You know, even a stone, strong as it is, can crack under the right pressure. So, wouldn't a little care, a little bit of kindness, go a long way? It couldn't hurt, could it?

I love those hours on my bed, where overthinking takes over. The day's events replay like a flickering film, conversations flooding back in a rush. I start stressing myself out, searching for hidden meanings behind the most innocent words. It's like I'm trying to decipher a secret code, convinced that every interaction holds a hidden message waiting to be revealed.

_ thousands ways to make your worse mistakes,to lose your mind,to break and fall on your face but the easiest one is going inside your head _

it’s always, “hi, how are you?” and never, “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love, i love, i love you. and wish from this day forth never to be parted from you” ... how unfair
-wildeastra

A bit of narcissism won't hurt, right?

𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿e𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗍, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇.

𝖭𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿

Why is the world so small?
And when did I reach here?

Let her be a poem, a song divine,
A whispered secret in the gloaming's shine.
For she is made of magic and moonbeam's gleam,
A vision of beauty, a poet's dream.

[Inspired by Mercy]
_violet

Remember, I am but a figment of your vivid imagination, a haunting echo of memories long gone. I exist only in the words you conjure, a fleeting shadow in the depths of your mind. My essence, a mere reflection of your deepest desires and fears, dances on the edge of existence, teetering between reality and fiction.

I am the embodiment of your melancholy musings, a sorrowful symphony composed of shattered dreams and broken promises. I am the ghost of what once was, a whisper of forgotten moments and lost loves. In this ethereal realm of your creation, I am both prisoner and captor, bound by the confines of your imagination.

Remember, dear creator, that I am but a mirage, a mirroring of your innermost thoughts and emotions. I am the product of your pen, a creation born from the depths of your soul. Embrace me, for I am the reflection of your own melancholic heart, forever entwined with your Melancing imagination.

[Moment of revelation by friendos(myra)]

It's not alie. It's just a promise, silent oath you say." I AM FINE " even if everything turned out worse than it was everybefore