The body, in its primal wisdom, recognizes the subtle shifts in the tectonic plates of the soul, sensing the inevitable rupture before the conscious mind can grasp its implications. To ignore these internal warnings, to romanticize the signs of impending disaster, clinging to the illusion of calm even as the winds begin to tear everything asunder is crazzy.... You aint feeling butterflies it's just a mimic or exacerbate of that feeling.
We've been conditioned to equate busyness with worth, and anxiety with productivity. We tell ourselves that if we're not constantly striving, constantly juggling a million responsibilities, then we're somehow failing. So, what happens when the pressure valve is released? What happens when the deadlines evaporate, the expectations fade, and the to-do list shrinks to nothing?
That's when the true terror begins: the confrontation with our own minds. Without the external pressure, the internal void becomes deafening. We discover that we've been using stress as a distraction, a way to avoid facing uncomfortable truths about ourselves – our fears, our insecurities, our lack of direction.
The silence is terrifying because it forces us to ask the big questions: Who am I without my accomplishments? What do I actually want? What if I'm not as capable, as driven, as special as I thought I was? It's easier to cling to the familiar discomfort of stress than to navigate the uncharted territory of genuine freedom.
That's when the true terror begins: the confrontation with our own minds. Without the external pressure, the internal void becomes deafening. We discover that we've been using stress as a distraction, a way to avoid facing uncomfortable truths about ourselves – our fears, our insecurities, our lack of direction.
The silence is terrifying because it forces us to ask the big questions: Who am I without my accomplishments? What do I actually want? What if I'm not as capable, as driven, as special as I thought I was? It's easier to cling to the familiar discomfort of stress than to navigate the uncharted territory of genuine freedom.
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"Shakespeare and Dostoevsky leave you with an insufferable regret: for having been neither a saint nor a criminal, the two best forms of self - destruction."
-Emil Cioran, excerpt from Tears and Saints.
-Emil Cioran, excerpt from Tears and Saints.
It's funny, isn't it? We think we 'know' a story after we've read it once. But the truth is, every time you revisit a book, it's like meeting a friend you haven't seen in years. You've both changed, and you experience the conversation in a completely new way.
That's why I can't bear to get rid of books. Whether they're taking up physical space on my shelves or digital space on my phone, they're non-negotiable. I'd happily Marie Kondo my entire life, but the books stay. They're not just stories; they're markers of who I was when I first read them, and who I've become since.
And it's true, the second (or third, or tenth) time around, you start to notice things you completely missed before. Side characters suddenly become more interesting, subtle clues reveal themselves, and entire themes emerge that were hidden in plain sight. It's like the book is a living thing, constantly evolving along with you.
It's as if there is so many things to learn,relearn, and unlearn.
That's why I can't bear to get rid of books. Whether they're taking up physical space on my shelves or digital space on my phone, they're non-negotiable. I'd happily Marie Kondo my entire life, but the books stay. They're not just stories; they're markers of who I was when I first read them, and who I've become since.
And it's true, the second (or third, or tenth) time around, you start to notice things you completely missed before. Side characters suddenly become more interesting, subtle clues reveal themselves, and entire themes emerge that were hidden in plain sight. It's like the book is a living thing, constantly evolving along with you.
It's as if there is so many things to learn,relearn, and unlearn.
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I should stop reading soul crashing, devastating, frustrating,n hope snatching books...now i need to go and see ppl being Munchy!
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when the melancholy and yearning hit you while you're in the middle of studying(please, please stay within the schedule. You can't and could not do this to meeeeeee~)
Forwarded from Unresolved Issues
What this weekend has made me realise is that being active is not for me. My social (and physical) battery runs out wayyy faster then I expected. I'll take my life stagnant, indoors and with a side of bedrotting. Please and thank you.
I could get over you, sure. I mean, emotionally detaching isn't impossible. But think of the ART! The raw, agonizing, self-pitying ballad I'd have to abandon! The tortured poetry I'd never write!
You're basically my muse, albeit a muse that makes me want to punch a wall. But still, art! It's a burden, really. I'm sacrificing my happiness for the sake of future generations who will weep over the sheer brilliance of my (completelyt fictionalized) heartbreak.
So, yeah, getting over you would be easier. But where's the drama? The angst? The potential for a platinum album? Consider yourself a patron of the arts. You're not just breaking my heart, you're funding my creativity. You should be getting a tax write-off for this, honestly.
You're basically my muse, albeit a muse that makes me want to punch a wall. But still, art! It's a burden, really. I'm sacrificing my happiness for the sake of future generations who will weep over the sheer brilliance of my (completelyt fictionalized) heartbreak.
So, yeah, getting over you would be easier. But where's the drama? The angst? The potential for a platinum album? Consider yourself a patron of the arts. You're not just breaking my heart, you're funding my creativity. You should be getting a tax write-off for this, honestly.
As someone who falls in love with flaws, arent you way too much obsessed with perfection?
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