(27) handpicked: TheEmptyChest

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:iconhello1plz::iconhello2plz: 
how are you all doing today? 
:bulletblue: here is a journal page for pieces of art that might inspire you the way they inspire me. 
 thank you for taking the time to bask in their beauty. 
handpicked updated version by wispy-blue

QuirkyCuriousBex
:iconquirkycuriousbex:

If I Could Send Post-It Notes Back in Timei.
No matter how many times the world
says to “be yourself”
it will never accept you
when you are.
ii.
You’re on your own. Always.
iii.
Admit to yourself that you lie.
You don’t have to make it
a point of conversation with others
because most will not understand
nor love you regardless,
even though they do it too,
but admitting it to yourself
opens the door for growth and that
is very important.
iv.
 
There will be a boy who you find
sitting next to you in a library one day
and he’ll eventually ask you to do something.
Say no.
v.
The road to hell may be paved with good intentions
but remember
it’s better to do the wrong thing
than to do the right thing with your heart
not in the right place.
vi.
Learn to laugh more.
Life is much more bearable.
vii.
Don’t blame society for all your problems.
viii.
Don’t blame yourself for all your problems.
ix.
Don’t apologize for everything.
This is neither attractive nor healthy;
it makes you
Post-It Notes to Send Back in Time (part 2)i.
You own your own body.
Your life is yours.
And don’t let
anyone
ever
tell you otherwise.
ii.
It’s okay to believe in God.
It’s okay not to.
And it’s okay to go back and forth
between the two
because no god worth believing in
would punish you
for doubt or disbelief.
iii.
Learn how to take a compliment.
iv.
Invisibility isn’t so bad.
When people notice you
they scrutinize you.
If they don’t see you
you have ultimate freedom.
So don’t be afraid to hide in that corner.
Own that corner.  It’s yours.
v.
Pay no heed to art snobs.
vi.
Don’t be an art snob yourself.
vii.
Remember how you were told
that every time you “sinned” it was
equivalent to crucifying Jesus
all over again
so every mistake you made
no matter how small
made you feel like you’d killed someone?
Yeah. That was bullshit.
viii.
It’s okay to not have a boyfriend.
It’s okay to not want one.
ix.
Hate is not the problem,
it’s what you h

I'm not in, please leave a messageI'm not in my body today
but floating on the ceiling
watching as I go about my
daily routine, knowing
I'm real but feeling
maybe I'm not-
maybe all this familiarity
is an illusion
and at any moment
I'll wake up to find myself
plugged into the Matrix
or skipping down the yellow brick road
in the Wonderful World of Oz,
a heroine destined for great things-
destined to find her way back home.
Maybe it's not the world
that's the illusion but me-
maybe this body I have,
brown stringy hair, blue eyes, bitten fingernails,
this awkward body
that fidgets and isn't proportioned right
is a prison
and I'm really a soul
meant to swirl
free.
DriftingSometimes we just don't
wake up soon enough
and we're left dreaming
by ourselves
with no one to shake us,
and when we do awaken
everyone is gone
and we're alone and empty,
wondering what we did wrong
and if it's too late to fix it.
And we scramble to our feet
like confused animals
and call out for help,
but all we hear in return
are echoes—
echoes and a voice inside
our heads saying, "You blew
it. You blew it and there's
no going back."
And we wonder if we should
even try anymore;
we wonder if maybe we should
just lie back down,
say "Oh well, I tried"
and drift off.
And maybe that was the plan
for us all along—maybe
we were never meant
to stay awake;
maybe we woke up for
a short moment only to learn
that this world
needs dreamers.

AdultsI envy those people
who leave home
at eighteen
and live like twenty-five year olds,
looking out for themselves
like folks did in the good ol’ days,
drinking whiskey straight,
driving all night with no limits,
loving and fucking without apology,
never having to remind someone
that they’re old enough—
Goddamnit, they’re old enough
and if they’re not cut loose
they’ll suffocate to death
without ever having breathed
on their own.
The Crime of Self-PityIt is not a crime
to feel self-pity once in a while.
There is nothing inherently
weak or wrong with curling up,
swathed in darkness’ womb,
and crying for yourself.
The notion that where you are
is solely the fault of your frailties
is nothing more than the decree
of an apathetic world that
would tell a grieving mother
it was God’s will.
“Stay strong,” we preach.
“You deserve to be happy, and loved.”
But strength has many meanings
and life does not care what you deserve.
It’ll leave you
defeated and bleeding
on your battlefield,
slithering through mud in the rain,
with no hand to hold
or miracles to occur
or ear to hear you plead for
one more chance—just one more
—because you don’t deserve this
and it hurts
and you want to go back
to the womb where you weren’t
expected to do anything
but just be,
where you had nothing to prove
and you were enough
the way you were,
curled and swathed in the dark.

How To Raise A BorderlineDon’t recognize your child’s needs,
or at the very least see them as
secondary to your own.
Ignore your child’s tears;
tell them to buck up.
Better yet,
tell them if they don’t stop crying
you’ll give them something to cry about.
That outta teach ’em.
Weigh them down with adult demands.
Expect them to cook dinner
at nine years old
because you’ll be home late.
Force them to grow up too fast,
or don’t allow them to grow up at all
because in a child’s dependent role
is where you can control them.
Don’t be consistent,
with anything.
Change your values like you change your sex partners.
Swear off drinking one day only to get a DUI the next.
And when you discipline
do so arbitrarily and explosively;
base it on your feelings rather than your child’s actions.
When they spill their drink on the floor
and look to you for a reaction,
don’t tell them, “It’s alright, honey, it was just an accident.”
Yell at th
When they say something's wrong with youI’m going to be shamelessly honest
and say the more I see of life
the less I think it’s worth living,
because let’s face it,
it doesn’t truly get better
it just changes;
suffering and loss
are hurdles on a never-ending
obstacle course
that you’re expected to run
for the rest of your life.
And God help you
if you don’t want to run it
because that means something's wrong with you.
That means you’re crazy.
I’m going to be fearless
and say something that no one wants
to hear, or is likely to believe:
the “right to life” is a myth,
because to have a right
is to have a choice
and life is an obligation.
To want to end it
means you need “help”—
either in the form of a crucified savior
or an expert with a Ph.D. and an eagerness
to label you.
All it really means is that you
don’t want to run that damn obstacle course,
and you shouldn’t have to
because you were never given a choice
from the beginning,



Standing Tall by QuirkyCuriousBex


she speaks of truths and writes beautifully in memory of a cut-out heart.
and lately i'm realizing i need to visit her gallery
more often than i already do because those truths resonate with me.
:iconflowerheartplz:
:bulletblue: previous feature:
(26) handpicked: nawkaman
:bulletblue: for your most :+fav: pieces of art, write me a note or link me to your own creations.
i might have been missing out on them and i would appreciate that you share them with me.

© 2015 - 2024 wispy-blue
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Mrs-Freestar-Bul's avatar
So excited to read her work 
:reading: