vidasubliminal

Latest Posts by vidasubliminal

in addition to likes there should be a "noble&true" option to react with when the post is agreeable & wise

I still wasn't over you when I walked out those doors. It really is dawning on me, now, in my bed, in the dark. That today, this day, would be the last I would see you. I'll look for you in everyone I meet, it's a curse and a promise.

Watching my separated parents interact is so interesting. Do you still think about each other? I mean, there was a point in your life when you thought you'd be together forever, right?

She placebo on my effect til I feel like something happened

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

"to smithereens" is one of the worst things to be blown to. right up there with weezer

I yearn for a way to go back and redo, I yearn to have my foot in doors of timelines I'll never see. Times when we are together, where we love freely, loudly, we hold hands, and you aren't afraid to admit what we once had.

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???)

And I care so much when I write but suddenly i didn't care at the highschool when no one else would yell the cheers louder than me and I didn't care suddenly in the store joking loud with my sister and I didn't care when people thought i was weird because i hang out in the corner and wear dark clothes and makeup and like what I like and I don't care

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

Constant comparing and contrasting it's like every stranger I meet I look for you maybe they have the same colored eyes or a similar sounding voice and suddenly I'm in love until I remeber it's not you and again I'm in the back of the classroom and I know I'm not crazy the way you laughed and told jokes in my ear and we never paid attention to the teachers and you borrowed my pen and wore my braclets and smelt of my perfume and suddenly I'm back in my room and I know I'm not crazy the way you'd tell me what you like and what you want to do and suddenly I am crazy and we don't talk and you are a stranger the one I'm looking for you in and I don't know you at all

And maybe soulmates weren't meant to fall in love but rather to have a connection a silent one an eyes glancing across the room a quiet but so so deadly spark that poured upon with a single word of gasoline could explode maybe we were meant to walk by eachother and say sorry when our shoulders bumped and take a little bit of each other's souls with us when we left and look for each other in the eyes of every stranger we meet and think about the girl we bumped into

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

Trails like the moon when you drive in a car and trails like the substance of a snail and trails in my mind across the grooves and crooks of my soft brain and trails like the curves of her lips and trails like the path to the forest and into the forest and deep and never returning and trails like my non punctuated sentences

"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?"

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

I'm not made to sit at my desk and listen to someone else drawl on and on about something for 45 minutes

I'm not meant to sit in a room with 200 other kids and be forced to go back to our separate classrooms after 30 minutes of eating mystery food

I'm not meant to be forced to toss a football back and forth or run a track

I'm meant to read and write and sit in tree houses and wander in fields

I'm meant to wear flower crowns and eat berries and olives all day

I'm meant to befriend the trees and deers and paint with flowers

I'm not made to sit in school

In a place where my voice doesn't matter

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

"Sometimes, I wish I could lend you my voice

Lend you my heart

And lend you my choice"