Personalthoughts Stories

✨ Just a bunch of random thoughts I can't speak out, so I choose to write them instead - to read again sometimes, to reintroduce myself to me. To say: this is you, your thoughts, your dreams, your desires... This is You. This is me. And each time I read them, I fall a little more in love with myself. I want to rise again for me, to heal me, to love me. - qalbdriven

At sixteen, looking back on the last three years feels like watching a different version of myself-a boy who was terrified of doing 'too much.' The Boy Who Performed explores the highs of teenage romance and the lows of a situationship that never quite found its footing. From the nerves of a first date to the silence after a final text, this is my account of what it's like to love someone who only ever saw you as a backup plan. "I was so busy ensuring she was comfortable that I had completely forgotten to check if I was happy."

Everyone has there own little stories.

They see my smile, but they never hear the conversations inside my mind. This isn't a perfect love story. It's the story of fear, hope, heartbreak, ambition, healing, and the silent battles we fight every day. Every chapter explores the emotions we hide behind a simple "I'm fine" and the thoughts we rarely have the courage to speak aloud. If you've ever felt lost, overthought everything, questioned your worth, or dreamed of becoming someone stronger despite the pain, this story will feel like looking into a mirror. Sometimes the greatest journey isn't changing the world-it's understanding the person staring back at you.

_________________________________________________________________________ "..𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖?" "You mean physically?" "𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕝.. 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖!" _________________________________________________________________________ Promises are not meant to last forever.. Y̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞t̳̿͟͞ p̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞p̳̿͟͞l̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞ c̳̿͟͞l̳̿͟͞i̳̿͟͞n̳̿͟͞g̳̿͟͞ t̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞ i̳̿͟͞t̳̿͟͞. So is saving people from cruel fate.. But, what use is it if you just keep saving people without knowing who they were? Or what they had done to deserve those fates? Could you save a person who wants to burn? Could you save people who purposely pray for the angels of death, just for them to 𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘? Human life is very interesting.. 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞? A game of.. solving some lives that is gone? _________________________________________________________________________ This is a little detective story, where you are a well known colour-blind detective trying to solve murders, crime and maybe the 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 of yourself. Content Warning : it's in the description. Murder and etc of bad stuff. What did you expect? ಠ⁠,⁠_⁠｣⁠ಠ This story is mine and everything here is made from me, VioletRomer

Poems that will hopefully heal you. Poem that you can relate to In all ways

The Journal of Someone Who Didn't Know What They Wanted

This is just a collection of random poems I've written that I'd like to share <3 Hope you enjoy ♡

These are only random narratives or thoughts written down.

Unsaid words.

⚠️ Existential thoughts | Hopelessness But of course, it'll go away just like it always does. I just need to give it time. It's only a minor inconvenience after all. A brief moment in my life where I'm just being dramatic. It's not that bad, right? ~ Diary entries of an insignificant individual.

Confessions of an Auctionista (And the People That Live in My Head) I logged into a live perfume auction looking for one bottle. Just one. That's the lie every Auctionista tells herself. Now I'm competing with the rich aunties for Prada Candy, cheering when somebody steals six bottles for six dollars, side-eyeing suspicious bidders, and wondering why an auctioneer has suddenly become part of my daily routine. The real problem? I don't go to these auctions alone. I bring the entire committee that lives in my head. There's CEO Madam K trying to keep everybody on budget. Sky, the Virgo investigator, already has screenshots, a binder, and a color-coded timeline. Blaze was forged through fire and has absolutely no patience for foolishness. HER is praying for all of us. Nina has a PhD in Pettiness. Penny is quietly taking notes because she already knows this mess belongs in a book. Apple keeps suggesting bad ideas that somehow sound like fun, and Kitty refuses to let us forget that surviving life doesn't mean we stop being fabulous. Every auction turns into a staff meeting. Every bid becomes a debate. Every "I'm only buying one bottle" turns into a full-blown board meeting that nobody follows the agenda for. Filled with laugh-out-loud moments, unforgettable personalities, and the kind of observations that make you say, "Why is this so true?", Confessions of an Auctionista is a love letter to bargain hunters, perfume lovers, and anyone whose inner voices have ever held a meeting without asking permission. Come on in. The rich aunties are already here. The auction is about to start. And trust me... You don't want to miss this meeting.

Sometimes I look at the sky and think of the planets in the outer space. They all have their own shapes, forms, colors, and attributes. They've decided to be that way, they are appreciated that way, I envy them for it. A rant book thing about myself, I can't decide if this is poetry but it exists.

Weird opinions and thoughts that I have no where else to put. My opinions might be seen as offensive or rude, and I won't judge you for disagreeing. Feel free to discuss a topic with me in the comments.

A collection of poems I wrote. I named it 'Petty, pesemistic poems written in *pencil*.' because: a) I wrote them out in pencil b) they can always be changed or erased, just like people

So here are a bunch of poems that I made, it's up to you if you'll read it or not. ( Please read it🙏) I hope you enjoy it.✌️

Just a bunch of my personal Vocaloid headcanons for each of the Vocaloids and some opinions!! Enjoy!!

Daily diary that aims to showcase the growing stage of the author, 3 years after the universe end its world.

i am just an object.

this diary has nothing to do with movie directing.