Vent Writing - Blog Posts

I can't fall in love with myself, it will only hurt and I can again do nothing about it...

I write all the things I don't have the courage to say out loud.

Readers: So do you sneak pieces of your personal experiences into your writing?

Authors: Whaaaaat? Pfft, nah definitely not me…. *Proceeds to incorporate their life stories into their work*

Idk. . .

Just needed comfort from a character cause I don't know who else to go to right now.

Be Held

"...Sorry babe." She mumbled

"Hm? For what, Alex?" Gi-Hun asked, sitting down next to her

"...I don't know. I've just felt so pressured and worthless... I hate this so much..." She hugged herself

"Oh, babe... it's gonna be okay... if you need a break from everything, we can just sit and have an us day..."

"...Really?.." She choked back a sob

"Whatever you go through, we go through." He squeezes her hand. "Those were in my vows, no?"

She sniffed and hugged him. "Dammit..."

"You're okay, princess... I'm right here. It's gonna be okay. You're so strong..."

"I really do love your hugs... I just..." she sighed shakily "I wanna be held... please?.."

"Could never keep my hands off you anyway, love." He kissed her head

"Thank you..." she whispered, nuzzling into his chest

"I love you..."

...

"I love you too..." she answered finally

I who stands by Love's edge (but never falls)

All my friends are...falling in love,

and they can't seem to get enough

or they lose everything else,

for their blind love

(you fall too fast, too hard, too soon, too blindly, and all you'd be left with is pieces,

And I am the bystander that can't help but help pick up the shards.)

Do I know what it means to be a woman? Do I know the difference between a man strutting out his weight across the road while a woman shies off to give way? Do I know what it means to be a woman in a world where several of us are raped, killed, used, exploited, discarded, murdered, ripped, scrunched up, unwound, run over, violated, pried into, scraped, annihilated? Do not teach me my genitals; I know full well that they betray me to a life of suffering. To be a woman is to be a sacrifice, something to settle for— nymph, virgin, innocent, beautiful, motherly, young all at the same time. It is not enough to be one, or several; we must be all. Anything less is unacceptable in front of a measly appendage. I am something to be given away, something to be pursued, something to be caught despite what I may have to say in such a manner. I am something bartered; something sold (hopefully in pristine condition for that is where my value is), a commodity, a trophy at best; vermin, sad, unagreeable, used up cunt at worst. Wicked fruit bears a wicked tree, bears a wicked fruit; but perhaps mine is a dried up, rotting thing. The apple does not fall far from the tree, but its branches are tired; it crumbles under its own weight, crumpled over like a weeping willow next to the cedars and oak trees.

I have found that safety is to be undesirable.

Bro i really wanna end my life righ now i can’t do with my braincell anymore. I can’t exporiment for Chemisrty, i can’t fix my math grades, i can’t lekarn Slovenian laguange properly. i wanna escape from a situation cuz is impossible for me to deal with. My mom and sister are not stoping guilttriping or bodyshaming me. The way i can’t memorize stuff in need to do. I can’t SIT still, or bihave or call my nerves. I don’t know what i’m doing. My mom forces to do what she wants. She won’t stop telling me that my sugar will not stand fizzy drink or how eating to much will make me look worse. Every weekend the same story. Every weekend. How i was young and smart and now I’m tourning into disaster. Same with my dad. He bivše me mixed relationship. Toxic father-daughter relationship. Sometimes he protactes me. Sometimes he admits what is my mom is saying to me when I disappointed him. IDK what my own mother is doing. I often feel tricked or pressured into doing things. Like the time my dad went with my sister and my fem cousin to see my grandma, she was sick and one of my family members came to see her. I was left with my mom, my brother and my newborn brother. I was talking to my dad one day and i was a bit jealous cuz he was spending time with his nieces and my mom figured it out. The next day i talked with my grandma and my mom helped me with what to ask her until she tricked me to insulting i don’t remember what i was saying but i know it was offensive. The next day my dad called me and yelled for my grandma cry and they i blamed my mom for this and stormed off. My mom and gram gram are not in good talking tho. 2 weeks ago my dad was sick and his legs hurted. Then the drama came. My mom and grandma argued like always blaming one another. Every day when i’m not at home, every evening and every weekend. Last week i told my school therapist what happend at the Sunday evening. My dad told me to bring him a sleeveless shirt. I thoat he was heading down stars to help his bakery. I broaght him a white shirt. Then he insulted me saying: i have no shame to help a sick human, i can’t do things right, that they should beat me and i didn’t derserve to be born to etc. I really wanna avoid my parents. They are just too much handle. I get insecure a lot. I’m still trying to figure what does ADHD mean or do i perhaps have it. Is it bad? When i wanna vent to my sister she agrees what my mom said. Got can i reast at least?

I swar if someone gives me advice i will throw a chair at them.

If tonight be our last and the skies fall and the universe splits in two

i would like to go with the imprint of your head leaning on my shoulder

the sound of your laugh filling my eardrums and blocking the impact

the shatter of everything falling as you sigh and make some remark that they really picked their timing, you just mopped the floor-

that would be the blueprint, my dear sweet friend, for the rest of our short short lives

and I would like that.

Hands, Water, A Reminder

Not me and self projecting again lmao. 

Warning for self worth issues.

It’s a suffocating feeling. Phantom hands wrap around your throat. They’re always there, a reminder.

Sometimes, the hold is loose. There, but very light, like a thought in the back of your mind that you can’t quite shake off. It needs you to know it’s still there, that it’ll never go away .

Sometimes, the grip is strong, thumbs pressing into your throat, difficult to breathe. Vision blurred and clouded over in this feeling.

And other times. . . The hands hold you down, a tight grip, shoving you down into the water. Breathing is impossible, coughing up air and replacing it with water.

The way you carry yourself, the way you walk and talk. Surface level observations scream that you’re proud of you, that you like you.

But they don’t see those hands, wrapped around your throat. They wouldn’t want to, anyway. It’s so much easier to take someone at their surface level, so much easier not to bother looking further, finding flaws, problems.

So you take it. Take their words and criticism, use it, solidify the image, the mask, you’ve created.

But the hands are still there. Constant reminders.

You can do better.

You fucked up.

You ruined everything again.

You’re not worth anything.

You can’t get shit right.

They tell you, you have talent, you’re skilled. But what does that do?

You still mess up.

You still know there’s so much better out there.

You’re not worth shit.

Every breath you take is a waste, every sip of water, every little resource you use to survive. It’s all a waste.

But you fear death, don’t you?

So with every time the hands drag you down, watch you cough and choke and fill your lungs with water, it still brings you back up. Resuscitates you.

You’ll forever continue drowning, you’ll forever be reminded of how little you’re worth. The water is in your lungs, forever.

The cruelty of a parent

tw: mentions of death, sickness and body horror

A parent finds itself in the same position, wanting nothing but to be released of the burden of life, it pleaded to its maker. But unfortunately it's fate was sealed. The devil had made its deal and dragged by chains it will start again, this time it will be different but the final outcome will be at its hands.

Your body feels exhausted, excruciatingly so. Your departure was one of sickness, confined to a bed, the last thing you herded was the resounding screams of your child. You had long awaited this release, but unfortunately, it felt like it wasn't over yet.

Now, you find yourself alone in a black void, with only the echoes of your thoughts for company. When suddenly a white light appeared in front of you, you knew who this is, you had met before. "Please, I just want to rest. I've had enough. I just want peace and quiet, to be alone without anyone bothering me anymore," you plead weakly.

“I know, my child, you are deserving of a good rest,” but unfortunately, the devil had made its deal. A chain latched around your neck. “But you need to go back, be assured that if you desire it, it will be for the last time, and that the insolence of your family will be addressed. Though I can't do anything about your body's predisposition, you will be spared from your memories of this time. I just hope that, in the same vein as your child, you can also make the most of it this time, and when the time really comes, you will make a good choice. Since the only trump card to the devil is its angel,” it told you before the chain dragged you to where you once were. You will start anew, but guided by shadow hands you will follow a new path.

Growing up is coming into terms that you are the devil in your mother's card's

A Plead to G-d

Tw for Self worth issues, suicide allusion and body horror

Under your wish, your soul has departed the world, and yet again you face your maker. You're chastised for the destruction you wrought upon what was created for you. A deal is presented, however: after toying with the lives of those close to you at your leisure to make them "better," you will be able to return to a new time of your choosing as you are, with your mind and memories intact. But the outcome will remain uncertain, and perhaps things were made the way they were for a reason. Will you take that deal?

You find yourself in a black void, surrounded by darkness in all directions. You can see only yourself, unchanged, incredibly spite of the circumstances of your departure. You feel detached, able to move but sluggishly, as if your body were drunk while your mind remained fully awake, enduring the unbearable pain that seeps into every joint of your body holding it together, as if it was whispering, "Hang in there, this isn't over yet.”

A blinding light appears before you. "Child, what have you done?" it questions, its tone calm yet tinged with anger, this wasn't your first time meeting each other. "Your insolence surpasses all expectations," it continues. "I created and guided you as intended, yet you chose to destroy what I created and demand control in return."

"You created a monster, a parasite worth nothing. You have no grounds to reprimand me. I wasn't the one in control," you cry out, the pain echoing through your body, speaking for long wasn't an option and your pity arguments won't help you this time; you may get what you want, but things may not go as you envision them to.

"Just... let me come back… different world... with my memories and mind intact... the same family, different circumstances of birth... myself from the beginning... I've told you countless times what I desire... to see my mother happy... to be something new in a new place... to be able to choose better this time..." you pleaded pathetically.

"You always demand the impossible from me, and not once have I heard a word of gratitude for what you have," it responds, its words piercing deeper than before, leaving you trembling in pain yet still awaiting an answer.

"But as you wish. If you want to destroy yourself that badly, I will offer you two choices: serve under me, forsaking yourself and allowing those close to you to live in blissful ignorance of your existence… or return as you are now with your memories to a new time of your choosing, your life altered to your own scrutiny as you demand. But let me warn you, even if I allow you to determine the circumstances of your arrival, the experiences and time you lived before were intentional. You were meant to be there. Going elsewhere will be difficult, unpredictable, and perhaps not as you imagined it to be. You will not know anything about this new surroundings, you will not be able to remember this meeting, and the outcome will remain uncertain."

"Once it's over, you will not be able to make any more demands. This will be the last time we will meet, and you will be left in this void for all eternity, with only your past memories to keep you company," it beckoned, its tone final and resolute.

"I will accept your deal under the condition that I can modify what I want, and that you promise not to smear this deal with foul play," you responded angrily.

"You have my word," said the light, disappointedly.

The lives of those close to you appeared before you. You could see your grandparents' lives, the life of your bastard father, and most importantly, that of your mother. With your tyrannical hands, you started to bend those lives to your mercy. You killed your father in a horrible accident, you saved your grandfather from cancer, you made yourself be a girl and your mother to marry a doctor, having two children instead of you alone; you made countless changes that you wanted under the guise of making things "better".

Once you were satisfied playing with your family's past, you angrily said to the light, "It's done."

"Very well," it responded, before you felt your entire body enveloped in pain. Each part fell apart with unbearable agony, your face melting as you screamed in horror.

Then, a blinding light engulfed you, and you found yourself crying in the arms of someone.