17.09.20

The uncertainty is killing me. Why do I feel like something really bad is going to happen? I wish it would just get over. I wish I could escape. I’ve been feeling this odd feeling from many days now. I can’t describe it. I want to make rash decisions. I want to do something that I know I don’t want to do. Or at least I think I don’t want to do. At least I believe that I don’t want to do. I’m not sure anymore. I feel really bad, really selfish but I still feel like doing it. Am I inherently a bad person? But I know I won’t do it, I’m not that crazy and I’m not that brave. I thought I couldn’t be impacted so easily by other people, I thought I had stocked up some self esteem but no. All my assumptions were wrong, I feel conflicted and betrayed by my own being. Why am I like this? Why do I do stuff like this? Maybe I’m dramatising it but I’m not sure about anything anymore.

Anyways, I guess today has been weird. I’ll probably not eat dinner but I’ll do some homework. I’ll maybe draw something. Do I think I’m depressed? Probably or probably not. I have the symptoms but I won’t self diagnose. But isn’t that bad, so probably I’m not. I shouldn’t think like that. I feel sort of numb all over again. It’s going to be okay though because it’s familiar and nothing too weird. If it gets worse I might seek help this time. Maybe it’s just the morbs, you know. But no, I don’t feel that it’s the morbs. Maybe I need a break from everything. Even breathing, okay no that wasn’t funny but yeah okay. Cya

A common but usually wrong solution.

Conflicting emotions are dangerous.
Like a skilled surgeon,
bisects every part of you-
slowly yet steadily.

Cut freshly from its bush, a flower.
No time for aging or to wither.
A snake with delusional syrup,
it wheezes, it slithers.
Poisons you, suffocates you
Makes then a puppet out of you.

You repent and pray on the pew-
For the sins you never knew or meant to do.

Your soul; tired and worn out
Two boxers after a match; both knocked out.
This ongoing game of tug-of-war in your head;
You want to stop it, so today you prepare a different bed.

Sweet dreams, sleep tight, goodnight.
Don’t let the bugs bite, which
I’m afaird-
 they might.

---

another old poem

Stupid Game

She carefully wraps a string of purple wool
Around your index finger and pulls.
At first, it feels a little ticklish
A grown woman, but her acts are so impish.
You laugh, a little, hesitantly
And tell her to stop this game immediately.
She looks up and flashes a devious grin.
Pulling tighter, forth dripping from her chin.
Hypnotized, frozen, unable to move
Unable to comprehend, without a clue
Harshly tugging; her maniac laughter –
It echos, it lingers.
You cannot differentiate between the wool and your finger.

---

This a poem which I wrote months ago. Now, I’ll just write and blabber about what is it and other stuff.

This is about a person (or people) who is irritating and manipulative. Basically, the poem is a scene which shows how this person is starting off by just mildly being weird, playing some stupid game of wrapping your finger with a piece of wool. Then it progressively becomes weirder and they tighten the grip of the wool. Your finger turns purple because lack of blood circulation/ oxygen.

The person is also deriving happiness from this, maybe not happiness, pleasure? fun? I dunno? something like that. It can also symbolize suffocation and congestion one feels one when under such people. People who are trying to have you tied to strings and just try to make you a puppet. You are expected to fight back and resist by the others. But, it’s very difficult to go against your puppeteer. Resistance equals pain. Why would you cause more harm to yourself when you can just dance to the music?

You would most definitely want to resist, you would most definitely would like to ‘not be controlled’. Although, when you know it is not going to work out then why make matters worse? Instead one thinks it’s better to conserve one’s energy and work towards their goals.

Many a times it feels almost impossible to cut these people from your life but never impossible. And I know that I will be fully free. Soon.

(sorry, for all the grammatical errors, this is quite a ‘freestyle’ sort of writing. I mean I’m the only one who mostly reads these but still. I would like to apologize to myself too.)

Block

I’m trying to write stuff using the random words generated by this site.

#1

The cumbersome unworldly glow
Of its erratic yet silky flow
which by the current of times
is only just prose that rhymes.

#2

To my grotesque
My most grotesque,
My freaky troll,

Your eyeholes remind me of your soul,
Hollow and void as a bottomless bowl.

(I’ll probably try to continue this later)

TRADE

Tick – tock.
The time walks.
What do I do in this misery?

Plop – plop.
The bodies drop,
Synched with heartbeats, ironically,

Clink – Clink.
The liquid spills.
I drink whatever is left of it, greedily.

Think – think.
The brain shrieks.
To derive pleasure from this is sickly.

Hiss – hiss.
The serpent laughs.
It has now bitten into me.

Sigh – sigh.
I wave goodbye
To peace, calm and sanity.

Hush – hush.
The winds brush,
the scared leaves of the tree to sleep.

Wait – wait.
The soul leaps
away from this piece of satan’s prey.

Help – help.
The body screams?
Or I scream? No this is not me; it can never be.

---

An older poem.

I was just imagining a bunch of scenes and wanted to try to write in a different sort of way. I titled it ‘Trade’ because it’s supposed to be a person’s descent to insanity and/or evil. You know, the whole ‘trading the soul to the devil’ thing. In the end, the person is just a shadow and helpless. I’m not very sure about what it means, this is one of those poems where I didn’t think much and wrote whatever came to my mind. Also, it has this sort of nursery rhyme feel to it.

Morby Junior

As a kid I was really curious about what were the criterions for getting into heaven. And so I started asking my parents and relatives, and they told me all kids go to heaven.

So now I knew when a newborn or a kid dies they are ‘technically’ going to heaven because, of course they’re untouched by the dirty fingers of the world, right?

But then as a kid who really just wanted that eternal jackpot, I wanted to know at what age exactly does one stop going to heaven? After tedious attempts they finally told me that if you died before the age of 12 you could directly go to heaven.

Now this heaven was supposed to be an amazing place where you get unlimited everything. I was unsure why couldn’t we (not-yet-12-year-olds) just kill ourselves and win the lottery. For a long time after I heard the amazing news, the 8 year old me used to begrudgingly mutter to myself while planning my own death, why can’t I just go to heaven?

Well, those sentiments didn’t seem very morbid at that time. But when I look back at it, I understand why I don’t have friends.
Haha, just kidding- I do have friends.
riGhT.

Blog Banners, Logos, Book Covers..

Well, I am not a designer or anything but I like making these little graphics which include Blog Banners, e-Book covers, logos and such.

So If you’d like one, you can comment below. I just have to know a few things. If anything is confusing, just let me know. I’ll try to make it in a day or two.

✥ FORM ✥

❑ Desired dimensions and/or for what purpose? (a ebook cover, social media post or a banner, etc) :

❑ Theme/ colours/ style :

❑ Other specifications :

---

I’ll find some recent examples (these are quite minimalistic but I can do other styles too):

GYST

It is slightly hard but much required
to get rid of some assumptions that we’ve acquired.
We will shed off our old skins,
wriggle out of it and throw it in the bins.
At the same time, we will retain ourselves.
Remember the things we love, but in the past we will not dwell.

We will rise up stronger.
We will rise up wiser.
We will learn to accept our flaws
and learn to love ourselves, without a clause.
We will learn to teach ourselves.
We will learn to steady ourselves.
Collect ourselves
Control ourselves
Console ourselves,
Without the need of someone else.

This change will take time
but this sense of self-awareness was prime.

So brace yourself, unleash your reins.
Dilate and puffen your pupils and veins.
You better get your shit together, son
Because nothing is lost, the race has just begun.

---

This is one of my poems, I wrote for myself while in a confusing phase. I, for the very first of times, like how the poem turned out – considering the conditions.

So, the ‘gist’ of the g.y.s.t. poem is telling myself to ‘get my shit together’.

Mauerbauer-Traurigkeit.

Mauerbauer-Traurigkeit.
n. the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.
(from https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com – there are some really nice words there).

A few days ago I was being really irritable and pitiful too. Feeling all Mauerbauer-Traurigkeit, you know. Pushing away people and having all sorts of morby thoughts of how there’s nobody actually likes me and everybody secretly hates me (and some not so secretly). I felt this urge of just abandoning whatever friendships and such things I have, live alone like a hermit and disconnected.

Well, it maybe a made up word but it really resonated with me when I looked at the meaning. As in, it felt nice to have something to name whatever I was feeling.

I’m much over the feeling of MBT now. People aren’t that hard, some things are just simple but I like to complicate stuff. I felt so ungrateful and bad after I was so accusing and arrogant.

I wish I don’t ever feel MBT but now even if I do, I’ll be okay with it. Once you ‘normalize’ (whatever the hell that is) things, it’s easier to say – okay, that was okay, you’re okay. So yeah, that’s that.

Just a kid who found an interesting word and wanted it to share it. I’m listening to the Strokes nowadays (and right now), they’re goOod. Okay cya.

mean•ing + bit of con•tem•pla•tion

Meaning of got the morbs is ‘ temporary melancholy’. I found this Victorian phrase amusing, therefore I named this website We Got The Morbs.

Right now I’m feeling ‘morby’ but that’s the cycle of life.

Getting the morbs and then getting rid of the morbs and getting the morbs again, and so on.

Some people believe or have this idea that once they do something, or maybe reach their goal in life, or get rid of something, they’ll be able to live ‘happily ever after’. Maybe that’s not true, there’s no Happy Mount we can climb and reach the peak of happiness. So many rotten skulls and bones lie on the way to the happy peak. All these people have lost their lives chasing idealized happiness.

One must realize that true happiness is found internally. Money, success or any other thing can’t guarantee permanent happiness (I mean of course, we all know this. I should think of something original…).

Try to find joy in little things, take care.
Goodbye~