Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Friendship is not being allowed to express your opinions to your friend, your other friends, on twitter, Instagram, online, offline, or in the form of graffiti Friendship is not being allowed to be angry when your friend is openly screwing you over.  Friendship is changing literally everything about yourself in the hope that your friend will bother to offer you a scrap of attention left over, once they're done worshipping some dude  Your definition of friendship is a burden to me. I do not want it. 

A burden too strong for three to bear  But strong enough to bear three What am I 

Since my blog's offline anyway, I feel like maybe I can be less restrictive than I usually am, work out the answers to a couple of questions that have been bugging me for a long time. The most annoying of these questions is something I've been chucking under the "choice and cultural feminism is stupid and sucks" umbrella for a long time, but I need to know if I'm justified in thinking that way. "Respect homemaking and the choice to be a housewife." Why? 1. Homemaking is important and involves a lot of labour and we should respect and acknowledge that. We should acknowledge it, but I honestly don't feel like we should be respecting or encouraging such a choice. Now, people may agree with the not encouraging bit, while balking at the not respecting bit. Now there's no doubt that homemaking is an insane amount of work - menial physical, as well as emotional. The greater the number of family members, the worse it gets. And there is no pay. Even if on...

Maybe I do have less than you after all 

  Panic and fear. Too many things. Floating along, lost, unguided. Feeling as though nobody else speaks my language. Feeling as though perhaps I do not speak their language. How can such stupidity make sense to everyone else? Did we not grow up speaking the same language? How are people so willing to be content with ignorance? What stops them from discovering the whole truth before making accusations? How do those accusations make sense? I am not calm. Why did she say I was? I have not changed. Why did she think I have. And if I have changed - is that a good thing? Among snakes like those, isn't it right to be angry, to be flame, to burn everything? No, telling me I am calm doesn't please me. I must be fury. I must be fire. I must destroy everything before it has the chance to destroy me. Panic and fear. Too many decisions. Fear. Fear. Fear. FEAR. I cannot survive. I cannot live. I wish for death. I wish I was dead. I wish everyone was. - Written June 2, 2017 Context Unknown 

  Reposted from Twitter user @AlnaouqA Watermark on image reads: Anas Al-Shareef Dated: Possibly January 2024 Location: Possibly Al Jabalia Refugee Camp, Gaza, Palestine  Crawl back into the shadows from whence we came  Every last achievement turn'd to ash and blood  Something somewhere laughs at what we have to say  Dancing puppets treading safeties / Giving sanity away  I'm alive! Look at me  Look at the things I carved  Out of flesh and blood my own  Out of spite and fury thine  I'm alive! A win, a victory snatched  From the jaws of life  I turn triumphantly into the silence to find The laughter of children silenced forever 

The self-doubt is crippling. 

"The only true form of freedom, the only ethical form of freedom, is through self-limitation. It's not the privilege of choosing everything you want in your life, but rather, choosing what you will give up." - Everything is Fucked by Mark Manson 

I've often wondered about rock bottom. Would I know when I hit it? The answer is no, because I seem to live there.

In circles she goes, running out the clock of her life. Why me why me why me why me why why why *whining continues endlessly* 

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic and she said yes

After breaking the screen on my phone for the third time this year, and with the screen on my tab also broken, I thought I'd log into twitter through desktop and have a meltdown.  Except it turns out Twitter is having an even worse day. 

Two things I'll always be terrible at - gardening and cooking. As far as anything related to plants is concerned, I like to joke that I have a black thumb. Except it's not a joke.  I can get by just fine without ever having to look a plant in the eye (while it's still alive, anyway) but cooking is a whole other story. Not being able to cook means going hungry even though there are groceries in the kitchen. It means spending that last 200 bucks on pizza even though there's no plan for tomorrow. Because my blood sugar is plummeting right now , and planning for tomorrow is moot if I don't make it tomorrow.  Yep, that's dark. Back to cooking.  It isn't that I don't know how to cook. Technically I do. Technically, I can make rice, potatoes, pulses, an omlette, and fry pappadom. It's a paradoxical list, because I've never boiled an egg or cooked chicken.  But thanks to the auspicious influence of ADHD, I am a certifiably bad cook. I burn everything. Ri...

 I schedule these for months later knowing I'll have forgotten what I ever wrote. A double blind that protects me from the world and the world from me. 

  It's gonna break me, but that doesn't matter Another crack, watch me shatter, oh In a world where I don't belong Like a stranger, I'm moving on To a place where I wanted to be And call it home Wanna feel like I did before Feel the love, feel the pain and more But the weight keeps burying me And I feel so cold Opening wounds, breaking the bones Giving a life for selling a soul It's gonna break me, but that doesn't matter Another crack, watch me shatter I don't exist, I was never alive But now I know I'm ready to die In a world where I don't belong Like a wanderer, a vagabond Will my feet keep carrying me And bring me home? Will I breathe like I did before? Feel the hate but with no remorse? But the cracks still seem to appear And I can't control Cutting the nerves, sever the veins Under the weight, I'm taking the strain It's gonna break me, but that doesn't matter Another crack, watch me shatter I don't exist, I was never alive B...

 You'll never know just how angry I am Or maybe you do and that's why you're hiding Photo by Kağan

The atheist called out  To the god she knew didn't exist