The cycle never ends

Michiko Aoyama, tr. by Alison Watts, from What You Are Looking for is in the Library

[Text ID: “What are you looking for? she had asked me. / I think about it. A place for these dreams that I don’t know what to do with?”]

Ever had those days where you're just like, "What's the point?" It's like this heavy fog settles over everything, and you're stuck in this weird funk, but you can't even pinpoint why. Life feels like this endless series of battles, and lately, it seems like you're losing every single one. Trust? Yeah, good luck with that. Can't trust anyone, can't trust what's coming next, and honestly, can't even trust yourself. It's like you're stuck in this maze of doubt, and there's no clear way out. But hey, it's okay not to have it all figured out. Sometimes, you just gotta ride the wave and hope for smoother seas ahead. Hang tight, buddy. 🌊🌀🌟

Some days I do feel hopeful.

But how do I hold on to that. I lose it all so quickly.

I often think about how I want to die… but I don’t really want to die, I just want to not feel like this. I just want to not be here in this reality where life is painful. I want to go somewhere else where everything is ok. I really want to live actually. I want to live and be happy… but I can’t.

DISPAIR is pressing in on my ears.

I am at the bottom of the pool, but there is no cool water.

Only hopelessness.

This hopelessness is ceasing at times, so that I am unable to adapt to the nausea of it.

It strikes me deaf and blind each time.

It lurks at the back of my throat during fleeting moments of happiness, and tastes of bile.

My mostly bright smile malformed, turned down at the very edges.

This hopefully goes unnoticed.

My point is that things are certainly not what they seem.

I may be this, or perhaps even that.

But deep deep inside,

All I am is a neglected dog.

A stray lying in the street.

A filthy fucking mutt, with dirty paws and an unkempt shaggy coat.

You would do well to steer clear, because I am not worth your time.

April 18, 1956 — see The Complete Peanuts 1955-1958

I am like the pomegranate tree, but all my branches have been cut, broken, and buried with the dead. My heart has become a shriveled pomegranate beating with death and falling every second into a bottomless pit. But no one knows. No one. The pomegranate alone knows.

Sinan Antoon, from The Corpse Washer

Why am i so kind ?

- curator 🗝️

I just feel like stuck. Every day is the same and I'm just existing not living.

let's drive off and act stupid, reckless, cool. hit the gas, they don't need us here anyway

Dear Draco

Draco X Fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I know of :)

Summary: While Hogwarts winds down for the night, Reader takes the time to write about her feelings for Draco.

Note: I don’t use Y/N and bold writing is the letter. :)

—

The fire flames warmed her exposed skin, the cracking and soft chatter the only noise she could hear. It was a peaceful night at Hogwarts, something that was quite rare but she was sure if she traveled to the Gryffindor Common Room the endless hollers of the twins would be guaranteed. But she preferred this very spot, sitting on the soft rug in the Slytherin Common Room in front of the table by the fire place. The soft emerald surrounding her was even more welcoming than usual at nighttime. Like as the skies grew darker for the night the green grew more inspiring and yearning for company.

Grabbing a new piece of parchment she retrieved a quill and an ink bottle, setting up the essentials accordingly. Dipping the quill in she prepared to write the best she could. Best meaning better than any essay she’s written and notes she’s taken. For this writing was most important even though no eyes except hers would lay on this afterwards. The quill tip hit the paper softly, smoothly guiding her hand as she wrote the first words to her love.

Dear Draco,

I take this moment to write to you as if I am actually talking to you, as if you are sitting across from me right now and listening to what I have to say. Now I know I would never have the courage to actually give this to you, nor would I have the gut to walk up to you in the first place to do so. I wouldn’t just be too hesitant to talk with you but to also face the people that constantly surround you. But I like to write this as a form of comfort, like you’re someone I can easily discuss my feelings with even though those feelings are all towards you.

Now if I could go back to the time I first saw you,- even though there probably is a way with the magic that Hogwarts beholds these days-eleven years old sitting on the train to Hogwarts with endless giggles and snarls escaping you and countless chocolate frogs being stuffed in your mouth I wouldn’t hesitate to do so. For I believe back then was the time you were the true you, the person you were born to be. The person I saw was a beautiful boy who had so much to live for, so much to experience and discover. You had so much to express, so many people to converse with. If only I was one of those people; something I often find myself fantasizing. Would we ever make it as friends, I wonder. Blossoming into something more romantic is one thing and quite a stretch but just having the opportunity to be your friend would be enough for me. Just being able to imagine you being a person I could talk to whenever I desired is truly mesmerizing. I think then and only then would my world be complete. Yet, thinking about it know, you are my world. You are something that surrounds me with happiness and gives me a home to live in. You are my home now that I think about it further. You are many things to me. Many things that if I were to say this letter to you my love would be far too long; it would take years to read. You are more than words can express and more than feelings can feel. You are my everything, to put it simply.

If only I could explain what I’m feeling when I’m around you, even within the same room as you. But my heart is too full when my eyes meet yours and I can’t take it; it’s almost too much for me. My affection towards you is far too overwhelming, which is one reason why I can’t explain it. I wouldn’t know where to start and where to finish. For the time I have with you is treasured, that is if I ever have the tenacity to do so; that is if you ever take the time to read this if and when I give it to you.

What I’ve been struggling to say is that I love you, Draco.

Now if this letter ever becomes transferred from my hands to yours because of sudden courage or against my will or simply just because Pansy wants to embarrass me, I would understand how much emotions that just be coursing through you. But at least I came to this point without hesitation, for this letter alone I was hesitant to write. Who knows whose hands this letter would end up in if I misplaced it. For I don’t think I ever would. After I address this letter by folding it and writing your beautiful name on it I would hide it in my trunk, hidden from the world and hidden from you. For I wouldn’t ever want to hide anything from you if we ever become friends but this I must. It’s something that if revealed would leave a mark that neither of us would be able to ignore.

For I must go now, for students are now nearing the Common Room entrance and I’m afraid you are going to be among them.

Goodbye, my love.

~Lover

With that she blew softly on the ink that wrote the farewell so it would dry before putting everything away. Once she did so, she carefully folded the letter with the kindest hands she could manage and placed it in her bag. Just as students piled in, she spotted him among them as predicted, pale hair strolling through the room as he made his way to the boy’s dorms. Her eyes followed his body as he did so, watching as the boy she dearly loved went another day without knowing a single thing about how she felt about him.

there is hope, but not for us