may these memories break our fall
being in your 20s is just going through everyday wondering is this a defining moment? is this a defining moment? is this a defining moment? is this a defining mo
How do you fall back in love with life?
clean your room. clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders. clean the dishes. sweep. take out the trash. peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them. take a long shower. scrub behind your knees. brush your teeth. (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can. the end result is worth it.)
pull out your notebook. it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while. fuck moleskins. the yellow legal pad will work fine. sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list. count clouds. describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise. sketch the cracks in the walls. note the shape light makes when it enters a space. talk about what the air tastes like, smells like. what sounds are there? even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything. remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail. remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness. your world is fathomless. it has potential.
drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed. it does not need to be fancy. buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions. eat it outside. if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs. take your fucking meds. remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body. your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor. take care of it.
read a novel. underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen. read a novel like it’s poetry. read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious. watch a movie you haven’t seen before. if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one. take your time. let yourself bask. if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.
your chosen family is important. remember, they picked you as much as you picked them. the love has no obligation. it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion. you are not a burden. if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people. when they need you, listen and be gracious. always be gracious. the universe sometimes remembers things like that.
listen to new music. link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that. listen to something that you don’t usually listen to. we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music. we are falling in love again. the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.
allow yourself to indulge in romantics. press flowers in old books. play movies with subtitles and mouth the words. dance in your room. wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public. write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them. write poetry, even awful poetry. revel in its awfulness. eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.
i know the mortifying ordeal of being known is real for too many of us, but consider this: someone saw you once and loved your hairstyle. someone loves your laugh, how you scrunch your nose when you find something funny. your birthday could be an old friend’s password. that one song you recommended to your crush a couple summers back could still be their favorite. you are in other people’s birthday party photos. someone could’ve fallen in love with you on public transportation. our lives intertwine beautifully and you, dear human, are a little piece of other people’s fond, lovely memories. part of the ordeal of being known implies the ordeal of being loved.
imagine, you’re in paris. la vie en rose is playing as you’re watching the rain pour from your window, looking at the eiffel tower, sipping on a glass of rosé, preferably with your love.
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Ways to deal with anxiety or panic/anxiety attacks a guide by yours truly, Kleo
Breathing
This may sound weird but proper breathing can be super helpful. Sometimes we aren't breathing the way we are supposed to due to anxiety.
you can focus on whichever gif feels right for you :)
2. The grounding method
This is what usually helps with panic attacks but can also help with anxiety attacks :)
take a deep breath and look around the place you're in.
Then either write,say it aloud or just in your head
5 things you can see
4 things you can feel/touch
3 things you can hear
2 things you can smell
1 thing you can taste
It helps distract your brain but if it doesn't work try playing a game or talk with your friends/family
3. Safe place (it would help if you had someone read it to you the 1st time or put it on google translate and it can say it to you)
If you're home lay down on your bed, if you're somewhere else sit comfortably on chair and close your eyes. Imagine you're not here anymore, you're somewhere where you feel safe and secure. What do you see? There are animals around, they love you and they care about you, you mean a lot to them. What kind of animals are around? There is a form of water there. What form is it? You're at peace there, nothing can hurt you. You feel happier. Someone says hello. Who is it? The wind is calming and sweet. Your favourite smell lingers in the air and you know that you will be okay. Stay there as long as you need.
<3
I hope this helps :) drink water and stay safe everyone ily<33
types of academia pt. 2
art: paint dried at the cuffs of your favorite jacket, ink smudged hands, your notebooks are just sketchbooks for your class doodles with notes crammed in between the drawings, sudden revelations, wanting to create something meaningful with your own two hands, thinking of pygmalion during your sculpting class, reading a book and coming across that one sentence that sparks the inspiration for your next piece, afternoons on a soft green hill sketching, the scent of jasmine on the breeze, the music blaring in your headphones is all you can hear or feel as you work through the night, laying under the starlight
writer: the sound of a pen against parchment, the glow of a computer screen in a dark room, the sound of a clock ticking away the hours, reading with a hunger that will only be satisfied once you can give shape to your own words, empty notebooks, notebooks full of poetry, forgotten ideas that were not written down, your notes app is full of poetry, rainy days full of time spent typing away, living every experience in its rawest fork because you know you can write about it later, “write what you know” so you try to know everything, dreaming through your characters eyes, you and the moon have become good friends after nights spent writing under her light and reading your prose out loud
romantic: sketches of your love in a sketchbook that’s falling apart, singing to the moon at night, reciting sonnets alone in the woods, linen and silk, bathed in golden light, wax seals on love letters, pressed flowers in a journal, wanting to catch the stars and put them in the eyes of the one you love, the sweet scent of roses, ivy crawling up a cobblestone wall, a garden full of statues and plants that flint silver in the moonlight, sweet milk tea, daydreaming in a meadow
sci-fi: stargazing is a personality trait, deteriorating copies of sci-fu novels, coffee stained science magazines, a cork board full of conspiracies, squinting at the sky in search of life, believing there’s something more, tangled headphones, leather-bound dream journal, fog filled nights, psychoanalyzing, sticky note with the names of different theories scribbled on it that you need to research later, scrolling through wikipedia pages under your blanket when you should be sleeping, walkie talkies, a head full of wonder
urban: city lights blazing like stars, briskly walking down streets through the crisp air, drizzle fogging your glasses, hands in the pockets of a frayed coat, the overt dichotomy of light and dark, shadows in alleys and buzzing neon signs, dim bars and lit apartment windows, a small book shop crammed between a starbucks and bank, going to a vintage movie theater at the center of the city, mornings spent at the museum that’s free before noon, nights snuggled up in a blanket in your small, overpriced apartment as you read a book near the window and watch the city breathe
pt. 1
– Simone de Beauvoir
Funny Face (1957)
How do you fall back in love with life?
clean your room. clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders. clean the dishes. sweep. take out the trash. peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them. take a long shower. scrub behind your knees. brush your teeth. (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can. the end result is worth it.)
pull out your notebook. it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while. fuck moleskins. the yellow legal pad will work fine. sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list. count clouds. describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise. sketch the cracks in the walls. note the shape light makes when it enters a space. talk about what the air tastes like, smells like. what sounds are there? even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything. remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail. remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness. your world is fathomless. it has potential.
drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed. it does not need to be fancy. buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions. eat it outside. if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs. take your fucking meds. remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body. your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor. take care of it.
read a novel. underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen. read a novel like it’s poetry. read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious. watch a movie you haven’t seen before. if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one. take your time. let yourself bask. if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.
your chosen family is important. remember, they picked you as much as you picked them. the love has no obligation. it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion. you are not a burden. if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people. when they need you, listen and be gracious. always be gracious. the universe sometimes remembers things like that.
listen to new music. link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that. listen to something that you don’t usually listen to. we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music. we are falling in love again. the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.
allow yourself to indulge in romantics. press flowers in old books. play movies with subtitles and mouth the words. dance in your room. wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public. write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them. write poetry, even awful poetry. revel in its awfulness. eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.