov 16, 2018
Location
Fever Dreams
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________________________________________________________

Once your soul catches fire,
you'll never be the same.

________________________________________________________


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As someone who strongly believes in self-expression, a journal comes naturally.
Expect saturation compared to reality; this is the internet.

WMhYaHtEAyRoTuANcDaMnI NfDiSnCdREhAeMr !!e!:

Ramblings
Art - (aesthetic to lewd)
Easter eggs
Inspiration

₵Ⱨ₳ا


WChAaNtY'OsUHtEhAeRMvEi?b!e??

Girly BDSM Delirium Dreamscape Obscurity

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Allowed, if done politely.
All blunt NSFW should have a spoiler tag.
I like the surface of my journal to be tasteful.


X
No spam, long convos, or debates.
You may not agree with me.
This isn't the place for it.


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-----------------------------------------
Color Key
Inspiration - Art (Lewd) - Delirium - Tarot
Rambling - Old Monthly Entries (retired)
-----------------------------------------
 
Last edited:
February Thoughts
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Intense.
How will I burn?


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Bittersweet: how many, including myself, would describe me.

You see, I used to be almost all sweet, but the world has twisted me bitter. I don't mind it to some level, but when it starts to interfere with social interactions, I don't love it, and I know it's a time to stop and reflect. I have seen a lot of this duality at work.

I'm a very compassionate person towards those who work at my office. I go out of my way to try to do things to make them feel appreciated, and many feel comfortable talking to me. Plenty have said many warm words about me for my dedication and care. I'm often praised for how much I carry and support. However, I'm still a boss and at times, things aren't perfect and clashes do happen.

While this is normal for some disagreements to take place, I'm snapping a bit too hard and quickly. Suddenly bitter, my tone goes loud and my tongue sharp. I see myself, almost out of body, losing control, and I can't stop myself. Luckily, It isn't like I'm cursing anyone out, but general anger is strong. Too strong.


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Keep control.

I knew something wasn't right the other day. I had a worker do something I bluntly told them not to do. Irritated, I approached them and questioned them on the action. They defended their action by blaming me. Without going into the details, trust me when I say this was not my fault; it was poor projection. For me to get blamed for their bad action, my anger spiked. I did not yell, but I found myself unable to breathe. I was winded, half my statements became whispers. My body was trembling, and I caught my blunt physical reactions during what was turning into a bickering match. I didn't have the impulse to swear or attack, but it was like I was so enraged I almost fainted. I just so badly wanted them to see my side and apologize. I hate when I don't feel heard.

It happened again to some degree. There is a very important task that needed to be done, and I had someone doing everything they could to avoid it, willing to take a "miss". I was upset by the willingness to disregard the task, so I approached to reinstate the importance. I got a few statements about how the task was "stupid" and so it wouldn't be done. I was going to make sure it was done, and when I snapped back, my voice was much louder than I planned. Once again, I saw myself out of body yelling. This time, I wasn't breathless. I sounded like a bitch even though I was in the right of seeing that the task was done and to not allow such disregard. I still shouldn't be raising my voice, but I was so pissed!

I believe I could manage this anger better. People see me as sweet, but if you cross me, I snap, and I'm a bitter fire. I'm trying to figure out how to not let things get under my skin so much or/and to stop myself once I cross a line, but that is easier said than done. It is like I don't see the edge, and I'm suddenly falling and can't stop. I also hate the idea of self-suppression as well. I can't keep going 0 to 100.

Other than being an emotionally driven woman, I'm sure it is just the stress. I also am probably taking things a bit too personally, but I can't help but feel disrespected. They are kind and respectful most of the time, and I think that is part of the reason why I'm extra bitter when they disappoint me.

I usually keep myself under pretty strict control, so it is kinda scary seeing myself slip, but I'm only human, aren't I?

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Where are you?

This should be the least of my worries; it always gets me in trouble, yet I found myself craving a fixation again.
I feel like something is missing without it.

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Not only that, but what comfort it brings me to get lost in it all.
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Oh, where has my desire gone?

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Where is that surrealism and
endless passion that I know?

Where are those pleasant thoughts I fall asleep to?

Where is the center of my warped world?


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March Thoughts
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I'll keep pushing on.

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"Don't always give them your 100%,
or they will expect it all the time or
they want even more from you."


I wouldn't recommend this piece of advice to everyone and for every job,
but as an overly passionate woman,
I can't help but to give everything I care about my 100%.
While this makes me great at my job,
now everyone expects me to keep running at this pace, and then some.

When I was sick, I still worked.
(And I'm sick again. Cri)
When I had a death in my family, I only took a day off.
When I was forced to teach and train myself, I learned and grew.
When I was told to fight, I fought.
When others opposed me, I stood my ground.
When shit hit the fan, I came running.
When I helped beyond my boundaries, I did so with a smile.

They now are asking for favors beyond my pay grade.
Why?
They know I can do it,
and I'll do it well.

Now, I feel taken advantage of.
Their compliments fall flat, and I'm spread thin,
turning bitter once more.

I stood up against them,
refusing to do what was asked,
but now I'm at a standstill.
They are waiting to see if I bend.
I will not.


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As someone who hates winter almost more than anything, feeling the change in seasons in adding a lost light back to life.
I
hate the cold, the snow, the lack of color of winter, but with spring nearing,
I
feel my heart warming with the changing temperatures.
My soul sighed in relief to know the bitterness of winter is finally taking its last breaths.
A
nother winter come and gone,
and I'll use ignorance against winter's eventual return to instead...
bas
k in the rays of sun,
savor the tender kisses of a fresh breeze,
a
nd to take in the sight of natures revival.


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Oh, how I hate it so.
So cold and empty...
It stands for the opposite of everything I am.
Despite my ill feelings,
it does serve me a purpose.
It comes with its risks to rely on it,
but to release to it,
is
freedom.

Take it all.
I'll peel myself layer by layer
to make my way down to the very core.
Consume, destroy, and erase it all.

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With more space,
the more room to create.



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[This has been one of my favorite songs for a long time now.
I've always loved the twisted and abstract lyrics.
Also, it is all in English, despite the title.]




Baby, I'm sick inside.
I'm definitely out of my mind.
I know there's something not quite right.

> Disconnect, system override

You're so brave from your side of the glass,
And you, you can't compute, you can't do the math
And you're playing GOD with your remote control,
But I already know that there's a flaw in my code.
and the the truth is you silently study me.
And there are consequences that you cannot see
And you ask yourself,


how did I unplug?

But the simple truth is
that I just don't give a fuck,
I don't care
I don't care
I don't care
Baby, I don't care
Baby, I don't care
Oh, I don't care
No, I don't

You say you're the cure,
But I smell your disease.
I've figured you out
Like a rat in a cage.

So come in tie me down try and reprogram me.
Please run your tests.
tell me how I am malfunctioning.
You cut me up sew me back together one more time.


I'm not in sync, data breach can't bring me back online.

You start to panic when you realize,
you try to shut me down when you look in my eyes.
no matter how you try and rewire me,
Or psychoanalyze my psychology.

I don't care
I don't care
I don't care
Baby, I don't care
Baby, I don't care
Oh, I don't care

You put away all your needles and knives.
Tell me, do you feel satisfied?
Did you get what you came here for?
I can tell you still want more.
Did you get everything you need?
Are you finished watching me bleed?
Did you think you could just walk away?
Did you think I'd just let you leave?
Maybe you didn't think I would know?
Maybe you didn't think I would see?
Cause I'll never give what you want.
I learned the truth a long time ago
I would die before I...

Baby, I don't care.
 
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April Thoughts
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> U n f o u n d
I am R̶E̶A̶L̶I̶T̶Y̶; I am 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶.

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"I'm in a brand new reality.
Got a new set of eyes,
but I'm losing my gravity.


Breaking my back,
Trying to be what I'm not
But I'm already two
faces in."


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> SYSTEM ERROR
> SYSTEM CORRUPTED

> RUN BACKUP.EXE
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The smoke and flames found me again.
It rolled towards me like a roaring wave.
The alarms sounded, and I held my ground,
but I was swept away,
I'm left lost in the gray.
It is so hard to breathe here.
I can hardly find my footing.
Tripping on debris, lost direction,
and the smoke is so thick,
I can't even see myself.
There isn't another soul here.
There is
nothing here.
I trapped to wander this desolate city.
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Battered, broken, & lost.
A survivor fighting an endless battle.
Strong, enduring, & determined.
A soul and mind that refuses to fade.
As long as I have
𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑,
I'll keep reviving.







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Doors started to open,
even before I started to seek.
A new adventure awaits.
What rewards or terrors it will bring are

unknown.

I'm anxious.
One moment confident,
the next, I'm hopeless.

In the end,
it doesn't really matter how I feel.
I'm going to keep walking forward.

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After all,
I have little to lose.

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There stress has been too much,
and I find myself lost in fantasy.
The more intense the thought,
the more I feel, and
the more I can escape.


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Drowning in sinful thoughts.
 
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May Thoughts
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Trying to bloom with spring.

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I'm both here and not here. I'm somewhere in the shadows.

I had some things come up, and I feel like I won't find the writing that I'm currently looking for.

I'll be back.
I always come back.


I'm still a message away if anyone needs to reach me.​
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Silence isn't empty.

Like a broken dam,
my words kept flowing.

My mind and soul are deafening.
They echo so viciously,
I can feel it reverberating throughout my existence.

It doesn't matter how loud it is.
It doesn't matter how much it hurts.
It doesn't matter how baffling it is.

I should know better...

This is my holy war.
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I have something special to offer,
but where does it belong?

As usual, I'm feeling lost, but a bit more than usual with certain aspects of my life. Some of my professional plans have fallen through, my home life is testing the strength of my masks, desires as well as fear are tugging me every which way, and I'm not sure where to dedicate my creativity.

Every shot I take feels so aimless as I try to find my place once again in this hectic world.​

Every time I get my feet on the ground, something is just waiting to push me over. I always get back up, but I'm starting to lose sight of why I am fighting this hard other than for survival. That is critical, but I want more than just proving endurance for hardship and spouts of bad luck.

I want success, happiness, peace, love, wisdom, clarity, passion, and fulfillment.
I want a sound path.
But, don't we all...?

As the days bleed together, I can't help but wonder what my future holds. We never know, but a lot of times we can see within that darkness a general idea. I used to have them, but I can't even tell you what a month from now will look like. Maybe that should be exciting, but I am filled with dread. I'm becoming too old for this uncertainty. At this point, it is pretty embarrassing. At least I can say with confidence, it isn't from a lack of effort or care. Sure, I could have done some things differently, but I never strayed away from trying my best.

We all are at the universe's mercy. We never know if suddenly a meteor will crash into the planet, we don't know if a forest fire will start, we don't know if one day our jobs will be gone, we just don't know. We are all blind, but some can see more clearly than others. Some have a bit more awareness, power, and/or control to handle some of the universe's games. To have a soft place to land... I keep landing in desolate lands with very few resources. I'll keep making do with what I have, but I am so tired. I'm not sure what direction I should be walking anymore. At least I have a bit of guidance in the sense of where not to walk, but I'm still wandering with no destination in sight.

Compliments; I get plenty, then why can't I succeed?
Why is my best still not enough to break through to the other side?
Why must I keep stumbling?​

I'll keep looking for my place, as a professional, a creative, and a woman. I've gone through far too much to give up.
 
[Delirium]
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It quickly turned into a battle of
mind, heart, & soul.


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It reminds of a piece of cake that you have been dying to sink your teeth into.
It looks nothing short of heavenly to indulge in,
but once you have one bite, you realize it is far too rich.
That one bite was tasty, but utterly overwhelming,
and you are sure if you finish the whole piece,
you'll be devastatingly
sick.
but... You still impulsively and foolishly want to consume.

I stopped myself from eating too much cake that was served to me on a golden platter.
It was nearly impossible to resist, but I did, yet the craving for it is still there.


I thought I'd do better.

After years of reflection and playing it safe with certain aspects of my self, I thought I built up my tolerance to soundly grasp a bit more of my deepest and darkest desires.

Instead, when I finally got a hint of what I yearned for so long now, and I froze and burned.

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I'm left choking and blinded
by the smoke from the fires burning in me.
This could burn me alive and leave me obsolete.


I tell myself to be brave,
to grasp what I desire most,
but is it worth it if I end up sick and alone again...?
Can I simply not handle something so... rich anymore? I hate the idea of that, especially after how many years I've longed.

Yet, as much as it all excited me, I now am petrified.
This could crush me, this could ruin me,
but it could set me
f r e e. . .


One taste, and I'm unraveling.
This is beautiful, this is dangerous.
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I split myself into pieces to hear every aspect of myself. To meditate, to understand, and what I found and heard in the soul deep whirlwind I do not like.

Such a desire is poisonous and perilous. I'd know better than most. At the same time, it tempts me ruthlessly.

While I never had a serious issue tied to a drug, it reminds me of an addict who hadn't used in years now craving a fix that is mere inches away.

I am the type who rather listen to her emotions, but I'm not foolish enough to let them totally blind me. Reason kept crawling out from the dark, warning me and screaming at me that I'll become sick if I continued to indulge.

I cannot ignore the logical side of myself. No matter how tempting, the path of wild emotions and mentalities almost always ends up grievous.

I'll lose control, so much...
too much.


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So, what does this mean for me?
What is the right thing to do?


For now, I locked away my desires and my most intense self once again in the hellish limbo of my mind,
but I know that is unfair to me as a
whole.

I can hear it screaming.


It will fester,
scream,
torment,
and threaten to
tear me apart from the inside out
a for release.

It always does when it has a moment in the limelight.

I wish I could kill it.
I wish I could drown it in darken seas
so it would never resurface,
and it would go forgotten...

But it's far too ingrained in me.​


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Either way, I will fall,
but I still have some control over how hard.

I need to protect myself even if that means denying myself.
I'm safer in isolation and under veils.

I feel like an experiment of how much a heart, mind, and soul can take.

How many times must I fall apart and put the pieces back together?
Each time, they fit differently.

I fear soon more pieces will be too tattered to be used.


Will I ever be whole?
 
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July Thoughts
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I'm not done.


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I needed more than the echoing of my own mind, and so I threw myself back into an old community that I used to take part in. At first, it was a bit disheartening. It felt like I wouldn't quite fit in this time around, but for the most part, I managed to weave myself back in.

Finally, I have some that I can laugh with and express some of my inspirations.

It is not like how it was in the past, and it isn't perfect; parts of me still feel dreadfully lonely, but it makes me not feel as isolated and more worthwhile. Plenty look up to me, and while it is nice to feel appreciated, I'm happy that I can show a bit more color compared to the grayscale I was stuck in.

At the same time, this community has backfired on me plenty of times in the past, and some days are better than others. Still, I hope that I can continue to make more friends. They help me more than they realize.

I bloodied my hands gathering the shattered pieces, and I started to put myself back together again.

It gets so tiring to be so enduring yet fragile.

I'm left hoping nothing else comes my way until I'm done with this delicate process that I must do alone.

As much as I hate it, it allows me to review each layer and piece of myself as I solve my own puzzle.

I can try to make sense of this clouded whirlwind that rages in my mind and soul...

Maybe I'll even find out which pieces changed shape or were misplaced.

I always fear that I'll discover that something is missing, but I know I'll be fine as long as my soul shines bright.

I may break, but I refuse to fade.



When it comes to you,
I never learn my fucking lesson,
but this time around,

I can see.



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I finally realized what I needed.

I needed to at least briefly connect
with someone that has a piece of me.


I needed you to look at me.

I needed to know you were out there...
somewhere.

Even if we could never return to the past,

I needed to know that I was not erased.
I gave you too much for that.

As much pain as it brings,
you kept a part of me... alive.

Thank you for giving me a moment.


I felt my very soul sigh in relief.

This could be the closure that I've longed for...
Unless you fight for it,
which you won't
I'm going to take that piece back.
Watch me.
I will be free.
 
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[Vent]
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Chasing Lights

Sacred heart, twisted mind.
Tangled soul, yet spirit alight.
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Playing it safe to keep it at bay.
Under a neon light,
shielded from the noxious dark.
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Blurred,
stare at the light,
Don't let it go out of sight.
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Fixed until eyes turn numb,
or the sea of black will come.
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The illumination dims,
and with every unstable exhale,
it flickers and sways.
The light grows cold.
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Something is coming.
Don't go out now.

Holding breath,
lungs ached.
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I can't go back to where fire meets sea.
To those who helped create or fuel this hell,
I hate you.
 
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[Vent]
I've been going though a lot...
and a few days ago...

I Had a Dream...
So simple, yet so vivid.


I was out of control...

I was drowning in my emotions. My existence was on fire.

All I could do was cry and scream as I shattered.

A man comes up to me and tries to calm me.

It is pointless.

There isn't any peace inside of me.

The man becomes silent and stern.

Quicker than I can blink and without uttering a word of warning, I find myself pinned down to the ground.

The side of my face left to kiss the ground as he holds me in place by the back of my head.

I fight, I scream, I curse at him trying to break free.

He did nothing but hold me there with his unyielding grasp as I turn into an animal underneath him.

After I burn up some energy and my options... something magical happens.

Then... my body and mind start to accept this reality.

The fate decided for me by one more powerful than myself.

I'm helpless. He isn't letting go,

I can finally...
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submit.

I do so, and I can't move, I lose my voice, only to be animated by his command.

I feel my very soul sigh in relief for handing over such profound control.

I truly found the peace I could find nowhere else,

and I find deep lust for the one who pacified me.

He holds me there, I fall into a deep meditative lull.

I silently pray in my mind that he immobilizes me more.

I hope that he will slip between my thighs while I'm so vulnerable and in-tune with my submissive state.

I hope that he will be my GOD, MY RELIGION, MY FAITH for the night...

but then I wake up.

I am fiending for it...
 
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[Delirium]

S n a p p e d

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> I'm so numb...
> I can't cry even though my soul is rotting.

StressorsSide Effects
Beloved cat with little time left. RIP, little one...
➜ Insane family.
➜ Chronic pain.
➜ Finances.
➜ Draining work.
➜ Little sense of direction.
➜ The desire for a better and totally different life.
➜ Mental scars from the past sting.
➜ Reminded of my inability to embrace love.
➜ Needs not sated. Forced to be dominant.
➜ Unable to be true self.
➜ Limited sleep & nightmares.
➜ Questioning both fate and faith.
➜ Stress eating.
➜ Irritable.
➜ Losing strength.
➜ Cutting off others; isolation.
➜ Dampening creativity.
Questionable impulsive and sadomasochistic desires.
➜ Little Motivation. Stuck doing mindless, unproductive tasks.
➜ Depressed. Lost. Cold hearted.
➜ Felt a deep part of me shatter once more.

Disordered Thoughts:
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Girl, is your heart and mind ready for this romantic horror story?
Be ready to be
haunted for an eternity.

̸͔͎̎́́́̀̈́̐͝ṵ̸̣̥͕͓̱͚̏͜ỏ̶͇̘͓͖̟͐̑ı̵̢̹̪̠̹̹̺͑̾̄̑̐̈́̿̚͝ś̷̈́́s̴̨̡͍͖̰͙̤̑̿̓̾͂͒͜ɐ̸͇̐̅̎̑̇̌d̵͙̓͋̉̓́́̎ ̵̙̬̾̈́̍̊̅̎͝ʎ̷̧͈͇̱̲̦̜͌͜ɯ̸̢̨̞͍̦̆͐͜ͅ ̵̪̞͙́̈́s̸̛̛͔̣̤̐̌̆̑̂͆̉s̸̙͙̆̆̋̉͋ɐ̶̡͍̪̺̱̟̟̭̱̹̅̑͂̌d̵̟͛͝ɹ̸͇̩̱̭̎͒͐͆́͐̓͂͝n̸͎͔̩̏s̵̛̛̪̞̟͂̈́̊͂̔̚ ̸͙̦̤̎̊̾͆̇̽͌͝ᴚ̵̻͙̼̠̫̾̍͠ͅƎ̷̧̣̓Λ̷̹̤̔̈́̉̈́̐̿͐́Ǝ̸͓̤̀͋̓̄͛̔N̷̳̟̥̾̏̀ ̷̥̺͇͍̝̲̺̳͚͓̀͒̏̾́̐͝l̸͓̫͔̙̠̳̏̈́̅̓̀l̷̢̛͈̫͖̙̠̈́ı̴̡̬̹̦̣̜͇̎̾͑̈́͝ʍ̷͔̥͇̝̘̫͈͈̑͗̇̏̓̊̂̽͗̍ ̷̜̒̏̔͂̔n̶̬̟͇̙̺̠̯̐͋̅̐̀͒̒̒̕͝ŏ̵͉̝͕ͅ⅄

He welcomed your obsession and you dived head first into it...

Are you still having fun?

I bet you were, and now he hardly give you an inch, huh?

You are left to feed on the little, inconsistent whispers of him while you show your daily dedication.

I bet you think you will change him, make him crave you in a way that he can't help but come back for more and more and more.... but, let me tell you this, girl.

You won't.

The more you desire him, the more he will pull away.

If it becomes too real, too strong, he will fade away until his desire comes back at some odd hour at night.

He will then tie your body and heart to him, make you give him every inch of you, every drop of your essence, only for him to come and go as he pleases.

I'm sure he warned you like he did with me, he won't commit.

Guess what?

You can give him your damn soul and divine passion, and he still won't.

If you are still able to, run.

If you are unable to, I'll eventually see you in limbo.


Those with an avoidant attachment style and others with an anxious attachment style attract one another.
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"You are too intelligent and hot to be in this situation."

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

"I want to make you happy."

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

"I love you."

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

I tell them again and again that I'm too damaged for love, but they don't believe me. They keep thinking that they will heal me. It is impossible, and I want to be alone.

Leave me
A L O N E.

My views on love are toxic, and it isn't anything I want. I will never fully trust another with my heart again. Everyone I have loved in any sense of the way has let me down, so fuck off and find someone else who is worthy to give a fuck about.

No one can save or heal me. My burdens too heavy, my heart and mind too broken. Move on and don't bother.

You can only have me in fantasies and dreams.

I will remain safe.
I will never risk taking another blow to the heart or soul again.


You could've had the world wrapped around your finger
You could've changed the course of history
You could've used your beauty and your power
You could've made the world a better place to be


You could've had it all
You could've had it all

But the demons found a home in your head
Made you believe that you were no one special
And you think that no one cares about you now
So tired of fighting out loud

You were so beautiful
Now there's a hole in the world where you left it
I've been feeling all alone
So maybe I'll be up there soon right next to you
You never thought love was true
So now I'm trying to find you running in your shoes

You you you could've had it all
You you you could've had it all

And you fought as hard as you could
To hide your trouble and all your struggles
There was no light at the end of your tunnel

And you hid it so well but
I know that you were really in hell on earth

Yeah I could see your sadness

No going back and in the end it was tragic
Too bad we'll never be a classic


...​

P.S. I am safe, just fed up and in need of expression.
 
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‧˚₊☆‧˚₊ Snippets ‧˚₊☆‧˚₊


All I need is...
P A S S I O N,
O B S E S S I O N,
&
A D R E N A L I N E
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Let's pretend it's love.
I can't be saved.
I can't be healed...


"I can't read you."
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"You scare me."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dominant women are pretty rare."
"I'd simp for you."
"Kinda like you bossing me around."
"You're a great leader."
"Just tell me what to do."


(NSFW Links)
They have no idea.
They don't even sense the truth.
Almost everyone likes my mask more.
The facade I must use to protect myself and
to make sure what needs to get done gets done.

After all, would be too nice if I could actually rely
on someone and their judgement for once, right?!


I endure.
I fight.
I plan.
I guide.
I take.
I enforce.


I hate you all for making me go against my nature.
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Just because I can do it, doesn't mean I want to.
Fucking weaklings.

If I don't stand up,
they won't.

So I fall into this role....
over and over.

They all look up at me...
Leaving me nowhere to look up to.


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Aimless. Lost. Dazed.

I lost my faith.
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I lost my heart.

I need a different path,
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This one will lead to my
demise.

Where do I look?
What do I do?
Where am I meant to be?
What is my purpose?


 
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RANDOM VENT

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The trees are pretty...
My mind is not.

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After facing many traumatic events in my life, I'm only emotionally available up to a certain point. Those who have tried to step beyond it are met with disappointment and a steel wall. I warn that it is there, but they often still try to break it down. Like they are special; like they are different.

It is the wrong angle to look at it, especially since part of the reason why that wall is there is because I want it there. I only care for others up to a certain point; I do not risk getting deeply hurt.

What is sad but funny is that those who are distressed by my wall end up strengthening it. They prove my point.- I've learned that when people don't get exactly what they want from me, they leave. So, why bother getting emotionally invested in people?



I'm a bit sad, but I knew that this would happen. I was hoping to stay on a fine line where I could be compassionate without going too far, but it always backfires. So many fall for allure and fantasy but are then met with the cold reality of a broken girl. They end up with sour feelings towards me, despite me telling them again and again what the outcome would be.

Again, there is silence. Now there is so much hurt towards me that they won't even tell me positive and life-changing news. I'm left to find out through the cracks instead.

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Go ahead, make me a fucking villain in your story like the others have.
The one who ruined you.
The one who broke your heart.
The one who 'led you on' despite all the fucking warnings.

Yup, punish me by taking away the little bit of true human connection I had.

I'm forced to re-live me saying that I'm still here as a friend to be met with a void in return.

My genuine offer still isn't good enough.

Fuck it!

How is it that I lost another connection? I was transparent about my compassion and boundaries... I just wanted a friend.

I was
C L E A R .​

But that was never enough; they always want the whole damn thing, every fucking piece of ME, with a bow on top.

I try to open up a bit, and it isn't enough for some or too much for others.

Then everyone I cross wonders why I'm so bitterly cold.

Ha...

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Let me just bitch and moan for a bit, because I can.

Over the summer, I injured my back at work pretty badly. My doctor was not helpful at all. She really minimized my pain and ended up saying something so rude at my last appointment that I haven't seen her since. I'd switch doctors, but my insurance is currently a nightmare. After months of issues with daily life and lack of sleep due to pain, I started to feel better. I was good for two weeks; I actually thought I closed the back pain chapter of my life, and I was hoping I could start dancing again soon. It is one of my passions that I haven't been able to dabble in for months now, and it's been disheartening.

Well... my back pain came back with a fury.

Will I ever heal...?

I feel like I went back five steps after months of trying to play it safe in order to recover. Now, I'm in constant pain again, and it is waking me up each and every night. It is terrible. I'm pretty sure I have a herniated disc, and it's ridiculously painful and crippling. I wish I could take a month off of work just to rest, but I can't.

I keep hoping I'm going to wake up with the pain gone, but so far that hasn't happened.

I miss dancing. I miss relaxing. I miss not being scared to sleep.

It is depressing....

Hopefully I'll put something more fruitful and appealing in my journal next time.
I just wanted to get some things off my chest...
 
Sadomasochism
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Preface: Getting lost in labels isn't usually ideal. After all, we are all dynamic creatures. However, some labels help us both communicate and understand. I am very introspective, often to the point that I have little idea what is going on around me. There is a maze and layers within my mind and soul, and I spend a lot of time and energy trying to unravel and profoundly understand it all. It can be arguable that this way of life is selfish, but I know there are depths beyond simple comprehension. So, I try to process aspects of myself piece by piece, at times, over and over again, while looking from different angles, often checking what has changed or remained. The deeper I dig, the more I understand, but often, the more lost I become. I feel like I'm in a realm very few others are in. Even after all this time, I still don't know is if this rumination is leading to enlightenment or insanity. Either way, it is probably still a more genuine self than masks and fulfilling the expectations of others.​

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To break & to be broken

For the longest time, I've considered myself a masochist. Not so much of a physical one (well, some), but if you have read one of my earlier journal entries, I've explained that I'm wired to have distress excite me.

When the world feels like it is on fire, I want to become a bigger fire. When my heart is shattered, I want to fuck the one who broke it until we are blue in the face. When I feel overwhelmed, I want to be pacified. When my demons tap on my brain, I lust for a demon greater than mine. The list goes on, but it is simply how I am. I do not want to be in a state of constant suffering, but I tend to want to take advantage of the hardships of life and it is the way I cope.

However, this kind of pain has shaped me also into the opposite. I find myself with more and more budding sadistic desires. I'm angry at the world; I want to spread and express my pain, and my mentality has become increasingly aggressive as more of my warmth and softness are washed away. This sadistic version of myself I'm still trying to understand.

Parts of it are sexual; other parts are not as direct. I still do not have any desire to cause suffering to a man in a sexual way. The idea of a man tied up, teary eyed, and bruised by me does not give me any satisfaction. I would see him as weak, which does not attract me. However, if I was trying to get some kind of revenge, the general aggression would thrill me. Also, in a fictional sense, I find myself drawn to tragedy. I thought maybe this was appealing to my masochist side, but now I'm thinking it is quite the opposite. After reading a story about suffering, I find myself excited at all the wild emotions it draws out of people. They become more alive and honest than ever.​

While on here, I tend to only look for FxM, but I'm very much bisexual. It is just... how I'm attracted to women is very... different. When it comes to other women, I'm rather sadistic. I often fantasize about seeing women in situations I enjoy as a masochist. Sobbing, begging, screaming, terrified, and driven near the state of madness.

It is so beautiful.

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Funny enough, RP has opened up my eyes to this sadomasochistic side of mine. I realized after enjoying getting character after character in terrible situations that I was enjoying it not just from the masochistic point of view. I loved their suffering as a sadist. Also, my RPs kept turning darker on a non-sexual level. Wanting to write evil characters who would burn down the whole world and find joy in it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around these conflicting themes to better understand myself and the appeal. There has to be a more clear pattern or a better explanation. Also, for the record, 99% of these dark thoughts are tied to fiction and fantasy. I'm a lot more morally sound in reality.​

 
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Tangled Soul
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Preface: There have been many times in my life when I've experienced emotions, mentalities, and situations that were too great to put into words.

Ineffable (adj)
incapable of being expressed or described in words; inexpressible.

When something becomes ineffable to me, it drives me crazy. This is especially true since I'm a writer. While I won't say I have the vastest lexicon on the planet, I aim to write with complex layers, play with different figures of speech, dig into various thesauruses, dabble with poetry, apply color, and forces of nature, and yet, at times, I still find myself barely scratching the surface of expression and explanation.

As a creative writer, it pushes me and has inspired me to take on the challenge of trying to explain near-ineffable emotions and moments.

At times, I blame English (or possibly the overall construct of language, although I've read that other languages can be a lot more expressive than English) for not having enough words, but maybe I'm looking at it wrong.

How would one explain exact colors and hues to someone who is colorblind?

I've come to the conclusion that at times, words and possibly art in general cannot capture the true intricacies and depths of the human experience and mind.

Currently, I'm facing a few situations that feel very ineffable, especially without a lot of twists, turns, questions, and metaphors, but I will try. It has been heavy on me in both mind and spirit. It's been hindering, so I will try to express at least some.

Here I go...

My perception of self was hampered once again. It is a real shame since I thought I was making progress, but this always happens in some way or another. The pieces of the puzzle line up, the big picture starts to become clear, and then the partially finished puzzle drops to the ground.​

Scattered. Ruined. Perplexing.
How many times must my pieces be scattered?

I want to be wrong, but I believe I found one of my main purposes in this world, and I don't love it. Of course, it could be worse. There are many darker fates and mine at least benefit others...​

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"You've opened my eyes..."

If only I knew how many times I've heard that in some form or another...

I'm worried that trying to express this will come off as egotistical, so I would like to clarify by saying I don't believe i have this influence over everyone. It just seems to be the case with those I've come close to in my life. I've helped many people find depth or see the need to change while often not trying. My insight, my passion, my abnormal perception, and my emotional depths have touched others in intricate ways.

While I should be flattered, this leads to those being 'done' with me, or simply not the same person I've gotten to know. Even if they were not selfish about it or cruel, I feel like I'm nothing more than a tool. A tool to be used and forgotten.​

The more I think about it, the more it becomes clear:
> Those that I've loved, I've shown surreal, passionate depths to that they now use to light other souls aflame instead.
> Those who were struggling with their darkness and demons, I've helped iron out the deepest parts of them, for them to succeed, change, and forget about my existence.
> Those that I've allowed to unleash on me, enduring it all, to never get a wholehearted thank you or apology.
> Those I've allowed to open up to me without judgment, while I do the same, end up wanting me all to themselves or hating me for not fitting their mold.

There is more, but overall I feel like for my efforts, compassion, sacrifices, and aid, I do not only fail to get rewarded, but I'm usually punished for it. Often, I am disregarded, used, have unfair expectations set upon me, or even hated.

"You have a gift."

So while I've deeply touched a handful of people, I've come to feel like I'm nothing more than a pawn of fate. I'll change the tides within others, only to be washed away afterward.

Not only that, but it is rare that I get the same relief in return. I have to keep my deepest feelings suppressed, I have to endure any blowback, my depths remain untouched, I have emotional scars, I remain insatiable, and I've even been in situations where I wouldn't leave behind people who deserved it and would forsake me in a heartbeat.​

To have the fate of a tool is a somber one...
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Can I be more...?
The ghost of the one haunting me has been finally thinning in my mind. After all this time, he shouldn't even be haunting me in the slightest, but this has been a struggle of mine for years now. I do feel some relief as he loses color and presence in my mind and heart. I feel like I need to finish erasing him just in case he decides to come find me. I'm not sure if he ever will again, but I know for a fact that the most simple conversation with him would shake my entire world. I think he is the only man who will ever have such power over me... I've learned my lesson, and I don't want anyone else to have that capability. I do miss it, but after the deep scar it left me with, I'll leave such fantasies in fiction.

I am happy to be less haunted, but I've gotten so used to his relentless ghost. The loss of his love and passion when I needed it most has been traumatic and has caused me so much heartbreak and festering thoughts. I have so much more important and critical things to worry about, and yet his ghost remained at the top of my list even after so much time. I know that this isn't healthy, and yet I can't really help it. I feel like I can't find any inner peace without him, but after all this internal hell, he also scares the shit out of me.

Even if I could have him... I couldn't accept him. He killed the last glimmer of romantic love I was capable of. He has no idea how much he has inflicted me, and others can't wrap their head around it.​

It is all such a cruel fate.​

I never meant to make him the 'villain' of my story, especially to these depths. I will say that he should be utterly ashamed of how things were handled, but although selfish, he didn't have some grand master plan to hurt me so profoundly. it is my fault for getting so wrapped up in it all, allowing it to sink down into my very soul, and holding on to hope. Trust me, I've tried just about everything to let him go and lessen the pain other than literally bashing my head into a wall.
He lives in my soul...

The dark side of obsession is a fucking soul-wrenching
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Č Ǘ Ř Ŝ Ẹ .

Anyway, to get to the point, I realized how his ghost was becoming a whisper, and it has been more peaceful within me.
> Love and rage-filled songs don't make me think of him as much.
> Seeing his name or something that bluntly reminds me of him is making me cringe less.
> I haven't seen him in my dreams as much.
> When I close my eyes to meditate, I no longer meet his silhouette.
> I haven't been fantasizing about fucking him or screaming at him in reflection of the pain he left me with.
it's been quiet.
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Too quiet...

After all this time, I've realized that I feel lost without his pain. It has become so familiar that it is making me try to cling on to the pain and ghost instead of finally releasing it. This hurt has become a part of me.​

> If I keep the pain, it feels like I still have a part of him. It is all I have left of him.
> I feel like I should keep a tealight on for him just in case he ever comes back around with grand realizations.
> Who am I at this point without a bleeding heart? I feel empty without this pain.
> The pain is better then emptiness.
> I want revenge.

I'm 110% aware that all these thoughts are unhealthy and need to be dealt with. I'm not so far gone that I don't see logic or recognize how self-destructive embracing his ghost and chasing lost feelings are, and so I will continue to try to overcome such thoughts and release him from my mind, but it is so incredibly hard.​



 
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Lost Writing
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I hate when my efforts, time, and energy go to waste on people who ghost.​

While not my best writing, I still worked rather hard on this post. Took a few days to brainstorm with my partner and alone, and I was so motivated that I even stayed up past my bedtime writing. So, I thought I might as well add it to my journal instead of it sitting in oblivion.

My character's tragic backstory was meant to be a big deal, and it kinda tells like a short story. - If you don't like tragedy, I recommend skipping this reading.

So, this is the majority of my post (it was a bit longer, but probably won't make sense without brainstorming context) with some revisions:

[Two Years Ago]

"Do you think Mommy will like my picture?" The young girl squinted in harsh judgment over her own art. For ten years old, there was only so much one could expect out of little Lily, but with the number of colors and the fact that the piece of paper was almost devoid of any white made it clear that she put a lot of effort into it.

"Let me see." Heather snatched the piece of paper away to pretend to judge the art, but Lily held her breath in wonder over what her big sister would think. "A picture of me, you, and Mom flying your kite, huh?" She smiled in approval. "She will like it. Maybe we can fly kites again next weekend."

"Weeeeeee!" The girl with long, beautiful blonde hair did a cheerful spin of excitement. She sure loved flying kites as of late, and Heather didn't blame her. With how often their mother was working, it was one of the few times a week the three of them could spend time together. "I hope Mommy likes it a lot! It is her birthday gift!"

Heather placed a hand on Lily's head and ruffled her hair. "That's sweet of you. She'll love it. I promise." Despite their rather large age gap of ten years, the two girls got along great. Although Heather often felt more like a mother figure than a sister. With their mom barely home and their father, who passed away in a car accident right after Lily's birth, it left Heather needing to grow up rather quickly to look after her younger sister.

Lily turned towards the hall. "I'm going to go back to my room. I want to make Mommy two pictures!"

"Two?! Mom will feel so lucky." Heather cracked a smile. "Alright, you'll have to show me when you are done. I'm going to finish up dinner." Heather would shift towards kitchen, and that's when she noticed how much the sky had darkened. "Lily, if it is open, close your bedroom window; it looks like it is going to rain." A storm in May? There was nothing too unusual about that, although their mother might be late returning home.



The family lived a little over an hour away from the city, residing in the small but bustling town of Clearview. It was an ideal place for many families to live. Away from the noise of the city, but still not surrounded by miles of boring farms. A perfect in-between, and with little crime, good schools, and well-kept homes, almost everyone in Clearview was happy with their lives. There was little to worry about in such a peaceful town.

After finishing up high school a few years prior, Heather was trying to figure out her life. She was a rather modest and simple girl, and worked at a bookstore part-time. It was nothing to brag about, but it allowed her to still look after her sister and help with the bills. Their mother had struggled to keep a roof over the girls' heads after their father's death, but it didn't stop her from taking extra shifts at the diner each night and picking up odd jobs every so often just to try to give her daughters a better life. While it was difficult to keep everything afloat, the family managed by working and smiling together.



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Heather opened up the oven's door and peeked inside. It looked like her barbecue chicken legs were just about done. Grabbing a set of plates and forks, Heather would set the table as she did almost every night. When she was finished, she would go check on the oven a final time and-....

ReeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
An ominous siren wailed in the distance.​

Heather froze in consideration, but ended up not thinking much of it. The siren was sensitive. The number of times that thing went off for nothing to happen...

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

She checked her phone, she saw the warnings of a severe thunderstorm but didn't see anything about a tornado. Weird... probably was nothing then.

Lily yelled from down the hall, "Sissy, do we have to go in the smelly and scary cellar?"

Lightning flashed, and thunder cracked. "Maybe, but not now. You can keep drawing. It is just a storm." Heather refreshed her weather app, but there were still no notifications regarding an actual tornado. So, she would put down her phone for a moment and pull the chicken out of the oven.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Looking back towards the window, the sky had taken on a musky green hue. That was enough for Heather to grab her phone, toggle the flashlight, and head toward the cellar as a precaution.

It was located in the back of the house, and the small space was only used for some storage. Heather checked the ladder, turned on the small wall light inside, and cleared up some space just in case she needed to bring Lily down, and....

The light inside the cellar would flicker before all power to the house was cut off. Her phone would finally chime:

AT 5:22PM A TORNADO WAS OBSERVED AND TOUCHED DOWN IN CLEARVIEW.
THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.
TAKE COVER NOW.

Heather's heart dropped. She gasped and scrambled towards the ladder, hearing shattering glass from upstairs and then... SLAM. - The hatch was shut.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee-......

It sounded like the siren was finally turning off, but actually, the wails were being swallowed by the violent white noise of the tornado overhead. Soon, it would sound almost grinding and metallic, like a train. Despite all the disturbing sounds, Heather would rush up the ladder in the darkness and attempt to push the door open, but the overpowering force of nature kept her sealed in. She didn't care if she was opening up the door to a fatal storm, her sister was still up there! Heather slammed her shoulder up against the door, again and again, trying to get out.

"LILY!!!!!"

It didn't take long for the tornado to roll through, but it felt like a lifetime for Heather. Other than some rumbling of lingering storm clouds, it did eventually go quiet... too quiet.

Slam, slam, slam!

Why couldn't she get the door open?!

SLAM!

Heather heard a pop come from her shoulder due to the blunt force. She let out a cry of pain, but it didn't stop her. Her adrenaline was pumping; she needed to get to Lily! She used her other shoulder.

SLAM! CRACK.

The door was wedged enough that she could see that her home was no longer a home... it was open sky and a battlefield of debris. Part of the roof was on the cellar door, but it didn't stop Heather. She pushed and pushed, and eventually, she managed to get the door open enough that she could army crawl out.

Getting to her feet with a hand on her injured shoulder, she looked around for her sister. "Lily?!" She whipped her head to the left and right. "LILY?!"

"Hea...ther..." Her voice was hauntingly weak. "It... h-hurts..."

Looking over to the direction she heard her sister's voice, she saw strands of blonde hair peeking from the rubble. The small girl was hidden under a crushing mound of beams and collapsed walls.

"LILY! HOLD ON! I'M HERE!"

Heather would never feel so helpless in her life. It was a blur of further damaging her shoulder that would hurt for years to come, receiving countless splinters in her hands, and her palms turning red from blood as she desperately tried to move an claw as much debris as she could off of Lily. The more she uncovered, the sicker she felt. That blonde hair was turning pink and red from blood loss. By the time Heather was able to pull her sister free, she was barely breathing, her body in grave condition.

Without thinking, Heather ran for help with her sister in her only good arm, Lily's hot blood stained across her body.

There was one glaring problem... there wasn't any help. All her neighbors suffered a similar fate. That included her lifelong friend, Cassie and her brother that Heather admired, Evan. There was nowhere to turn; this was hell.

"I... lo...ve... you, sis...sy." Lily's perfect blue eyes would close, her small body would turn cold and limp in her big sister's arms.
 
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DON'T THINK ABOUT IT!
 
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[Vent]
What a Mess
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He cannot one-up me. He cannot have me.
No one can.


I've gotten myself in a bit of a mess, and I can't talk to anyone about it since it would cause concern, I struggle to ask for help, and I should have handled it all differently.
However, I'm not completely to blame. I lit a match, but he was the one who spread it to become a
wildfire.

Preface: Just like everyone else, I have plenty of flaws, and one of those is my mouth. I literally don't know how to shut the fuck up when I feel comfortable with someone. You see, I come with many secrets, especially to those who know me offline. My presence and appearance also help hide those secrets. My traumas, desires, true colors, and restless mind are all under wraps. On a surface level, most describe me as innocent and sweet, but that couldn't be more wrong. I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. Not because I have any ill plans (but it would be unwise to have me as an enemy), but because I know I'd be misunderstood, it wouldn't be appropriate, and it wouldn't benefit me in the long run. I've lived with facades since I was a child, and that doesn't change now even as a grown woman. It is what it is.

However, that does not change the fact that I sit day in and day out with so much fucking suppression. I'm not allowed to express myself how I wish. I'm not allowed to say what is going on in my mind. I'm only allowed to paint with pastels. I am the lie that everyone wants to see. The universe does not care if I suffocate on my own hidden truths, so here I am, breathless.

Sometimes I have a chance to tell people bits and pieces of my honest self. Almost never does anyone actually comprehend the twisted depth of it all, but some are at least open enough to understand certain parts. It is so refreshing when they do.

So, reader, be ready to palm your face for this one. This is about someone I work with who is technically one of my bosses. Although, hardly, I have him wrapped around my finger, and he is clinging on to it. I have such power over him—enough ammo to ruin his life many times over. However, I don't want this, and it isn't stopping the harassment I'm facing, but if I lose control of this situation, all hell could break loose.

I must be ready to defend myself. I can never be weak. Letting my guard down is never an option, and this is a good reason why:​

After working closely together for half a year, we formed a friendship of sorts. He makes plenty of jokes, we banter, and we teach each other things we know from our shared trade. We have also coped together through the difficult parts of our jobs that have us close to walking out the door one day. Throughout our time together, we have very obvious boundaries based on work and our personal lives, but we have a pretty good friendship.

Well, he is someone who overshares about a lot of things, from his family, his personal demons to even stupid little gross things. I kind of envy how open and honest he is, although he should really learn to balance it some. His openness drew me in, and after knowing me for months, he told me that he still couldn't figure me out and that he could tell there was a lot more to me; there were too many blanks. So, here and there, I started to be a bit more open. Then I started to fall into my old patterns of oversharing once I knew someone was listening. While there is plenty I didn't tell him, I told him more than enough. For some sensitive topics, I spoke... objectively, making it clear I was merely expressing myself, not trying to make an inappropriate move or get pity. Honestly, the bit I told him made me feel really nice. So, I'd tell him more here and there while he shared more depth with me. However, what came next I wasn't prepared for.

It turned out that he was wearing a mask too. I found that I do not like his true colors, and I don't know how to handle them. I'm trying to put out the fires I started, but he wants everything around us to burn. The compassion he had for me seemed to disappear, to be replaced with delusion and growing lust at an alarming rate. I reminded him that I was speaking objectively and that I saw him as a friend. He doesn't care (do they fucking ever?). He is willing to risk everything to have me. Him finding any way to try to touch me playfully or 'accidentally' while making 'jokes' about going in the backroom together.

"Are you some kind of witch? I'm wildly attracted to you.
This has to be some fucked-up voodoo. I've never felt like this before..."

"I didn't do anything!
I was talking to you as a friend who wanted to speak freely.
I wasn't trying to start all this!"

His true colors were blazing the moment I came in the other day. He became manic and kept telling me to stay away from him since he wanted me too badly. Yet, moments later, I'd be called into his office.​

"You should take off your pants."
"Not gonna happen, idiot."

While I'm an attractive enough woman to have felt plenty of male gazes on me, I never felt someone so shamelessly and intensely look at me. I never felt like such a piece of meat. It was actually really gross, more than I ever thought it would be since it wasn't just a moment, but all fucking day. He did not hide the fact that every time we crossed, he was eye-fucking me.

I bluntly told him to stop looking at me like some pathetic, horny teenager, but he said he didn't care. He told me how badly he wanted to split me open and ruin me. Stunned by his words, I snapped back at him, but he was not deterred.

I had even told him, that was not the way to woo me, and he said he didn't care again, as if nothing was going to stop him now. A man on a mission, I could sense how intense the energy was. I was being seen as prey to a degree that had me rather concerned. He was desperate for me. This was getting too dangerous, especially for someone I do not have mutual feelings for. I was sad to see that I lost another friend to madness, but for my own safety, I had to flip the script and regain control.

I did, but fuck... how did he manage to make this worse?
Long story short, if pushed, I can now intimidate him and have him say, 'Yes ma'am', but his feelings for me are now expanding beyond lust. He started to follow me around, revealing his deepest secrets to me unprovoked. These secrets made me even less attracted to him; he seemed to like to be emasculated, which.. isn't my thing by a long shot. He also revealed how bat-shit crazy he was (not in a fun way). He had grown too comfortable while my defenses strengthened. He was taking advantage of the fact that I'm pretty open to expression since I know what it is like to hold back. Again, I had to keep my own truths under lock and key while others could ramble away, trusting I wouldn't spread their secrets or judge them too harshly. I'm good at both, but this scenario with me wasn't helping his case. It had helped me see that I needed to distance myself even more.

Well, to make matters worse... he started to casually throw around the word 'love' the other day, and I wanted to vomit.

"Man, falling in love drives me crazy."

I'm a rather love-repulsed woman. I'm all for compassion and friendship, but love... well, just look at my journal entries; I'm pretty sure anyone can get a general sense. I decided to reveal that love is a very triggering topic to me, and he had his own family to worry about... A day later I got a call:
"I woke up in the middle of the night and thought you were at my side."
"You... what...?"
"Love you, miss you, goodbye!"
"WHA-?"
[Call Ended]

I then get a few lust-fueled texts where I basically ignore him or tell him to fuck off. He is willing to risk so much, all while I'm giving him the cold shoulder and trying to tell him again and again that he needs to take a step back. I do miss him as a friend, but I don't think it is possible to go back to our innocent banter. He went 0 to 100 on me.

When we had our friendship under control, perhaps I was developing an innocent kinda crush on him. It was nothing I wanted to get too wrapped up in especially given my history and our situations, but those warm feelings went out the door. He showed me he struggles with self-control and revealed desires that do not mesh with mine at all, the biggest being how quickly I can turn him submissive. Yet, I cannot control his growing obsession with me or his instability.

It is rare that I can have a normal friendship with a male without them losing it, I swear... Also, I tend to attract men who aren't my type, so I should have assumed.

So, that is my vent. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I need a new job for several reasons, and this is adding to it.
 
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My mind is made out of:
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Wildfires & Dark Seas

Note: It has been brought to my attention that my journal is mostly negative. I'm well aware of that, and it is something I often reflect on. However, the point of this journal is for me to express what I feel like I cannot to others without sounding unhinged or weak. I can easily talk about the good things with whoever, but this journal gets out some of my deepest thoughts. While I could write privately, it brings me relief to know that a few strangers are reading my journal. It makes me feel a little less alone. Over time, I am aware that people who I loosely know have also found this journal, but I do not care. I will write freely. I'm not here to pick up admirers or even expect to be understood. I don't care who thinks I'm crazy, sick, and/or wrong. This is one of my few true freedoms. No one will stop me.


Preface: We only know one perception, and that is our own. I do not know the thought processes of others, so what I plan to write about today might sound familiar or alien. However, I believe we all can understand, at least to some degree.

My inner world is one of threatening fires and abyssal seas. I do my best to walk on the shoreline between them. Maybe one day I will get into the details of this world, but the most important aspect is how I keep the fires at bay and how I don't slip into the cold void. It is a balancing act. I ignore the blinding and licking flames. I fight against the hypnotic lapping waves. One wrong move, and I'd be consumed by one of these spiritual forces of nature. As much as I want to, I cannot surrender.

So, how I keep myself in that safe in-between is with a sense of balance. The problem is that, at times, I have a hard time finding it. My difficult life and my questionable mentality have put me at high risk of being thrashed into flames or the cold sea. Then the only one who can put out the fires or swim back to shore is me. I cannot express how difficult it is. My inner exhaustion is critical.

It has been extra hard lately since I realized that there is currently little to no safe place for me to rest my thoughts. Everything is reminding me of something; everything is hurting, confusing, and worrying me. I find myself unable to think of friends, family, my home, food, health, money, creativity, nature, my job, the future, the past, the present, my dreams, my emotions, and my desires without feeling like I'm a breath away from burning alive. Everything is wrong; everything is tainted. Only here and there in fantasy can I get some relief, but that is even hard to come by. Meditate just brings me to the land of fire and sea.

Nothing is where I want it to be. Nothing feels right. My head quickly turned into a tangled mess of trying to find a thought or activity that my brain can just rest on and find peace with, but I'm struggling. I swear, every time I try, it backfires. I could give countless examples of trying to make new friends, dabbling in new projects, attempts to better myself, etc... end up fucking up in a way that hurt more than help.

I feel like I don't belong anywhere. I feel like it is futile. I feel like I'm about ready to crawl out of my skin. I feel like my mask needs to be glued to my face. There is nowhere to turn and no one to trust. I can't even trust myself, and so I sit in this chaos. I spend so much time trying to figure out how to unravel myself from all this... SHIT.

There are constant sirens in my head. Distracting, blazing, distressing... I'm choking on the smoke. I find myself breathless and lost as I lose all clarity.​

I'm burning, I'm screaming, and not a damn person can hear me.

Yet, even if I had a chance to be heard, it would only backfire. These are my problems, and I refuse to make them anyone else's. I've learned the painful lesson that the most I can show people is whatever truth they see through the cracks. Exposing myself can bring others confusion, frustration, hurt, or fear, making my inner world all the worse as I feel guilty and even more alien-like. I never have the goal of spreading my hurt or bringing concern... I try so hard to take care of everything myself.

All I truly want in this life is a bit of peace, expression, and to live as my honest self, but... it will never happen.

Isolation, suffering, countless masks, disorder....

May this storm pass.
WHERE CAN I REST MY MIND?
 
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Alone
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I knew the truth, but facing it was quite difficult.
I had to go to the hospital to get a procedure done, and it was all pretty upsetting. Not only was the whole topic triggering since it was related to the early death of my father, but it was pretty extensive and invasive. I was terrified that they would find what they had found in my dad or that something would go wrong. Long story short, luckily, they did not find anything wrong, and other than being drained and loopy for a day or two from needing to recover, I was okay. The problem was realizing how little I had to turn to during such a critical time.

Right before the procedure, I cut more people off. I had realized that I didn't want half-hearted people near me. Maybe that was a mistake since having casual friends is a good thing, but after realizing that they probably wouldn't much care if I had devastating news, I didn't want them near me. I'm tired of hollow friendships and love. I rather have nothing.

No one is through thick and thin.​

What upset me was the only people who cared were the people who were supposed to, my toxic immediate family. It upsets me so much how I wish I could be countless miles away from them, and yet they are the only people who would pick me up from the hospital.

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I felt this deep loneliness...

I feel trapped....

It sickened me that when I woke up, there was no face I wanted to see.
There was no one I was yearning to message.
I knew I was merely being checked on out of obligation.

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Who am I living for?

A few years ago, I concluded that I wanted to be mostly alone. I realized the only person you can depend on is yourself. However, being in a scary medical situation where I felt like everything was out of my control and there was the potential for really bad news... I realized that I can't do everything all by myself. I need others no matter how much I wish I didn't.

I should work on strengthening my social circles, but beyond jokes and art, I struggle to connect with people, or they get the wrong idea. I probably shouldn't have cut off my more casual 'friends', but I don't have it in me to entertain relationships without heart.

My last dear friend and I had just parted ways a few months ago with the suggestion that we could be friends again in the future, but they had completely burned that idea to the ground by deleting me everywhere online. I was stunned to feel so... bluntly left behind again. This was after long agreeable talks about my need for committed friendship and the loneliness I felt. They were empathetic, but I guess I was just wasting my breath.

I'll tackle this world alone, but what am I to do if the world is trembling under my feet and I lose my footing? Is it weak if I need someone to help stand me back up?

Is that too...
PATHETIC?
DEPENDENT?
DISGRACEFUL?
 
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The Secrets Behind
𝓟𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷
(Spoiler warning for an old book no one will probably read?)

I've been wanting to write this journal for some time, but I feel like it might be hard to capture what I want to convey.

I read a book titled, Like Water for Chocolate in high school. Would I recommend this book? Not really. I didn't love the story beyond its overarching themes and concepts, but it did leave an impression on me that has heavily shaped my passion for passion (ha). I will mostly go based on memory (after looking at some details, seems my memory is a tad off?), so some of the details may be wrong, but what is important here is the hidden message of a Cinderella/Romeo and Juliet-like story and how it inspired me. It was while reading this book that I figured out how blinding, profound, and dark passion could be. How too much of a good thing could be so beautiful and yet so deadly. It also helped me see the difference between love and passion.

To this day, I owe it to this book for being the foundation of a lot of my muse and deep thinking. I hope to one day write a book/short story with a similar core theme but with my own explanation.​


So, let me give you a rough summary of the book (at least the parts that inspired me/how I remember it):

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A young woman is fated to care for her aging mother while her sister is soon to be married. Envious but graceful, she does her best to accept her situation even though it gnaws at her. She kept it to herself quite well, until she and her sister's fiance ended up catching feelings for one another.

They know this is wrong, and that she can never marry, but they struggle to contain their attraction. They keep it pent up. Ignoring it, as encounters and close calls lick at their flames.

Long story short, their desire to be with each other hit an all-time high. They realize that if they couldn't be together, they had to at least spend ONE night together. So, in a room glowing with many candles, the pair get tangled and lost in one another. Their lovemaking was so passionate, that it caused one of the candles to spread its flames. Everything
burning around them, but they couldn't stop. There was no attempt to escape the raging flames. Blinded by their passion while knowing the fact that they would never be accepted together, they let the place burn around them. They were then swallowed by their beautiful yet horrifying flame of passion. Essentially burning alive in each other's arms.



However, there is a bit more to this story. There is a warning, and also a very interesting perception regarding passion, fire/explosions, and the soul:
"Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves; we need oxygen and a candle to help. In this case, the oxygen for example, would come from the breath of the person you love; the candle would be any kind of food, music, caress, word, or sound that engenders the explosion that lights one of the matches. For a moment we are dazzled by an intense emotion. A pleasant warmth grows within us, fading slowly as time goes by, until a new explosion comes along to revive it. Each person has to discover what will set off those explosions in order to live, since the combustion that occurs when one of them is ignited is what nourishes the soul. That fire, in short, is its food. If one doesn't find out in time what will set off these explosions, the box of matches dampens, and not a single match will ever be lighted." ― Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

The foreshadowing and spiritual warning is haunting:
"You must take care to light the matches one at a time. If a powerful emotion should ignite them all at once, they would produce a splendor so dazzling that it would illuminate far beyond what we can normally see; and then a brilliant tunnel would appear before our eyes, revealing the path we forgot the moment we were born, and summoning us to regain the divine origins we had lost. The soul ever longs to return to the place from which it came, leaving the body lifeless."Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate


These quotes are so thought-provoking. I recommend reading them very closely if you didn't. From the matchbook theory to the possible divine origin of it all, I love it. I dream of experiencing such passion, to have all my matches lit despite the warnings, although I wouldn't want to become lifeless. If only we could survive the firework show... but what if we could?
 
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