#sadwriter
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sejal-jadhav · 1 year ago
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" And I kept loving you without you allowing me to"
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natsuzaki · 3 months ago
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"she sat on her bed, recounting her day. she closed her eyes, and a reminder of how she got here, alone and pitiful, streaked across her mind. "we're both moving." they had told her, faces serious and solemn. "oh," she had choked out. every fantasy, daydream and plan they had for the future caught fire in her mind. they had both moved on, while she remained sifting through the ashes. it has been nearly an entire year. she felt her eyes beginning to sting, as she brought her face to her knees. fuck. she was such a baby, crying over people who had most likely forgotten her. but, these tears weren't for them, were they? she had long forgotten their faces and voices. no, these tears were for herself. despair at what she had become. so, she curled into herself further and sobbed into the darkness"
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the-five-oh-first · 1 year ago
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trying to write a fanfiction about Ahsoka and her home planet makes me realize that there isn't a very large vocabulary for togruti words to choose from when needing to write a character who speaks togruti.
time to keyboard smash and figure out which sounds the most like an alien word.
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monster3nergygun · 1 year ago
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I'm alone. I like to lie to myself and say that I don't mind it as much as people think but in truth I'm reminded of my childhood days where I would sit alone in my room, upset that I don't have anyone to play with. I'd ignore the feeling as any kid would and just play with my stuffed rabbit, imagining that we were on some glorious adventure. In a way it's like that now, but instead of imagining I'm out on the ocean or in space, I'm in my bedroom and I had just woken up to the smell of fresh tea that my partner made for me.
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devourthenicethings · 2 years ago
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The Lonesome Birth of Afrielle Fallos
The birth of my first and, hopefully, only child, was rather lonesome.
I had not a soul close to me to aid me, as I had gone late in the night and called for no one. For why? This was my burden to bear alone.
When she left me she did not cry, which a part of me adored. What comfort could I give, when comfort was not sought  to be given at all?
But the rational, motherhood part of me, screamed out. Please, cry, child. Become one with this world and scream. I was begging for doctors and nurses to allow me to hold my child, to please…please. Let me be there for her as she sought to breathe air, to speak and scream and cry as only a human could. As if I could possibly make her? I want to be a proper mother to this child, this being I crafted in my own womb. And I fear I cannot- I cannot be a proper mother, I cannot love the way My Child deserves to be loved. For I am a product of my own mothers savage, and her abuse- generations of me and her may very well delve further and what if I become a very product of the generational abuse I sought to escape?
I did not want this child- but now, that I am not BURDENED but granted her, I shall become what she needs. I will fight for her and love her dearly as a mother OUGHT to. I wish to be the mother for her I did not have.
And as I held her, after what doctors would later deem as a most traumatic birth, I promised these things unto her. I whispered I would be better, would be good only for her. As she so desperately deserved….
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travelwithmestranger · 2 years ago
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And, just how much more can you wait than all your life? Leaving you to experience this thought with a photograph taken on streets of Thimpu (Bhutan), an animation art, some words and a guitar solo (2nd slide 45 seconds). Grab your earphones if you wish to. . . Words, Photograph, Animation, Edits @travelwithmestranger Music: Feeling Fine Musician: @ uncleboris URL: https://icons8.com/music/ . . . . . . #wordsandmusic #waiting #artofwriters #artisticwriters #wordporn #aestheticwords #aestheticwriting #wordphotography #leisurereading #mymusings #vintageaesthetic #picturesandwords #sadthoughts #sadquotes #sadwrites #communityofwriters #inspiringreads #instareads #readstagram #readingcommunity #readerscommunity #readinglife #journalcommunity #bookmarks #poetsandwriters #thirdeyethoughts #spiritualquotes #timequotes #animationart #travelwithmestranger (at Bhutan འབྲུག་རྒྱལ་ཁབ་) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp_Baw4Bb9b/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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xander-arrived · 2 years ago
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Some sad story I was and still am proud of 😌 #writing #sadwriting https://www.instagram.com/p/CmpfrNVy-3l/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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antimnemonic · 4 months ago
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taken out of the mindset needed to sadwrite that last post bc of course i opened up the post editor and at the bottom, among the pictures on my phone, was this stupid pic of aptom
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soleil-in-retrograde · 1 year ago
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silentriser · 9 months ago
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I may be an amateur poet/storytellerBut when I am sadWriting gives me reliefAbove all…….
View On WordPress
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melancholywild · 4 years ago
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Sadness is a close friend of mine. . .
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dymphnadreamer-blog · 7 years ago
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Thoughts that nobody should ever have:
I don't wanna die
I don't
I don't wanna kill myself, that's defeatist and a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
But I also don't actively want to live.
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sadwriterya-blog · 4 years ago
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Do you have that one well i am busy in search of her.... ¿ @sadwriter.ya #poetryofsimplethings #love #loveyourself #loveislove #sadwriter #sadpoems #sadwrites #wordsofwisdom #psychologysays #design #poetrylovers #poetryislife #poetrycommunity #poetrypornFollow us #artofpoets #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #reddit #tiktok #dailyinspiration #dailymotivation #inspiration #beinspired #dailyfeet #dailypost #follow #yummy #poetry #poetryofinstagram #poetryofsimplethings #poemas https://www.instagram.com/p/CCf9bcwsFWg/?igshid=p1h4r9auo9w4
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monster3nergygun · 2 years ago
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Am I ready? I say I'm ready and feel like I am, but, I don't know. Being trans is scary, I want to pass as a guy and be accepted but with that comes the social changes too. I don't think I look forward to my guy friends being comfortable enough to say really out of pocket shit, I'm not ready for women to be terrified of me walking behind them at night, I'm not ready for the social changes I'll face. Not at all. I don't want to be lumpped in with the rest of the men on this planet. But if I don't, then am I truly a boy? Or do I just want to be anyone else but me?
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I just want some. thing.
My body leaked through the seconds, the minutes of the hours I endured. The mornings, afternoons, the evenings. Mornings that greeted me with blinding lights, foreshadowing the universe clogging my contentment. My bed, dragging me deeper and deeper in its sheets, away from the people, the peers, the teachers, the parents. My sadness chained my feet together and pulled on my chest, my ribs tightening to its grip, my stomach pushing for a gasp of the fresh air that surrounds my body. But my head is long gone and I've forgotten how to breathe, how to move, how to think, to desire. My face, pained in purples that reflect the fear, the pain, the wear of the life I have been cursed with. My eyes, permanently swollen to the melancholy nights they had met the night before. My body screams for mercy but my soul rages with agony, with terror, with loneliness. Classes that drag on, people that seem to have lost their importance as my neck is weighed down by the chains of their threats. Never enough, never of importance, never there. Dreams of waves that wash me into the depths of the ocean, into the darkness of the earth's core, into the emptiness of the atmosphere that chokes me into its blankness, into its peace. Doing everything in my power to ignore my mind, to ignore the war that is raging in my head, to ignore the soldiers killed, the bloodshed spilled in the crevices of my corners, the tears that fill my eyes, flow into my throat, choke my lungs and sew my heart shut. After feeling like a rock for months, my sobs sit heavy on my body as I stare into the ceiling, my breaths on occasion escaping the emotions that are suffocating me, the tears that flow like rivers down the sides of my face, burning my skin. Carry me out, carry my casket with strain and remember why I cried, remember why I felt so alone, remember the spirits that sang to my pain, remember the threats, remember the suffering, remember that I didn't choose this, It was given to me.
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blood-quiet · 5 years ago
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