Tumgik
othermoondiary · 2 years
Text
7.11.22
holding onto love is like carrying this giant backpack
filled with books and research papers
on how to be human.
I carry it with me every day,
with no intention to read them
I just carry it with me
for the sake of feeling heavy and down
I just carry it with me
for the sake of feeling like I have a reason.
A purpose.
Sometimes I open these books
To read. But I end up not understanding
What is written inside.
Sometimes I open these books
To just leave them on a table. Sunny side up
With no one to peak in.
Lack of attention. Lack of patience.
So they sit there,
long forgotten.
-A.Š.
2 notes · View notes
othermoondiary · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
expressionism 
0 notes
othermoondiary · 4 years
Text
jau pusgads, kad tevis vairs nav, mīļā.
būt tālu projām nozīmē zaudēt momentāli. bet graduāli.
ak, kā tu man pietrūksti. es zinu, kad laiks sit asi. es neko vairāk nesaprotu. mana dzīve ir kļuvusi.... pelēka. bet ne ļoti. tikai nedaudz. man skumīgi ir, kad domāju par lietām, ko es vēl darīšu un tu to nekad neuzzināsi. bet tas nekas, opis tev gan jau, ka pateiks. ir grūti. ir tieši tik grūti, ka vārdi nenāk ārā pirms asarām. un es jau īsti tos vārdus vai tās sajūtas nesaprotu. bet es zinu, ka ir sevī tāds tukšums, kas nekad neaizaugs. tu tur vari bāzt visu iekšā, bet nekas tāpat nepaliks.
kādi te negatīvi ne, ne? grūti ir atrast pozitīvo. vēl joprojām. bet tev tagad vismaz nesāp, vai ne? un vari ar savu tēti būt kopā. 
tās karstās asaras nekad nerims. bet es zinu, ka tās ir manas asaras, nevis tavas. manas sāpes, nevis tavas. 
gribas Levi atkal samīļot un likt smieties. un gribas tevī radīt patiesas emocijas, kas ļautu tev atplaukt vēl pēdējo reizi.
eh. es vēl nevaru sprast, kādēļ esmu tur, kur esmu. 
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 4 years
Text
state of nothing.
two days ago someone who had a huge impact in my life was outed as a predator, sex offender, and an abuser.
someone who was leading me on for a very long time. someone who was manipulating with my emotions and logic constantly when we interacted. It took me more than a year to get myself out of that mindset and promises. It took me a lot of pain, tears, conversations with friends, self-doubts, self-hate, and general confusion to get through with it. I had met him only a couple of times, never letting him come too close to me. And it was already difficult. I cannot imagine the pain he inflicted onto his other victims; my heart goes out to you. You are incredibly courageous and strong, I love you all. I wish it didn't happen but it did. I am so sorry.
This again proves that even the most feminist and 'woke' people could be reckless manipulators. Those who pretend to care about the vulnerable and hold them captive once they know their weakness are the most disgusting.
I am still numb with anger and in disbelief with his actions. But I believe you. I am sending you my love. 
If there's a way to help, let me know. I wish I could pull up the receipts but unfortunately he has deleted instagram. I believe that was the main source of people he interacted in this way.
I am watching closely to see how this will turn out. I don't know Irish laws, I don't know how my input as an immigrant in Scotland would help but I am here, with all of you.
love, a
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 4 years
Text
tik daudz sāpju sen nav bijis.
trīcu kā apša lapa un saku ardievas.
prātam, ģimenei un saulesgaismai.
0 notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Text
I seem to only write here when my heart knows no calm. when it is tearing itself in pieces for a smile that never could be returned.
it is good, the today. I am still quite sad and misguided. but I have good people around me. good pals that contradict and challenge me. good ideas that I rage at when I cannot import them from my mind to the world. but it is all good.
I've possibly met an angel. a strange one. he is so beautiful and warm. I have never met any man who makes me as calm as he does. but he also makes me laugh so hard that I simply forget to breathe.
I do not know why I am worthy of his precious presence. Time with him is sacred. I am not sure when it will end so I will keep on appreciating every little bit of him. I will not shy away from my feelings either. It is fluid. and free.
oh god. is this insanity?
0 notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Text
nīstu.
I’ve just discovered that I am a terrible person. var to rakstīt tikai angliski. tam ir spēks tikai angliski.
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 5 years
Text
a realization just hit me, I had done acid before I had lost my virginity. life is bizzare ha!
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media
katru gadu jāzaudē. var arī nedaudz iegūt. grūti sev atļaut domāt par to un nesabrukt
0 notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Text
vētras pusnakts
ir savādi. sēdēt tumšā istabā pirms vētras, logiem plaši atvērtiem un ar murrājošu kompanjonu skaitīt zibens zibšņus katrā stūrī. ir savādi. būt siltumā, apskautai ar vēju un draudiem, jūtoties drošāk nekā jebkad. ir savādi. kakls man sažņaudzās un iekrīt krūtīs katru reizi, kad gribas kliegt. paliec rāms, tev pretī vētra straujo. mulsi sēdi un vēro. saproti, kur ir tava vieta. mazie kurkulēni uzdzīvo un putni satraukti zūd. mājas. mājas un nekas cits. nekam citam ir jēgas. mājas varbūt kādam ir cilvēki, citam celtne, bet mana apziņa savienojas ar mani pēc pusnakts, Tīnūžu pļavās pie Mazās Juglas. mana apziņa gurdz tik dzīvi un caurejoši kā nekur citur. ir tik silti šajā vējā to palaist. man kaklā rīb pērkons, jo klusēju spiesti. sev neļauju neko kā tikai skatienu. lai nesabrūk. lai neiejūk. mana mīļā vētras pusnakts.
0 notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The colors of march
I’m drunk on the band of pink seen only at the very very beginning of twighlight. I’m starting to skip half of magic hour and stay out half an hour later to get some of that after the sun is down, crisp, cold, blue and pink and white. 
I’m at odds though. When in it I’m marveling, when out I’m like okay, bring on the spring already. though spring here is not particularly photogenic or dramatic it always ignites me with the first signs of storms. god. storm season this year. i can only hope I finally get that tornado shot with the big sensor and all the range of light and dark–which in storms, is extreme. 
We’ve had entirely cloudless skies for 8-9 days running which seems always to happen in late February or early march. it’s a small window when I can make these images and now after many years I’m recognizing that window. 
anyways, it’s as cold and lonely and beautiful as it looks and that’s just fine. 
if all goes well, a month from today I will be on the road to Utah to shift from pinks to reds. from prairie and plains to stone and desert. It’s almost too much. 
2K notes · View notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Text
there is nothing like holding a pen and paper in your hands.
there is nothing like sorting out your thoughts. 
there are less than 48 hours until my birthday. I feel miserable. 
0 notes
othermoondiary · 5 years
Quote
Le but de l'art, le but d'une vie ne peut être que d'accroître la somme de liberté et de responsabilité qui est dans chaque homme et dans le monde.
Albert Camus, Interview à « Demain » - octobre 1957
English :”  The aim of art, the aim of a life can only be to increase the sum of freedom and responsibility to be found in every man and in the world. “Albert Camus
(via causeries-litteraires)
56 notes · View notes
othermoondiary · 6 years
Text
okay.
tonight I just really want to hurt myself. I keep tripping over my words and crying on buses full of people. I want to leave marks and I want this pain to stop. the last time I had an itch this strong.. I won’t. but I feel like dying. I don’t want to be here tonight. I want to let go of my gut, I want to let go of all that hurts, I want to scream at the wind, I want to jump. I feel like being ill. I fully hate my existence today and have been for the last couple of weeks. I am a coward and a disgusting piece of human garbage. fuck.
0 notes
othermoondiary · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
my nod to Edward Steichen 
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
play with fire and get burnt. why the burn smells so good?
1 note · View note
othermoondiary · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
rdmv
0 notes