Vidasubliminal - Weinen

lately i've been really grappling with the pain of not being able to do everything. of growing older and letting the window of time in which i COULD have done something lapse. i can no longer have started something before the age of 19. i can no longer claim to have loved something i start loving now since childhood. i can't dance for my career for the rest of my life, i have to choose whether i give up being a stem major for the rest of my life within the next two weeks, i am long past the point at which i could have done anything but the things i am currently involved in for all four years of college. i'm terrified that if i go back to things i used to do i wont be as good at them as i used to be. the time for that would have been the second i left. how different my life would have looked!! would i still have lived with the people i do now?? would i still have done the things i did this year? i'm grieving my inability to have a foot in the door of timelines i'm not in, of only having the feet i can stand on in this one. i don't know how to let an opportunity get by me. i cling to as many as i can get my hands on despite knowing i would enjoy each more if i spent less effort clinging to the lot; i mourn each that squirms its way out of my desperate grip, grieving one less egg in my nest. when i am gone what will remain??? what legacy will i leave behind???? i won't know; i'll be dead. so all that i can do is gather as much of life as i can in my grip, and every inch of it that escapes me is a little death of its own. HOW DO YOU COPE.

(may 18???)

I want to become a Mandela Effect. Delete my account, delete all posts. Have no trace I existed, but everyone swears I did

I'm not a poet I'm a girl with a lot on my mind and a girl who thinks about someone who doesn't think about me

I'm not a ninja I'm a girl who practices the art of kyukido and loves it but will never be better than her

I'm not a parent I'm a girl with a younger brother who's parents don't seem to know the difference between right and wrong anymore

I'm not smart I'm a girl who reads sometimes and does research for fun but I only have so much surface level knowledge to keep you curious for a little

I'm not funny I steal my jokes from kids in class and tv shows and YouTube videos and old cartoons

No I don't care to please you

I'll dye my hair

And peirce my face

And dress weird

And wear big glasses

Because why would I care

If you care

I'll say what I want

And write what I want

And listen to what I want

And believe in what I want

"In a small cafe at a location so remote it stands in the middle of the middle of nowhere, John - a man in a hurry - is at a crossroads. Intent only on refueling before moving along on his road trip, he finds sustenance of an entirely different kind. In addition to the specials of the day, the cafe menu lists the questions all diners are encouraged to consider:

Why are you here?

Do you fear death?

Are you fulfilled?"

I'll use the poems I wrote about you to fuel the bonfire I'm having with my friends and watch the ashes go up and fall back down on them like gray snow

The ashes of the words I wanted to say to you get caught in their hair and makes the smell linger even after the night has died down and the fire is out

I'll cut apart the braclets I made you and use them to make matching necklaces and earrings for my friends and get happy everytime they wear them

The beads I wanted to see on your wrists will shimmer on theirs like a little reminder

I'll play your favorite song for my friends the one you were always humming in class next to me and add it to our shared playlist

The song I'll now associate with my friends

And I'll cut out every part of you from my life and you'll never had existed

Everything that was yours is theirs because there is no more you

And the fleeting feeling I get from writing what's on my mind getting it out like a cleanse like I'm vomiting up all the bottled up things I wanted to say to you after being sick for so so long the coldness of your embrace or rather your lack thereof one will fade with the warm summer weather and the flowers blooming in my grandmother's backyard the wrinkles on her hands remind me of the passing time I'll never see the wrinkles on your hands someone else will I'll never see the ring on your hand but I hope it's glistening like the light in your eyes when you mention music