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Melancholy - Blog Posts
Another Year Passed
Maybe I just put certain events from my childhood on such a high pedestal that none of my current experiences could top them. Maybe that always makes me melancholic for past times. Maybe that’s why I’ve become unable to really enjoy my time as much as I used to.
If you can be reborn into a flower in the next life, I would like it to be Magnolia.
A little in love with this video taken from my dorm window 🌩️
Instagram didn't wanna post the proper size so I hope Tumblr let's me. Atleast JI know how too tag stuff here properly too (just in case they start working again.)
I forgot I had tumblr haha. Here’s my senior art project, an adventure game called ‘Melancholy.’ You’ve seen hints here and there, but this is the finished product! Honestly printing these out and shipping them off was more stressful than the entire project, the store ran out of paper and I had to do a reprint :,(
Hi everyone, how are you doing?
I hope you are doing well as you possibly can. I'm doing okay despite all of the heavy turmoil this year. This has been exhausting, and if I could, I'd give you the biggest of hugs.
Much love, stay safe ❤️
Afternoon sky
#poetry #poem #poet #poemsofig #poemsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #writers #creative #writing #writingcommunity #musings #feelings #myheartisahotel #heart #helpless #life #melancholy
A short poem inspired (infires?) by the song "First Love" by @bts.bighitofficial SUGA from their latest album WINGS (http://ow.ly/7DBK306XIqc). One of the best album I ever bought! #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #originalpoem #BTS #suga #ARMY #wings #firstlove #love #dream #joy #melancholy #music #write
When you are old by W.B Yeats. Too much feels but it's just beautiful. #poem #poetry #poemsofig #poet #poetryisnotdead #wbyeats #classic #literature #melancholy #beautiful #wordporn #nostalgic
We are not, nor should we be, immutable.
All things change,
The seasons as the earth spins round the sun,
The wind as air heats and cools,
The symphony of sounds as day turns to night.
We are no different,
We can and should change,
And yet we rail against it.
We hold this notion that must alway know who we are and thus must never change,
Yet we still know the earth as the seasons change,
We still know the air as the winds change,
We still know the songs of day and night no matter how they change.
To know yourself does not mean you cannot change,
But simply that you must accept change knowing that regardless it is still you.
This is not goodbye II
Because nothing else matters.
Night in a blur.
Chanel Rose
A Gracht in Amsterdam. It seemed to be a bit of magic in the air.......
St. Pauls Cathedral in London in 2014 on a trip with some friends.
What makes you think
You are different from the millions of others living in this planet.?
What makes you feel
That just by not doing what others are doing
You'll be different.?
Whatever it is, you're wrong
You are no different.
The same flesh
The same organs
The same creature
Humans.
Maybe your face is different
Your finger prints are different
The color of your eyes
The length of your hair
Is different.
But that's it
You are the same.
The same flesh
The same bone
The same creature
Humans.
Just because you do or don't do something
Doesn't make you different.
The fact that you feel different
During different situations
Doesn't make you different.
It's the same
The same flesh
The same skin
The same creature
Humans.
I'm angry
I'm depressed
I'm furious
I'm sad
I'm all of this
But, they are just common human emotions.
The same flesh
The same emotions
The same creature
Humans.
And that's the melancholy of being human
It's all the same.
Music is powerful because it hurts. It actually, very physically hurts. It feels like a thick balloon is inflating behind your chest and it's spreading to your stomach and arms and fingers and you want to curl into yourself as if that will stop it from growing but it continues on. The nostalgia will only ever be nostalgia. The weekly visits with a friend are now barely even a text every few months. The fandom you dedicated your life to is barely even a passing thought anymore. The ideas that ran through your head now gather dust as a forgotten word document. Life is better, sure, but life used to have them. Why couldn't life be better and still keep them?
This would have never happened if you hadn’t listened to that music. But oh how beautiful those memories are, and there's a smile on your face despite the balloon threatening to pop if you listen a moment longer.
Black blindfold
No home where i belong
Lost in the here and now
Haven't seen me for too long
Lost in the fog of the past
Such a sad sight for
Sad eyes and a bad mind
Where have I been?
It feels so wrong
To look through blind eyes
There ain't no hindsight
This pain consumed the pictures
But the sorrow still lingers
She said:
"Dont think of a pink elephant"
And I couldn't see
Everything feels the same, now.
That is to say,
Everything feels like coming to life.
That is to say, everything
Feels like dying anew.
.
—resurrection (y.c.)
While I am currently experiencing what can only be described as an Edgar Allan Poe kind of melancholy that could be romanticised/endured by rotting in bed all day, feeling sad and reading poetry from said poet, I regrettably have to study for insanely important exams, and so life is pure misery
The vulnerable truth beneath...
Some days are so beautiful and melancholy that you feel your heart bleeding out as the light inevitably fades from them, stopping as night falls and waiting to be reawakened by the arrival of another day some incalculable amount of time away in the unknowable future that will bring back this nameless feeling that is now crystallized in your memories.