#wallflowers-diary

[leighbaylee]

[dirtonmyknees]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅. ݁₊ ⊹

don't waste time thinking about what could have been, instead, think about what will be.

kay?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅. ݁₊ ⊹

[afairycreature]

I wish to live in a coming of age movie

[mtdewluvr]

[putyourcigaretteoutonmyback]

if god is real ,

he is cruel .

[grlw0rld]

early autumn morning, slow living

[sugarcookiegirls]

[ikvgai]

[dariasonlinedairy]

welcome to my blog 🎱

; name's daria

; minor

; romanian

; ❤️ : emo, skater, metalhead type of guys, writing in my diary, graffiti, listening to music (especially nu-metal and 90's/00's rap), sometimes drawing n reading, CARSS (when I'll be older I'll get a dark purple porsche), watching yt and abandoning random ass places (+ fashion and doing makeup in general) (p.s: i like skating too)

; dni : old men & basic dni list (i hope those idiots suck my dick)

, that's all, have fun, don't be afraid to give me a message if u find me cool 🎱

xx, 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆.

[afyerarchive]

Phonebooks

a diary entry ● 05/29/2024

Once, I wrote my own obituary.

It was filled with lies entangled by my head at my worst. It gossiped with the snark of everyday life, and the hate boiling in my blood for the people who carelessly and precariously loved me, for there was a list at the footnote of the document.

The list recalled the people who had righted and wronged me in my days. The worst part? It was evenly distributed.

In the days awaiting my closing act, I distributed with agility the people in a manner that undermined the little things, and little mistakes dispelled by the compacted human heart. Addressing my feelings to the wrong senders, I made people into caricatures and phonies of who I wanted them to be for my story.

A few days later, I wrote another obituary.

I noticed how the list had changed at the expense of a single compliment or a single wrongdoing. I couldn't help but realize how this mirrored the everyday in town. The skies, disillusioned, allowed me to meet the "oppressors" again. My compacted heart, unburdened from the dawn, took in the people that had intoxicated me.

Through months of therapy, I came to terms that from the start, the phony was me. The caricatures built from envy and a childhood of ungratefulness were nothing more than mockery of the hand that fed me. The world that I so desperately wanted to be included in, for the good and bad of any weather, grew into one I wanted to hate.

If I could go back to when I wrote that first obituary, I wouldn't stop myself. But I also wouldn't let myself think I was going to die tomorrow.

Somehow, the phony also was not me. The phony, moreover, was the lens I was looking through life with. The magical Schrödinger phenomena of life is the idea of forgiveness—the promise for things to change, despite a recognition of things that won't change.

I can forgive myself for the person I used to be, though I can't easily change the lens of my everyday life. That will change on its own.

Today, I watched someone I valued more than they knew sit up from the seat beside me for the last time. Without a party of closure, the goodbye was rather uncomfortable, and anticlimactic—or, at least, that's what the me today says.

The me tomorrow, and for ever and ever, will be forgiving the lens of life for the moments of discomfort and sorrow. As is life, the little things can be cruel. But that's what makes them little things. When all is said and done, and you zoom out from this instantaneous rate of change of everymoment, you realize that's what makes us human.

Through the discomfort, I found it's time to step outside of my town, and remember that it was her town, too.

Together, I can call our time a community.

[notquitecharlie]

6/27/24

dear friend,

I fucked up again. I spiraled and I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’d gone almost two months without cutting and almost a month without drinking and in one fucking night I cut myself deeper than I ever have and I drank and took a few sleeping pills. I’m hella embarrassed cause I’ve been trying so fucking hard and I just. Idk. I don’t think things will change. Because let’s be honest here. I have two choices. I can either stay with my family and stay as I am or I can leave them and try but it will always be my fault if I leave and my favorite sister is 4 years old. She’s never going to remember me. And if I leave, what the fuck would I be leaving for? Idk. I’m sorry.

love always,

m.

[dirtonmyknees]

‹𝟹 !

[mtdewluvr]

[wreiawrites]

ᯓ⋆౨ Info Dump ৎ˚⟡˖࣪.

⟡ my pen name is wreia, pronounced ray-uh.

⟡ i’m twenty three and my pronouns are she/her.

⟡ i started this blog for the purpose of getting more into reading & writing, while also trying to expand & improve on my writing skills.

⟡ i mostly post whatever i want, however i am open to requests via my ask. i will only do request that i am comfortable with.

⟡ i am also on wattpad under the same user, or click here to be taken directly to my account.

⟡ if you would like to be apart of the taglist please refer to my taglist post!

⟡ i also try to credit sources & content i use such as images/dividers/icons to the best of my abilities. if i can not locate the source it will be said in the description. please let me know if any content i use is your work so i can rightfully give you credit!

…new info is always being added! please check back in frequently if you have any questions or concerns ♡︎

[moonriver0312]

Reading this passage, I suddenly remember a scene from The Perks of Being A Wallflower when Charlie asked Mr. Anderson this because he could not understand why his sister still hung out with her boyfriend despite of his violent behavior.

A Little Life, Part 4, Chapter 1, pg. 381 - Hanya Yanagihara

The Perks of Being A Wallflower (2012) - dir. Stephen Chbosky

[m3ment0-mor1]

we can be heroes just for one day