Latest Posts by fallingsnowmissingdarling - Page 10
having so much love in your heart is beautiful and amazing right up until you’re alone in your bedroom clutching at your chest and whimpering like a wounded dog
bruh
something i wish i had realized earlier: you can write poems on the same subject more than once. you can write, paint, draw the same thing over and over if you want to. you can spend your whole life making art about oranges. i think i always felt this pressure to get it right the first time like i couldn’t go back and use that inspiration again. but you can. you can go back and revisit it. you can pick up the conversation again and again if you have more to say.
Sometimes it hits me that there’s just no way to avoid the pain of the ending of relationships. I have tried and failed to just not make connections with the people around me. I’ve experienced, according to my therapist and Google statistics, more than the average amount of deaths-of-close-loved-ones, abuse, shunning, and whatnot. Makes sense. But sometimes I look at new friends, old friends, potential futures, and all I can see is me sitting on my bathroom floor the night after my fiancé died, feeling so much pain I didn’t know if I would ever come out the other side of it at all. And I think, “that’s the price of this. That’s what you know this will end in, and you chose it anyway.” And as inspiring as that is (like: testament to the power of love that I’d choose it even when it’s so painful), it’s also just exhausting. Like, I’ve been through the funerals, and the angry goodbyes, and the email goodbyes, and the crying at the airport, and the sort-of-happy-crying over new babies and marriages, and the last outings with close friends before moving away, and the last Sundays before leaving churches, and the thought of doing it all again, worth it or not, is exhausting. It’s just exhausting. Like how grandparents just aren’t able to raise babies because they’ve already done it and they’re old and retired and tired now. That’s how I feel. I’m tired.
And yet
If I bump into your cart at the supermarket, I’m going to laugh and apologize and tell you I like your sweater and if you’re friendly and not on a tight schedule that day you might smile and strike up a conversation, and we might share a love of some item in both of our baskets and I’ll offer you a recipe that uses it and then two years later I’m texting you to see if you want to meet up for coffee at our usual spot and at that point I care about you and you care about me and we’re friends and if you tell me you have terminal cancer I’ll be fucking devastated.
There’s no way to avoid these things. There’s no way to meet a quota. As long as I’m alive, my heart is always at risk of shattering into a billion tiny aching pieces from one phone call, one conversation, one funeral. I love the ones I love now, and I choose love in my life. And I’m tired.
If u want to write a story about a character that's just you but hotter with a dark twisted backstory and magical powers and a pet falcon or something, I think u should just go ahead and do that. Who's gonna stop you? The government?? Fuck the police.
bruh
“I’m trying to focus.”
it's always funny when you see stuff that is so obviously preemptively written to ward off Posting. the most overt manifestation is marvelesque lampshading of cliches ("hey isn't it stupid that we were saved at the last minute?") but there's other types of it. there's writing that addresses criticism in-text (Marvel Lady #24 owning a hater who says that Marvel Lady #24 is antifeminist) or fan responses like shipping (that one plotline in bbc sherlock that shows moriarty/sherlock shippers as weirdos nobody likes) or even stuff like worrying the reader won't understand the characters (EVERY instance of characters using therapyspeak in a story.)
to the insecure artist, the shadow of the Poster looms large over them. they can never mentally escape the fear that someone, somewhere, may be making memes about how their art sucks. and you know what? that's just beautiful
