Story Personal Diary + Introduction

[fluorescentpearl]

Raindrops and thunderstorms, the chilling breeze once a door is cracked open, cool skin surfaces that exhale warmth from within

The lingering softness of a forehead kiss, a whispered name which only your ears can hear, the lovely open secret hidden among the chaos of this world.. There is something wonderful to returning to your roots, mine of which are so hastily fastened to an existence of pious gentility, I feel as though every man I might give my heart to will have to wield the hands of a father, as I am far too fragile to be treated as a superior, as an equal for lack of better terms.. A little lady in a loving cage is what I enjoy viewing myself as, to be adored and viewed in endearment, as I dote and adore him in return

There's such a beauty in the ephemeral, perhaps a beauty I see out of self-soothing hypocrisy, despising myself for my weakness yet adoring the agonizing minute life of a butterfly, of a moth, the everchanging shape of a wave, the darkness that escapes every morning at dawn, how each breath is entirely different, how each human that's walked this earth has bled and thought and loved and it is all left in the wind whilst their corpses vanish and rot

The flicker of a candle, smoke's artistic shapes, the music of nature, it is all so beautiful, and yet why do I not wish to live to stay in it?

Perhaps because all of it is worthless in the eyes of the modern man, the modern man has no place for feeling and ephemeral beauties, for languid monotony and gentle desires, it is all rushed, all mudded up into a mess that I cannot stand to see, not with eyes but with heart.. Perhaps that is why I cannot bear to live, the cold iron world, the steel prison we have placed ourselves in..
Fragile as I am, can I truly resist in such a harsh box? It slits my soft skin, it rubs against my hair, there is no way that I can survive in it for longer, a pearl inside a thorn shell is how I feel
Perhaps it will smoothen me into a beauty, or perhaps it will grind me to dust
I am unsure, once again it's all I can say
It is beautiful, insignificant in the face of technology, the arts are being forgotten, the tenderness is being replaced, it is all becoming meaningless.. I can only hope for salvation, a disaster to rid the world of it's miraculously horrific designs, return it to how it used to be, word spoken, affection felt, art inspired, life with a meaning, not hidden behind a metallic glass mirror in which we all stare at hypnotized and amazed as our minds degrade and falter
I feel weakness is a gift, mine is at least, I wish it soothed and cared for, I wished to be nestled and used and loved
My rant for today is done

 

[saaremaa]

Reading your post made me shed a tear, I'm so sorry

I'm from North Europe too! if u want we could talk?

 

[fluorescentpearl]

Reading your post made me shed a tear, I'm so sorry

I'm from North Europe too! if u want we could talk?

That's so sweet! Fellow Estonian I take it? Given the username haha

 

[saaremaa]

That's so sweet! Fellow Estonian I take it? Given the username haha

Yeah, from Keila, I didn't expect to find someone from Estonia here :>

I was born in Saaremaa though!

 

[fluorescentpearl]

Yeah, from Keila, I didn't expect to find someone from Estonia here :>

I was born in Saaremaa though!

That's so cool!! You should get a bit more active around so we can dm, I'm from raasiku vald! Not gonna say the exact village though haha, I was born in Tallinn.

Other stuff
I'm so tired of my wishes and hopes for the future and I wish they would simply leave so I could die in peace..

I don't want to have something this fleeting and unlikely and only partially enjoyable to be what keeps me going in this state of half life half death

I just want to either live, or die, I don't want to be this way, I wish I could settle on one single thing,I don't want to tip toe the line anymore

Waking up in the morning next to him, hearing his heart beat beside my ear, tracing circles and words on his chest with my fingertips, all these images sound so sweet, it all seems so lovely..

Preparing dinner and he comes up behind me, kissing my temple and letting me know some random thing that came to mind, or going for picnics in the weekends and enjoying nature and rambling for hours and hours about everything and yet nothing at all

And then it returns to me.. The planet's decay, global warming, the economies crashing, taxes, our salaries being used to fund the horrid crimes of our governments, having to work every day and worry about putting food on the table, having to be social knowing that we are- as it so feels -alone in this world with our view and our knowledge and our feelings..

I always knew I wouldn't survive past 18, here I find myself at 21, doubting my own age.. Has it truly been that little? I feel as though I'm an old woman with everything I've been through, I try to relate with my peers, and nothing sticks.. I feel so different from them all, how can I live in a world where I don't belong?

And maybe I can find belonging with him, but can I? I try to trust in love and yet people leave, people change their minds, love is so weak and yet we put on it's shoulders the responsibility to fix and carry this life..

I'm exhausted, I'm tired of this disorder, of this brain, of this heart, of it all, can he really make it more bearable? Is there hope left for me?

I find myself feeling horribly selfish at the words in my heart, "I don't want it if it's not with him"

My heart and mind are at constant war, worries and paranoid ideations and anxieties and hopes and deaths.. "He will leave he will stay you will live you will die he will realize how boring you are he loves you so much he despises you in truth you are lovely you are hateful you can do it but you don't want to, but you'll find a way, but you never will"

I wish I was a simpler being

I wish I could make it better

I truly do wish that once I visit I will find some inspiration to stay alive if even just a bit longer, I wish it and I hope for it.. Yet when your last hope is a man there is no way to know, I suppose, a man could always leave, a man could always dislike you, a man could always do anything at all

I wish, I hope

We will see

I find myself wishing I had died on the sixth so I would not have to worry of this, yet at the same time, in this short time I've experienced the first ever happiness of my life albeit in small bouts which left soon swallowed by the void of my soul

So it's good that I'm alive, I suppose, I suppose it's worth it, to not be dead.. Yet if I was dead I wouldn't know of this, or care, or miss it.. It's complicated

I wish for many things and none of them align

 

[saaremaa]

That's so cool!! You should get a bit more active around so we can dm, I'm from raasiku vald! Not gonna say the exact village though haha, I was born in Tallinn.

Other stuff
I'm so tired of my wishes and hopes for the future and I wish they would simply leave so I could die in peace..

I don't want to have something this fleeting and unlikely and only partially enjoyable to be what keeps me going in this state of half life half death

I just want to either live, or die, I don't want to be this way, I wish I could settle on one single thing,I don't want to tip toe the line anymore

Waking up in the morning next to him, hearing his heart beat beside my ear, tracing circles and words on his chest with my fingertips, all these images sound so sweet, it all seems so lovely..

Preparing dinner and he comes up behind me, kissing my temple and letting me know some random thing that came to mind, or going for picnics in the weekends and enjoying nature and rambling for hours and hours about everything and yet nothing at all

And then it returns to me.. The planet's decay, global warming, the economies crashing, taxes, our salaries being used to fund the horrid crimes of our governments, having to work every day and worry about putting food on the table, having to be social knowing that we are- as it so feels -alone in this world with our view and our knowledge and our feelings..

I always knew I wouldn't survive past 18, here I find myself at 21, doubting my own age.. Has it truly been that little? I feel as though I'm an old woman with everything I've been through, I try to relate with my peers, and nothing sticks.. I feel so different from them all, how can I live in a world where I don't belong?

And maybe I can find belonging with him, but can I? I try to trust in love and yet people leave, people change their minds, love is so weak and yet we put on it's shoulders the responsibility to fix and carry this life..

I'm exhausted, I'm tired of this disorder, of this brain, of this heart, of it all, can he really make it more bearable? Is there hope left for me?

I find myself feeling horribly selfish at the words in my heart, "I don't want it if it's not with him"

My heart and mind are at constant war, worries and paranoid ideations and anxieties and hopes and deaths.. "He will leave he will stay you will live you will die he will realize how boring you are he loves you so much he despises you in truth you are lovely you are hateful you can do it but you don't want to, but you'll find a way, but you never will"

I wish I was a simpler being

I wish I could make it better

I truly do wish that once I visit I will find some inspiration to stay alive if even just a bit longer, I wish it and I hope for it.. Yet when your last hope is a man there is no way to know, I suppose, a man could always leave, a man could always dislike you, a man could always do anything at all

I wish, I hope

We will see

I find myself wishing I had died on the sixth so I would not have to worry of this, yet at the same time, in this short time I've experienced the first ever happiness of my life albeit in small bouts which left soon swallowed by the void of my soul

So it's good that I'm alive, I suppose, I suppose it's worth it, to not be dead.. Yet if I was dead I wouldn't know of this, or care, or miss it.. It's complicated

I wish for many things and none of them align

Oookayyy where do u wish to dm ? I don't see an option here anywhere :)

 

[fluorescentpearl]

Oookayyy where do u wish to dm ? I don't see an option here anywhere :)

The option shows up when you're active for a while thats why I recommended to be a bit more active around the forum!

 

[saaremaa]

The option shows up when you're active for a while thats why I recommended to be a bit more active around the forum!

Ooh okay, my bad,

Oeh its the second day of work and I'm already so tired, I would rather just stay home, 10 hr work shifts, my legs just get destroyed haha
but 20k steps I end up getting done,

 

[fluorescentpearl]

Mary was a different girl
Had a thing for astronauts
Mary was the type of girl
She always liked to play a lot
Mary was a holy girl
Father whet her appetite
Mary was the type of girl
She always liked to fall apart
Mary was an acrobat
But still she couldn't seem to breathe
Mary was becoming everything she didn't want to be
Mary would hallucinate
And see the sky upon the wall
Mary was the type of girl
She always liked to fly
Tell me did you see her face
Tell me did you smell her taste
Tell me what's the difference
Don't they all just look the same inside?
Buddha for Mary, here it comes


Weird how this song has consistently been the one thing I can relate to most, besides Coraline from Måneskin, not in the sense that its the most me thing ever written but in the sense that no matter what I go through and what happens in my life I always end up returning to it and relating to it.. It never becomes unrelatable, it always hits even harder, or becomes more accurate

 

[fluorescentpearl]

I love him, I love him, I love him
I keep imagining his eyes looking at me with love, not through a cold picture, through warm real life, how will he gaze upon me?
It's all so exciting almost, I feel like a little girl whispering of her crush to her toys, all this sweet uncertainty is entirely different to the doom of the future
How will he look at me? How will his hand feel in mine? How will his breath sound in person? How will I react to him.. How will he react to me? How will it feel to hug him? Will it be warm, will it be comfy? Will it feel like a home I never knew? How does his skin feel under my fingers? How will our conversations flow, how will I find the courage to look at him?
It's all so unsure, it's all so sweet to imagine, I don't even care for the ending, I wonder what it will feel in the moment
Will I want to live one more day just to wake up by his side?
What does his skin smell like, what will he think of my skin?

Im tired of people lying to me, on the off chance I get compliments, "you look like a doll" "you're as ethereal as a Victorian painting", I'm not, I'm not, I'm hideous
It's all done on purpose isn't it? Pointing the finger to laugh at me when I turn around, I'm unlovable, no one who sees my face and corpse will ever truly love me, or even like what I look like, when my skin stretches into a smile I look like a monster from nightmares
I'm disgusting. God I'm disgusting, I'm hideous, why was I born looking this way
Why do they lie? Just be honest, just tell me I'm ugly, if you feel guilty just say I am average, don't you dare call me pretty, I beg
There's nothing pretty of me
If a doll, I am a molded abandoned ragdoll
If a painting, I am a picture painted of a decaying woman with tuberculosis
If an angel, I am a disfigured infant adorning the guilt-ridden walls of a church
Nothing about me is beautiful, I can't not cry when I think of what he will think of me when he knows how bad I look, I feel disgusting
When called pretty it is used as a weapon, I stand there in the changing room, my body scrutinized as you poke and prod, as you mutter and spit out compliments with the same eyes of a dreadful Viper
Complimenting me serves only as a vessel to carry out into me denying it, doesn't it? Only for me to reply you are beautiful, that I'm nothing at all, that I am hideous, that you're perfect
"You are so small and delicate, your body reminds me of broken Greek statues, you're just so pretty, your face is so youthful and childish, you're just a doll. A doll. Look at yourself, look at me, you're so perfect, you're so small and pretty, you're so beautiful, you're so perfect, look at how much that dress suits you, you're so beautiful, when I wear it I'm hideous, you're so pretty, everything about you is pretty, of course men like you, of course you don't have to try like I do, of course you're perfect you don't struggle you're just a perfect little virginal angel aren't you you're just so perfect"
If you see me as pretty I wish to destroy myself until no one will see any beauty anymore, I slash and tear at my skin and scratch at my body and I kill myself every day I die every day, in spirit I do, I dig my nails into my scalp and bury myself in a hole and despise myself for all I am
Why am I not like Them?
Why am I a virgin, why am I shy, why am I not outgoing, why do I freeze up when I'm anxious, why do I forget how to speak, why do I cry, why do I look Cute and not Hot
Why would any man even want a cute thing rather than a hot one everyone can praise him over
Why? Why?
Will anyone ever love me for my innocence and cuteness rather than what I could be, I can be attractive, I can try, I can return to it, I can pound my face in with makeup.. Layer masks over masks, I can dye my hair, I can corset myself, I can wear the pushup bras, I can do sex work, I can get lip fillers, I can get cheek fat removal, I can become an experienced vixen, they would love it, the world would love me, why do I keep feeling it, why am I so dependant on people?
What a stupid question, I am ill, it's in the name of my heaviest disorder, Dependant Personality, it doesn't leave, meds don't fix it, all I can do is find someone to depend on, "hope you find someone, because you can't be fixed", how can I find anyone when nothing of me is lovable, why does he even like me? How soon until he realizes I'm filth
How soon until he bores of me, how soon until he can't even look at me anymore? How soon until he hates me, he truly, deeply and fully despises me? How soon, how long do I have left to be loved, me as I am, a filthy parasite, mudded in my innocence, fragile and weak and pathetic and useless, how long do I have left?
I wish I could stop feeling this way
I wish I had a magical clock which would gently tell me it likes things about me, yet I'm sure even it would begin to despise me within a week, within a month
Everything I touch is frozen and cracks
Why? Why was I made this way, why can I not be just like them, why? Why can't I be like anyone else
Will I ever really be loved for what I am, not in spite of it? It feels pathetic to hope to be told it all knowing I would still not believe it.