“it Was A Cry / Meant For No One / But The Moon—”

“Dogs don’t know what they look like. Dogs don’t even know what size they are. No doubt it’s our fault, for breeding them into such weird shapes and sizes. My brother’s dachshund, standing tall at eight inches, would attack a Great Dane in the full conviction that she could tear it apart. When a little dog is assaulting its ankles the big dog often stands there looking confused — “Should I eat it? Will it eat me? I am bigger than it, aren’t I?” But then the Great Dane will come and try to sit in your lap and mash you flat, under the impression that it is a Peke-a-poo… Cats know exactly where they begin and end. When they walk slowly out the door that you are holding open for them, and pause, leaving their tail just an inch or two inside the door, they know it. They know you have to keep holding the door open. That is why their tail is there. It is a cat’s way of maintaining a relationship. Housecats know that they are small, and that it matters. When a cat meets a threatening dog and can’t make either a horizontal or a vertical escape, it’ll suddenly triple its size, inflating itself into a sort of weird fur blowfish, and it may work, because the dog gets confused again — “I thought that was a cat. Aren’t I bigger than cats? Will it eat me?” … A lot of us humans are like dogs: we really don’t know what size we are, how we’re shaped, what we look like. The most extreme example of this ignorance must be the people who design the seats on airplanes. At the other extreme, the people who have the most accurate, vivid sense of their own appearance may be dancers. What dancers look like is, after all, what they do.”

— Ursula Le Guin, in The Wave in the Mind (via fortooate)

“Sometimes letting go is the only way to find out who you’re meant to hold on to.”

— J. Sterling, The Perfect Game

“Dying is an art,like everything else.

I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.”

What is a candle turned wax?

It has one fixed shape,its life has been drained and it is useless.

Nevertheless I can’t help viewing it as an object which still has much to give.

Yes,it has completed it’s life’s task;

Thus,hasn’t it been freed from the burden of needing a purpose?

Shapeless,vacuous,mutilated,yet—

free

As I sit here,staring at a newly lit candle,I can’t help seeing my life being mirrored in the flame.

It is not burning,it’s living.

Somewhat pliable,though it still holds its shape.

Much like myself,really.

I can bend myself to my own will,yet I am subject to the still air that engulfs me.

Am I living my life,or is my life living me?

Devoid of purpose,I grasp at the slightest shift taking place in my life.

My life-long friend has come to check on me.

It has never once left me,only side-stepped so as to witness how I would fare with knowing him gone.

It will forever be bound to me,and I to him.

A life-long friendship bringing excruciating pain in my bones,in my flesh,a drought that cannot be recovered from.

I am yours,and you are mine.

I regret our meeting as much as I treasure it.

Am I offering you a worthy companionship?

Drifting apart and sitting on the sidelines may be a good change.

They always say we will value the most what we had but ended up losing,don’t they?

Let’s put a seal on our friendship,celebrating our reunion and promising for it to be the last in a long time.

When I was young, I used to admire intelligent people; as I grow older, I admire kind people.

Abraham Joshua Heschel (via perfeqt)

INTJs doomed by design?

stlsrr submitted: Hello, Harsh title i know, but its the best to describe what im about to express.  Its not long ago i found out about my INTJ character, though to my surprise it explained a lot!  The way i acted and reacted to specific situations, my love for solitude,  not much talking etc… you probably are aware of these things. But its the first time I was justified by knowing that. The reason was  simply, that when you are the ONLY one to act differently (not akward) and EVERY single person you know to judge  you and turn against what you are you begin to doubt your self and your ways. Though that is very painful  thing to do because deep in you you know you are acting in a “correct” way that asides morality and happines of your self. INTJs love to have it rough, indeed we adore challenge, but this is something way different.  Despite i dont wish to write about me self rather to express my ideas i have to say that my life the past few years been … lets just say not to pretty.  Both my actions and my luck costed me and made me lose a lot.  Thought that’s one of my biggest debates as an INTJ.  Did i brought it upon my self or just people behaviors did? In other words cant an INTJ ever avoid this presure about their “inner be”   I havent met any other INTJ , the closest i got is an ENTJ ( a Godsent gift!!!) , and because of that i havent the slightest idea  how other INTJs deal with their lives.  Me , as an INTJ tend to have most of the characterists that make a person of that temperament to be jugded as wierd, loner, sarcastic, selfish and many more, but i Never let that to take me down.  There were many times i trully wanted to give in my nature and be sarcastic, snobbish, through my ingenius ways i could be extremly evil and revengeful. But i withhold my self. Due to my  evolved  sensing and feeling  I wanted to like people, to respect, appreciate and accept them for what they are. I was by their side in their darkest hours, i was always looking for the goodness in them… 

I’m not sure if that was a mistake but defently people never apreciated the efford  and value i gave em.   I never asked and gotten nothing in return rather a cold and unfair behavior by them.  I dont know what caused that and i dont know who to blame, but i all  know is that it made me more cold and less expressive. After two years of extreme conditions i was tired to withhold over and over again and again…  I wasnt aware of how i could reacted through a very negative perspective on life.  Long story short very outraging. I started to defend my self againt others will to change me.  Are INTJs so … violent as in terms of self preservation ? That time i figured that not only people were afraid of me and started to respect me but as well i met my capabilities, something that made me afraid of living through a negative side. So my points out of all the above are:  Do INTJs have it rough in their lives? and if so how should they react? Respect towrds others? Or their selves?  ( I believe both isnt an acceptable anwser as we are people of edges, the is no shades of grey in our lives, just black and white)  Should an INTJ show compassion and patience for what  people are or simply people brought it to them selves (Our reaction to their actions)?  For the same as we INTJs want to be accepted as we are ,  i believe we should show some but… im out of alternatives, they just dont accept us.  And as the title suggest are INTJs doomed by design?  How can a person thats destined to see and fix mistakes to ever find peace and happiness in such a flawed world?   Thanks for reading and thanks for any kind of reply. 

03/10/2021

It wasn’t a long time ago,though it supposedly was.

Here I laid,in this same bed,hugging my covers as tightly as I could,

genuinely wishing to become one with them and vanish in that exact moment.

It felt like a void,the harshest and heaviest one could experience within their bodily existence.

My mind,an abyss.

My body,an havoc.

Somewhere,somehow,I envisioned a version of me which could grasp that forlorn warmth.

She welcomed it in the most easy-going manner,very-well knowing how fleeting that emotion would be.

It was not light,nor was it fuzzy,or bubbling or anything at all.

It just was.

It was right.

May it be precognition or the strength of my will,I do know that THAT was the precursor to who I am now.

I’m alive,living who I yearned to be.

And a lot more than than that as well.

When you decide to touch a woman

Remember who gave you hands

When you crush her with words

Remember who gave you a tongue

When her heart cracks open and flows like a red river

Remember who will make your heart stop

(I hope God cuts off every part of you that was used to hurt a woman)

𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒉

Welcome Me

Lately I’ve found myself… lost.

I mean everyone has been in their own way over the past year and half. Been there, said that. 

But when I feel stuck…or lost..or wandering…it’s not good. Not that it’s great for anyone. I just tend to spiral.

I’m losing touch of what makes me happy and honestly maybe what’s even scarier to me is that I’m losing a sense of what I want. And I don’t mean in life. I’ve never had any answers to that question. But rather whenever I make a decision lately, no matter how small or large, it’s like I’m looking at myself from outside my body. It’s a stranger making that decision. 

Maybe thats imposter syndrome. I’ve heard the term thrown about a few times here and there. But I’m trying to walk away from labeling myself, those around me, and behaviors. I feel like we as a society are teetering on the edge of the toxic thought process: “If we label it, we understand it.” Right now, I’m not caring too much about the diagnosis and more about the symptoms. 

Interestingly enough, I just remembered a take on relationship communication that connects nicely to that thought process. They (@kyleleejenner on tiktok) said that “more often than not, when your girlfriend is sharing a problem with you she’s probably talking about an emotional one….what she is feeling about the problem is actually more important to her than the problem itself. Therefore listening to her feelings will solve the problem. She doesn’t want your practical solutions right now.”

I don’t necessarily care about the label or maybe even to the solutions right now. But I do care that I feel this way. I care that it feels like I’m someone I’m not. I care that I’m worrying about regretting decisions. I care that what I think I’m feeling is not really how I’m feeling. 

I’m hoping writing my feelings will help to acknowledge how I’m feeling or even to discover how I’m truly feeling. Next steps will come later.

Feeble though sweet

light pours

over the immense meadow

expanding in my eyes,

unmoved by the night sky

thundering upon it.

The moon is to follow its own instincts

navigating the ocean of endlessness

not hiding in itself,

but with a open-heart

bleeding and scarred

and cold.

It is not a bringer of sadness.

It is a reflection of reality.

Not the one we’re living in,

yet both our senses

and mind

are touched by it,

as if it were no more a caress

than it is a warning.

Lonely moon,

and lonely woman,

not to be found in rationality

but in the inexistence of both

the self and the ego.