Deleting and making a new blog.

To my followers and anyone who comes across this.

I have had this blog for I believe 4 or 5 years now and when I first made it, I used my legal first name as my url and I want to get away from that.

I’d hate to lose my followers, but I want to make a new blog and move all of my writing over to it.

I will make another post with my new blog url when I make one.

Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me since the beginning and thank you to all of my new readers.

 

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Honest Throats

Coffee stained regrets and cigarette infused thoughts                               Overwhelmed by the gut wrenching permanency                                       brought in with every inhale

Empty throats and trembling hearts intoxicated                                             with growing dependencies on new interruptions

Rising tension and dissipating sources                                                     Exhausting ever crevice and corners                                                                       that the mind has in store

Dreaming of old settlements and sleepless filled drunkenness                 Fighting with promises made under false pretensions                                     and honest remarks spewed through timeless efforts

 

depression

Sometimes depression makes me feel like I’m living out someone else’s life because one minute i have a strong head on my shoulders and the next day iw ake up forgetting that i even had stability for even a few minutes or that it felt like years ago.

It’s as though, I’m falling down and I’m screaming, but the waves are hitting me so hard that everytime I even attempt to stand up, my legs knock down beneath me.

 

I’m actually in a good mood and I want to document this moment because it’s rare that I actually write about my feelings instead of how I think I’m feeling.

I feel warm and soft and sweet. I actually care and it’s taken me years to realize that I’m not the thoughts that come rushing at me in the middle of the night.

I’m not the invasive panic attacks that hit me when I’m out in public doing literally nothing but walking around or sitting down.

I am this person who has allowed their thoughts to win against their heart.

I am this person who is very good, but prefers to self project their insecurities on to people and attempt to push them awya before they can run off by themselves.

I’ve placed so much dwelling and hatred on my past that I literally have been living in it. Some days now, I’m out of it walking around with a new head and a fresh start.

I’ve come quite far, but I still have things to do, things to work on and places to be.

No one can go back into the past, you can only move forward even if it hurts to move forward. I’ve held back so much that I’m getting to the point where even if I don’t want to let certain thigns go, I need to.

I’e bene holding onto the person iw as because it’s who I’ve been living as for my entire life almost. I’m not that person as a whole, just parts. I am someone else and that is okay.

 

 

Ghost-like Carrier

Slipping in and out of conciousness all the while being awake at the same time                                                                             just running out of space, perametre is smaller than the waiting line

Abruptly woken up by an alarm, watching the surface crack                                                                                                           snapping of the mouth, walking through the marsh

Our souls are just ghosts carrying around a lifeless corpse

Situated Corpses.

I finally jumped onto the Twenty One Pilots band wagon and am writing this post while listening to:

Car Radio – Twenty One Pilots

“I run off before I even push them away. I try so hard to solidify myself to situations.. to my own state of being but im a ghost carrying around it’s own corpse. ”

I feel as though everything seems to be a matter of ” trying ” mostly because I over think and under think.

I think too much, but I also hardly think before I speak because my mind is constantly racing, tracing the constant circles that I ahve created cycles within.

My head keeps falling while my body stands tall and weak waiting for the exact moment that my mind will match it’s lively hood.

Crawling, sprawling out amongst the fields of my sprouting memories, dampening Nostalgia.

Induced preventions

Ranting, screaming through my fingers but for some reason there is a block

Where, when why are there so many things stopping me, i’m allowing them to stop me, prevent me from simply waking up from my zombie-induced body bag

Simply trudging, walking, running through the subway tracks, hoping they’ll cave in and I’ll fall off the brink, edge shattered, sharp.

Just finding my way through the slow dancing legs the trees are waving to me, at me.