#latenightwriting

[theloulouge]

Life Lens - Entry 73

Blogging Through Sleepiness Lately, life’s been a bit of a whirlwind for me. My dad handed over one of his businesses to me, which is super exciting but also means I’m swamped with work. But you know what? I’m not giving up on my blog. It’s like my online diary, and I’m determined to keep it going. Funny thing though, as I write this, I’ve dozed off a couple of times. But hey, dedication, right?…

[naomimoorewrites]

Slow Sink

then

While you waste time barking at the moon… I’m dying which, as you know, means I’m dying as well. That is truth, not a perspective. Your fear is understandable, but groundless. We have no choice. Without you I am nothing.

No buts, I will do anything - against any odds - to have more time with you, anything. 

And if you die?

And if I die, I will find you in death. 

How terrible is it to love something that Death can touch. Old beasts have odd hungers. In somnis veritas; in dreams, there is truth. It is okay to be a little broken. 

Today, nothing makes sense. I get flustered, stumble over my words, and misinterpret their signals. 

Focus your attention on the sensations in your chest, your stomach, your shoulders.

Relationships contract and relax, get close and come apart. The more gruelling the struggle, the more spectacular the triumph. Figure out how to live your life being yourself. It’s okay to nurse your wounds, but don’t get stuck in a cycle of self pity. Anger was better than fear. Better than tears and grief, and guilt. 

How can I explain myself? It could all be so simple. But you'd rather make it hard. Loving you is like a battle. We both end up with scars. Tell me who I have to be. 

Let me go. Leave. I keep letting you back in. 

You, precious you. He clasps my cheeks between his hands. How can I explain myself?

Look. As painful as this thing has been, I can't just quit now. I know what I must do: you let go and I'll let go too. Listen, no one has ever hurt me as much as you, and no one ever will. 

When I try to walk away you hurt yourself to make me stay. This is insane. I know you care for me. You said you cared for me. 

No one loves you as much as me, and no one ever will.

now

Sometimes I lose myself. Lose the power to govern my own body. Lose the ability to even care. The loss is never obvious. Explicit. 

It's a slow sink until I'm miles underground. Alone. Left without a ladder. And I have to claw my long way back. And I suppose that's my fault. I should have known. But I didn’t need a ladder on the way down.

Is it to stay tucked away in the belly of the earth? Is it wrong to even wonder? To ask: who makes the decisions? The one who has the answers. That’s obvious I have so many questions 

My ability to answer is hindered by your ability to ask the right questions.

What do you gain from this sick cycle? This perverted carousel. More importantly, what have we lost? What were you willing to lose to be here?

with you             with me

Do you wonder if maybe you gave up too much? Maybe the prize was not worth the sacrifice.

Any part I lost I replaced with bits of you. Your smile was brighter than mine anyways. And what was my laugh worth? Now that I have yours.

There are no pieces of me missing that I can say I miss. I am not an incomplete being. I am better. What is gone has simply been replaced. I am whole, as long as I have you.

He was dead before he hit the floor. The dead are dead. The living grieve. I spent the last ten years expelling demons.

Be mad at me all you want. I am staying by your side.

Men are taught shame from the womb. Men are shown shame and then they are contained, kept in line, in the rigid masculine condition.

Adam was at Eve’s side when the serpent coaxed her into the first bite. Eve’s sin was curiosity. The damnation of women’s inquisitive minds. And man’s first sin? Cowardice. Adam, gardener, protector, stood by and did nothing. Eve curious and Adam cowardly. And from then on, both were casted away into a world of shame.

Who is the God that can deliver you from my hands? Who’s gonna save you?

[calschronicles]

life...

whoever told us how to do life? we take advice from people who have failed at one point or another. sometimes it feels like it's not enough to just live. they say "just live" but...i can't. to live means to let go and follow the path, but i want my own. am i selfish? am i confused? life isn't what we believe. and i'm so scared of that. but that's life...

[amo-ridere]

"Chewed to the Chin" I found out that I can write poems on my phone, so, here's this morbid one. #PoetryTwitter #signatured #morbidpoem #shortpoem #freeverse #writtenonthefly #latenightwriting #poetsofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CooRbMju2Nz/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mistovyee]

When will I stop being that little girl.

[shyofacrescentmoon]

The reality is very blurred. And it is preposterous of me to drag you into my gloom tinted life.

But it is also my selfish act to let you see these gorgeous portraits, colourful vases and ripen fruits, making you believe here awaits you a splendid stay over.

If I am a little humane, I'd have asked you to close the front door and walk away; but, alas, I am the forgotten, forsaken serpent begging and hoping for an ounce of affection.

#latenightwriting #maybemylove #thoughtsspiralling #love #serpent

[livingantique]

all-encompassing

the ache in my chest, the shake in my knees, the gaze in my eye and just when i think i can catch my breath you whisper my name again

your divine existence rocks me to my very core.

☾ solstice a.

[gwenheifnerauthor]

Late night writing session. I havent been writing in a while but I felt some inspiration this evening and decided to sit down to write. #latenight #latenightwriting #nightwriting #inspiration #feelinginspired #writing #working #workinglate #writingbooktwo https://www.instagram.com/p/CZYZ5eZgECa/?utm_medium=tumblr

[prettylittlelyres]

Vogeltje - Update (1st September 2021)

I’ve passed 71,000 words on this polished draft, I have the query ready to send off, and about 5,000 words At Most left to write. I am sleepy and a little achy from working at my laptop for the past six hours with my only movements the walk to the kitchen and back for more coffee, and I am very tempted to leave the last few pages until the proper morning, once I’ve had a little nap.

I really do mean it, now: the end is in sight for this project! If I’m two days behind my (self-imposed so adjustable and therefore easy to ignore, unfortunately) “deadline”, I’ll still be at least as proud of myself and my work as I am right now. Ideally, though, I will be a good deal less achy and an excellent deal less sleepy.

Here, I say goodnight ‘til it be about three hours later (”morrow”), and sign off for the moment, with 71,016 words down and c.5,000 to go.

Happy writing, everyone, and, to those of you participating in September’s PitMad tomorrow, happy pitching!

[karolinium]

i like my early bedtime and early mornings way too much to pull all nighters, but lately i’ve been making the most of the late night motivation and productivity spikes. first one today at 0:05, second one today at 20:30 in my fav library

[amandadavaloswrites]

Last night I had a burst of inspiration and it led to a 2 am writing session. The writing was great until I realized that I had written an entire scene where nobody talked. In my sleep deprived haze I could only think of this moment from the office. #writerslife #earlymorningwriting #latenightwriting #theofficememes #theoffice #jimhalpert #notalking #tuesdaythoughts #ineedcoffee #missingsleep #2amwritings #2amwritingsession #goingtobedearlytonight #writingromance #writingcommunity #writingcommunityofinstagram #writersofinstagram #authorsofinstagram #authorlife https://www.instagram.com/p/CThZ9JRL0tx/?utm_medium=tumblr

[naomimoorewrites]

For Your Amusement

Sour like thrown-up wine, acid on my tongue. It’s the taste that lingers, the kind that leaves a sourness stuck to your teeth. I don’t know why I’m still here, but here I am. Doing the best I can with what God gave me, which isn’t much. Not enough, certainly. But that's all I’ve got.

God takes what it wants. It doesn’t ask. It doesn’t even apologize. I’m not one for religion, but I think I get it now. My body’s not a temple, it’s more like an amusement park - littered with cotton candy and spilled popcorn, noisy, attracting people who are more interested in the cheap thrills than anything that might actually matter. I’ve got roller coasters of anxiety and a ferris wheel of regret, but no one’s coming to my rundown show. And the rides? They keep spinning anyway. No one’s stopping them.

No one’s stopping me. In the dead of night when there is no one around to see me consume consume consume There’s a light in the fridge, so what am I supposed to do? If we’re not supposed to have them, then why is the universe always handing me a little sweet treat, a little moment of distraction? And don’t even get me started on the microwave. You can heat up leftovers, no problem, but you can’t heat up your life. You can’t go back to that thing you screwed up three years ago and fix it. You can’t pop your mistakes into the microwave and hit “reheat.” That’d be nice, though. But if you’ve learned anything from living as long as I have, you’d know that the only thing reheated in this life is disappointment.

I’ve spent enough time staring at my reflection to know that I’m not special. If you had lived my life—if you could somehow do the thing where you get into my head and really feel it, front to back—you wouldn’t dare call me privileged. Or maybe you would, but you’d be wrong. Because the last time I checked, privilege doesn’t come with this kind of exhaustion, with this weight on your chest, with this sneaky voice in your head telling you that you’re nothing, that nothing you do matters. And that’s what I have. A voice. That’s all. The rest is just noise.

So, yeah, maybe I’m privileged. I get to wake up in a bed that’s mine and go to a fridge that’s stocked with food I can eat at 3 AM when the world’s asleep and I’m wide awake with nothing to do except stew in my own thoughts. Privilege doesn’t come with happiness. It comes with expectations. The constant sense that you should be better, do more, try harder. Maybe I’m tired of trying. Maybe I’ve been tired for years.

But I can’t stop, can I? Not now. It’s like being on one of those roller coasters that never ends. I’m strapped in, and the ride just keeps going.

I open my eyes to the same thing every day: the light in the fridge, the dark outside, the same dirty dishes that’ll still be there when I get back. It’s all so fucking predictable.

But if I’ve learned anything from living as long as I have, it’s this: you can hate it, but you can’t stop it. Not really. You can ignore it, numb yourself with whatever’s available - sleep, food, wine, Netflix - consume consume consume. But at the end of the day, it’s just you. And I’m not even sure who that is anymore.

So here I am. Still alive. Still here.

Doing the best I can with what God gave me.

[go-pull-the-trigger]

#5am #cantsleep #depression #latenightwriting https://www.instagram.com/p/B_Jf9qZnwJF/?igshid=16sm5rv3kdv5q

[mistovyee]

A good image is necessary no matter how ugly the reflection in mirror is.

[charcaz]

Self published some of my poems on amazon. There is also a kindle version too. . . #selfpublish #2amthoughts #latenightwriting #poems #poetey #amazon #writer #writing #kindle #peperback #book https://www.instagram.com/p/B7zKtWVnezuRpPuKz655xONbyJ3LO3KrbTN9KA0/?igshid=29evthm4zfwa

[greeneyezthickthighs]

All the stars in the sky

And yet

I’d rather get lost in your blue eyes

One look

And I can feel the waves crashing over me

The stars can wait

-blue like the sea