A Lot Of The Time I Don't Feel Like I've Matured Past 16. I Still Feel Just As Scared And Even More Lonely.

How do you feel about kindness being filmed like they’re performances. Someone hands a homeless person a sandwich, and boom, the cameras rolling. I’m a good person, they say without saying it, but the thing is a sandwich can only last so long, yet you'll be dining on those social media likes all week. Sure,it’s lovely, helping people. But here’s the thing: It’s sad that the world’s become a stage for doing good when you have a camera in your face, or worse in the face of someone struggling to live each day, they are not the supporting actors in your new tiktok. We don’t just help anymore. We sell the moment. Isn't it lovely though getting credit for being decent when your not just doing good. Your doing good for the algorithm.

you don't have to post this or respond to this ( and I don't even know if this will get to you cause tumblr ask boxes are dumb), but I saw your Jan 12 post and I just wanted to tell you to hang in there. know that you are seen and cared for (even if it's just us randoms on tumblr). your number isn't getting pushed back. the line's just a little longer than you realize. the sun will come out for you soon <3

(p.s. feel free to ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable / you think it's useless, but I'm praying for you random tumblr stranger. )

This kind messege was hiding in my ask box amongst alot of troll asks and I'm so touched. Anon, thank you for this. I'll keep what you said in mind, I really appreciate you taking the time to send this, I'm sorry I found it so long after you sent it. It means alot, I'm asking the universe to send you joy and there's nothing random about you , you're very kind💛

I have covid. Lovely. I didn't get it during the pandemic but this is awful, I woke up at four am not being able to breath, ended up having a panic attack (fun) and now I have all the other symptoms, so yep. Fun stuff.

Hope wins every time the sun peaks over the horizon after a long dark night, it softens the day and baths the ground, it warms the air and we breath easier and maybe our souls uncurl a little from that protective crouch we've grown used to, maybe we let our limbs loosen, maybe we let hope sink into our skin, maybe we let it melt our misery from within.

I'm older than you, but you scare me sometimes. I worry about this anger that manifests inside you like a black hole, sucking in all the negativie feelings you have and spitting them out at the slightest trigger. You are better at talking about your feelings now, the black hole isn't as active. I feel like I've taught you alot about it being okay to be vulnerable, we've learnt alot about what we mean to each other and our intentions. But sometimes that black whole starts up again and I'll be none the wiser and that scares me sometimes.

An incoming phone call you say

And I freeze like a deer in headlights

Have I been hit, I feel blooding rushing past my ear drums

My heart is beating quick

then quicker, a fast rapid flicker

it's trying to run away, but my body won't move

Instead my body stands shock still and I watch locked in, but so far removed

I'm dizzy spinning around and round in my amygdala, a ringing is pulsing against the outside walls of it

trying to get inside

I cannot hide

Then the ringing just stops

it's stops

Incoming call is dropped and rational thinking has lost.

I emptied the photo albums and all the pictures from the frames. I took them with me, because life moves fast and time fades most of the past, but those childhood memories I dare not try to erase, least of all your face. Even though alot of the memories are filled with fear and tears I still cling to a time when you where clearer than a faded photograph.

I can't think about you for too long, but sometimes you climb out of my Amygdala and I let your face press against my prefronal cortex. Your presence is mostly wrapped in bubbler wrap, hidden in a back room, somewhere near the things I can't talk about and the things I should have. I've quietly closed the door, but it's not locked, I don't think it ever will be, I don't think I want it be. But that room isn't a place I like to visit, it only holds you and the things that shouldn't have happened.

I don't let myself look up what my school friends are doing now, I'm afraid. Afraid I'll find pictures of a something I missed. I remember us at 11 crowded around a school library computer, you both looked up your favourite wedding dresses most of them mermaid and lacy white, you picked out our bridesmaids dresses and talked about how we would find a colour that at least looked good on us all; I thought powdered blue. I miss being that young, when the only worries where our homework and hoping we where first out for lunch. Maybe you did get married, maybe if I log in to my socials I'll find an invite. Or maybe time has changed too much, we aren't eleven anymore. I wonder if you picked powdered blue or a mermaid dress in lacy white, I wonder if something remains the same.