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Sam Hook left the Navy SEALS for a new career as a professional golfer. He meets new friends that found bundles of cash floating in the Atlantic. The owners want their money back. What move does Sam make? #BookBoost #BookLover #thriller #writersofinstagram #WritingCommunity https://amazon.com/Center-Cut-Sam-Hook-novel-ebook/dp/
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Maybe always means forever sometime. And true love has the habit of coming back. #sandipwrites #writersofinstagram
i keep crying
i keep crying at the littlest things, and i cry that i do that to myself. i let every little thing tear me down and break me until i feel like i'm worth nothing. but who do i have if i keep making these walls so my feelings don't get hurt. who do i have if i can't let myself experience anything?
i don't know. who DO i have? if i can't even believe in myself or anyone to not make me cry. and then again it's all me, always me and my feelings that i feel too heavily.
some days
some days i get so lonely, but i also get so tired from saying hello. so i stare at the wall. the nice, blank, non-talkative wall. and it stares back at me. shining the sun in its reflection, letting the moon take its color. and days pass by. and still, i sit there staring at the wall. waiting, watching, my life pass me by.
so there i remain. staring at a wall that won't hurt my feelings, won't say i'm not enough, and won't take me for granted.
I wish I was loved by you like the way you loved your loved ones.
I wish I was loved by you like the way you loved your loved ones. And it's funny but I should’ve read the signs, we were never as close as I thought we were. I admired you. I looked up to you. and that's where it stopped. That's where I should've realized that everything would've never been reciprocated.
Fingertips were always barely touching the glass it peered though. And maybe just maybe, I was the object on the other side, surrounded by long panes of glass, unable to escape. Maybe I was meant to be observed by you, but never truly loved by you.
It’s been 8 months now and I haven’t heard a word from you. I hope you know I miss you. But it’s time I stop trying. No more waiting to hear your voice, for invites on nights where I get lonely, on days where it’s rainy & the sun won’t shine. I've had enough. and I hope everything I gave you was enough. Because maybe truly, I’m meant to be alone to be able to finally break down the glass.
I’ve been losing my appetite
I’ve been losing my appetite, and no it hasn’t been recently — it’s been years.
My whole life actually. It’s always been like this.
Have I always been scary to look at?
I lay on the floor of my room staring at my ceiling through the gaps of broken fingers, wondering if I’ll ever change. I don’t know.
That takes strength though, right? I don’t know if I have any more of that left. The fight in me has disappeared.
The only ones fighting for me now are my parents shaking my frail body like a rag-doll as I stare into the abyss reminding me that I’m still alive. That I need to drink water. That I need to eat. That I need to take it step by step.
But all I feel is this impending doom. I’m tired of everything. Everyone. Me. I'm tired of myself feeling tired. I’m mean and I’m usually never mean. Why am I being so mean? Especially, to myself.
Someone once told me eating wasn’t meant to be enjoyed, it was meant for survival. I appreciate the way they tried to help. But I think they failed to realize I’m tired of surviving. I’m exhausted, actually.
So I’ve— like always, been losing my appetite. Everything tastes bland, everything is so uninteresting, and everything isn’t worth eating for.
I have an issue with facing things head on
I have an issue with facing things head on, with sitting down and telling myself… okay this is what you do. I used to be good at it. I used to be the one people would go to when they needed a whole spreadsheet on what to do, on what classes to take, on what goals to set up for themselves. But something about UCLA drained me, even if it was just two years. It sucked what soul I had left. It stole my youthful energy, my aspirations of who I wanted to be, of my hope, my dreams, and most definitely my spirit. I thrived there, yes I did, but at the cost of my sanity. Everyday I walked those halls I could feel the pressure crippling me down to my core. My feet crumbling beneath me and my sense of self slowly being overshadowed by the ideals of an institution overthrown with wh!te supremacy. Unfortunately, it led me to the darkest pits I could feel in my bones. I wanted to fade away and never exist. Maybe it was my fault, a young girl moving to the big city in hopes of finally being free. Maybe it was all my fault that I never paced myself. Maybe it truly was all my fault, after the world shut down for a couple years I finally saw hope to escape, hope that masqueraded underneath a veil of thief. I won’t be ungrateful for being able to experience what I have, meet some amazing brilliant minds, but also I won’t be ever truly so blind to say this place didn’t leave me with the most of scars. Or maybe, this place exposed the scars that I thought I had already healed from. “I wish I did this differently, I wish I did that differently.” No. I did my best everyday, actually. I did what I never thought possible, actually. I’ve been working so hard to be where I am right now since I was a young teenage girl, so why… So why do I still feel— like a failure? Will this feeling ever go away? I’m so close to the finish line, yet my energy to keep running is gone, and I hate myself for it.
Depression makes me feel like a dull knife, you know you can still use it but it’s still dull even after it’s sharpened. Try as much as you can, use as much force as you need but the knife will always be, dull. Maybe you’re too lazy to sharpen it thoroughly, maybe you’re too attached to let it go. So it sits there. In your drawer beside the newly sharpened knives, unused, useless, and there in memoriam.
One day I promise you, you're not going to miss him forever. As much as his memories keep on resurfacing every now and then, there will be a day when everything will stop and your emotions will just change towards him. I mean, you won't start hating him instead of loving him the way you do now. You will just stop feeling for him. I know that you still wait for him to text you even when you are asleep. Part of you is awake waiting for him to call you. I know you miss him so much that your bones hurt. I know you miss him so much that it just feels a little more empty every day. I promise you are not going to be this sad forever. I know your heart aches all the time. I know you loved him, you still do and maybe you will always love him. But you can keep on loving someone until that love feels like it's pulling you down. When you feel that, let that feeling leave you. It's okay to stop having feelings for him, it's okay to just be neutral towards him. You don't have to starve yourself of things that he wasn't able to give you. One day you're going to move on and it's going to be the most beautiful thing that could happen to you after he broke your heart. Until then, remember to be soft on yourself. Remember to be a wreck and don't be afraid of spilling your emotions. Be a mess, be with big feelings and you can cry in public, too. We are all a mess but how we manage to handle ourselves is what makes us better than others.
-Talesofmaya via Instagram
“I apologize for loving like wildfire”
If I loved too loudly — forgive me. If I stayed too long in the corners of your mind where you never invited me, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to love politely. I don’t know how to knock first before entering hearts. I only know how to arrive barefoot, with poems under my tongue, with eternity in my palms, with the kind of tenderness that burns more than it soothes. I only know how to stay until the walls crumble, until secrets spill soft in the dark, until skin forgets every name except mine. I apologize for loving like wildfire — but darling, no one ever taught me how to be rain. So I set myself on fire and called it devotion. And maybe that’s why people ran even when they swore they wouldn’t. Because no one wants to be loved so much it makes them see themselves naked. Not just skin — but soul, bone, all the hidden places they buried long ago. I wasn’t here to break you. I was just here to love you completely. But sometimes even that is too much.
“I write slowly… with depth…”
Whispers Between Pages By Astrum
I have always trusted the quiet of untold stories, the soft ache that lingers between what is written and what is merely felt.
I do not chase endings — I unfold them, slowly, like paper worn thin by longing and hands that know the weight of memory.
Somewhere between ink and skin, I found my truest voice — not to speak louder, but to listen deeper to the words that choose to find me first.
Is it your poetic gaze, those damn poetic eyes, or just my poetic heart, the very reason why every part of you each way you exist, is the most beautfiul possession that i can ever call mine....
-mauli ♡
Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you...
Falling in love is like a fairytale
Cause fairytales never existed
just like my love..
- Rz
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
-Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib
I just updated my fantasy novel! (Still working on editing the 1 part cuz I’m not very convinced. Will probably edit this newest one more too)
Me writing the most traumatic experience for my protagonist:
Writer things
Me doing research/studying for my novel:
-I’m just gonna read this passage of this book
Three hours later*
-Oh fuck
Sharing the beginnings of my fantasy novel here, hoping someone might feel drawn by the synopsis and take a peek inside.
As with any piece of writing, there’s still a lot of editing to do, but seeing it evolve and become something greater than you thought it could be at the beginning, is the lovely thing about the journey.
Copypasted synopsis from the wattpad version
In a war-torn world, the ancestral peoples of the Old Country are decreasing in number at an alarming rate, after two decades of war with the humans and elves. The Eagle-People have been pushed back so far from their lands they're going extinct, however there is the growing thunder of a rebellion in the West beyond the Athar Keep, where dragons lie in wait.
A lost eaglet torn cruelly from her family must now travel beyond the Keep, the only shelter left for those like her. However, what she'll find over the Wall will change the tide of the war.
All rights reserved.
Touching your hands make me feel at home and lost at the same time. I will never know which one I like more,which one takes me far away from myself and closer to you.
What has made me speak less with each passing day? I watch the dragonfly escape the lizard by inches and I decide to stay. I want my words and my life to escape death. So every time I try exaggerating my empathy , the insouciance, and the ability to extract only the bad side of my words and my life makes me edge closer to silence. I do not want to throttle my words to death.