My deep Thoughts
- Leituras 427
- Votos 21
- Capítulos 69
MaduroEm andamento1h 45m
Última atualização dom, jul 12, 2026
this just a book of me venting and sharing my emotions
I want poeple to understand how I feel what I go through
I can't take it anymore... so hopefully this book will help me and just.. my personal stuff that I'm ok sharing
I don't care if nobody reads it or not but in way I hope their is someone who see my view and feel my pain
Todos os Direitos Reservados
Junte-se a maior comunidade de histórias do mundoTenha recomendações personalizadas, guarde as suas histórias favoritas na sua biblioteca e comente e vote para expandir a sua comunidade.
Talvez você também goste
THAT ONE NIGHT LOVE
It was just one night. One room. No promises. No confessions. Just two people- who should've walked away. But something about the way they looked at each other... The way silence held more meaning than words ever could... Made that night less of a mistake and more of a memory neither body could forget. Now, two years later, they're back. In the same city. Under different names. Carrying the same ache. She has someone new. He almost moved on. But love doesn't always announce itself- sometimes it just lingers. What happens when: - a closed room remembers what the world forced them to forget? - bodies touch again, but hearts hesitate harder? - one mug, one bed, one white shirt brings everything rushing back? "Unfinished things don't die. They wait. In bedrooms like this - with people like us." 🌙 A poetic, slow-burn Hinglish story. Of what was never said, what was never supposed to happen, and what still might - if they dare. Read if you like: ✨ Emotionally mature tension ✨ Silent glances louder than love letters ✨ Bedroom intimacy with poetic restraint ✨ Chapters that feel like old voice notes you never deleted 📌 New Chapters Every day 📍 Instagram + Wattpad Exclusives 💬 Comment "I've been there" if you've ever left a room and still felt touchedConcluída
Release
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.Concluída
Blood in the Margins: a collection of different poems, unfinished potential
FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.Concluída
Resilience
I never planned on telling my story. Truth is, I've spent most of my life holding it in, swallowing the pain, laughing off the shade, putting on a mask when deep down I was fighting battles no one could see. But the older I got, the more I realized silence can eat you alive. And if I don't tell it raw and unfiltered, then who will? This book isn't polished for perfection. It's not sugarcoated, it's not dressed up to make anyone comfortable. It's me, The struggles, the lessons, the laughter, the embarrassing moments, the heartbreaks, the love, the shady comebacks, the nights I thought I wouldn't make it, and the mornings I woke up ready to fight again. I named this book Resilience because that's exactly what my life has been about. No matter how many times I was knocked down by people I loved, by family pressure, by toxic love, by my own mistakes, I got back up. Bruised, maybe. Bitter, sometimes. But never broken. So if you're holding this book, know this is, you're not reading some perfect fairytale. You're stepping into my world. One filled with chaos, comedy, culture, love, and pain that shaped me into the person I am today. And maybe, just maybe, you'll find pieces of yourself in these pages too. This is my story. Raw. Real. Resilient.
A Garden of Dead Things
This book is my life laid bare - a story of pain, loneliness, and mental chaos that most people don't see. It's about the slow, unbearable unravelling of a mind caught in the grips of depression, anxiety, trauma, and heartbreak. There's no sugarcoating here. No fairy tales or hopeful endings. This is a glimpse into what it feels like to be completely lost inside yourself, where every day is a battle to hold on, even when you don't know what you're holding onto anymore. I write about the nights filled with overwhelming silence that screams louder than any words. About the weight of memories and pain so heavy it crushes the light out of your life. This story doesn't shy away from the darkest parts: the thoughts that haunt you, the self-hate that grows quietly, the invisible scars left by emotional abuse and trauma. It's about fighting to survive when it feels like there's nothing left inside you but broken pieces. But more than that, it's about the truth of living with a mind that doesn't always want to be healed, a heart that keeps breaking even when you try to protect it, and a soul that longs for peace but only finds pain. I'm not telling this story for sympathy or comfort. I'm telling it because this is real. Because sometimes, the only way to breathe is to say out loud what hurts the most. If you're tired of pretending everything's okay, if you've ever felt like no one truly understands the storm inside your head, then this book is for you. It's not easy to read - but it's real, and it's mine. Welcome to my garden of dead things.
NOW YOU SEE," THE REAL ME" UNDER MAJOR EDITING
NOW YOU SEE "THE REAL ME" #1 IN THE SERIES OF POETRY BOOKS //SAD POETRY EDITION (under major editing) "My heart was taken by you, broken by you, and now it's in pieces because of you" My poems aren't the best. The first few poems may not seem worthy of being read but... later down in the book they get better. To some, my poems are beautiful; to some, my poems are shitty and they are rubbish💀. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! I can't promise that your time won't be wasted reading this book. I'm not a professional poet so expect the worst. This book isn't for everyone. It's sad, a little motivating and dark. If you aren't into sad poems don't read this book, it isn't for you. This book contains some of my thoughts,mostly about me or the people around me or just society in general. If you are feeling sad or depressed, please seek help. I know how much it hurts but it isn't too late to heal. Cover made on postermywall ♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡ Rankings: #1 in sad poet out of 23 07/25/2021 #2 in deep thought out of 4. 8 K stories 07/25/2021 #2 in thoughts out of 73. 4 K stories 07/25/2021 #3 in sad poems out of 10.1 K stories 07/25/2021 #3 in thoughts and feelings out of 10.1 K stories 07/25/2021 #6 in poet out of 14.3 K stories 07/25/2021 #40 in deep out of 26.6 K stories 07/25/2021 #48 in depressing out of 18. 3 K stories 07/25/2021Concluída
lifieee.talks
This isn't going to be a story. But just a safe place for all of us to share our problems 💘✨ As I begin posting you all will understand what this is going to be about 😌🐤 But I just wanted to say, anything that's been bothering you, drop it in my messages or in the comments (of any post) 💗😪 and I'll read them and make sure, I help you out as much as I can 🌷🌱 And then your problem will be created into a part of this series (Identities won't be revealed unless you want it to, ofcourse) 🐾🐥 I am just doing this because I know we all face tough times out there 🌊🐳 and I myself am no professional. But I always have loved talking. lol. So, why not put it to a good use and also I really don't give terrible solutions so, I figured this would be the best 💕 and also, guys I know a lot of us are afraid of being vulnerable but it is the most beautiful part of being human 🌈💨 A human has emotions, and they're intelligent enough to speak them ⏳👀 They're surrounded by people like their own and as dark as the world might be, humanity, love, empathy, compassion all of these positive things will never seize to exist 💜✨ So, as we go on adding stories to this series I hope it'll help you all out and it will heal us all in some way or the other 💘🕊 Thank you and right now, I won't be posting anything. So, if you have anything you'd like to share drop it in my inbox and I'll read it as soon as I'm free. - loads of love, xoxo - lifieee.
Learning to live beyond survival
Harper grew up in the foster care system, learning early that love could be temporary and anger could feel safer than sadness. By seventeen she was working full-time, surviving on five dollars and self-reliance, while everyone else her age was out living freely. Unlearning Survival is the story of what happens after survival mode stops working. It's about confronting anger, setting boundaries, and learning how to give yourself the care no one else taught you. This story is based on my own lived experiences. Some names, locations, and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved. Certain events are written from memory, which may differ from how others remember them. Every emotion, experience, and truth shared here comes from my perspective from what I lived, felt, and saw. My intention is not to harm or blame anyone, but to give voice to the child I once was and to others who have lived through similar experiences. Thank you for reading my story with kindness and respect. Through honesty and reflection, Harper shares how childhood pain shaped her reactions, her relationships, and her view of love and how she's learning to turn that fire into calm. Her voice is raw but hopeful, revealing that growth isn't about perfection. It's about choosing peace, even when chaos feels familiar. This is a story for anyone who's ever been called "too much," anyone who's had to grow up too soon, and anyone learning that healing isn't pretty but it's possible.Concluída
Save Me From Darkness
Just because my kind are labled as demons - it doesn't mean we are monsters. But I am. I don't want the people I love to suffer. I don't want to feel the pain of rejection. I've spent my life treading the dark waters of the abyss. All I want now is to drink in peace. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I don't want to fall in love. But she makes me feel. She tears down my walls. What is this feeling? "I just want her to smile. Even if it's not meant for me." Warning: this story contains graphic language, voilence, and sexual content. Some may find the abusive language offensive. This story is meant for people 18+ years of age.Concluída
Not me. (2023)
so, I've been struggling for a long time now, and I never told anyone about it. I've never opened up. but I met someone who understands how I feel, and I'm beginning to feel again. I don't know how to do it, but I finally feel I can fight. I've been so exhausted. I'm not better, I'm not sure if i ever will be, but I'm not numb, not entirely. I can't say how I'm feeling, or what i am going to write, but if you want it, it's here. This is for you. For everyone who was made to be the villain by those meant to be by their sides. For everyone with a sensitive heart made to grow strong much too quickly. For everyone who struggles to get out of bed in the morning. For everyone who never could find the words to say why. For everyone who struggles to feel and for everyone who feels too much. For everyone who had to pick themselves back up. For everyone who had to parent themselves. For everyone fighting an invisible battle. For everyone who has been underestimated. For everyone who has to flee to other worlds to cope. For everyone who found other means to silence their voices. For everyone who was silenced. For everyone who was over powered. For everyone who was made to be less. For everyone who had to watch someone else suffer and stay silent. For everyone asking themselves, why? Why would you do this? What did I do? Why is this happening to me? It was never your fault.Concluída
healing is not linear - A Memoir by Frances Edelstein
FINAL VERSION NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0846QJQ86?ref=knfdg_R_twm_yes No one's life is perfect--and mine is no different. On the outside, you might see me as a young woman that was raised in the most perfect life; both parents, an upper-middle-class home, a safe neighborhood. This is all true, yes, but the worst of my struggles were things that many people didn't see: my mental health. In this book, I share all my struggles with my eating disorder, anxiety, depression, and the things that go along with it. My goal in writing this is letting you know that you, the reader, are never alone. There are people like me that care about you, that understand how hard it can be. Hopefully this book with give you clarity about some things you've been dealing with, and maybe give you some peace of mind and directions on how to navigate through these hard times. Please, keep fighting. We need you. Much love!Concluída
"It didn't have to be this way"
There is a world out there where I could have been happy. Where we could have been friends, and you could have benefited from what I know. Unfortunately, we don't live there. This is not a romance novel. Do not think this is a romance. Not all mobile devices will be able to show all the text accurately, as I use fonts as a conveyer of mental health. Warning Every warning you can think of. There will be gore rape torture and what is worse. Also, I make stories by writing the story plot and everything, and rewriting it to fit in the small details. The chapters all the final ones but the story itself has been finished.
At just 13
To the countless women who have survived the invisible cages of domestic abuse, the silent screams echoing in empty rooms, the suffocating sweetness of manipulative love turning to bitter ash. This is for those who have found the strength to break free, to rebuild their lives from the shattered fragments of their past. This is for the daughters and sons who witnessed the darkness, yet found the courage to nurture the seeds of hope in their mothers' hearts. This is for the ones who, felt the insidious creep of control, the slow erosion of self, the chilling isolation that whispers of despair. This is for the women who, against all odds, found the unwavering strength to pick up the pieces, to reclaim their voices, their identities, their futures. This is for the women who dared to escape, to heal, to thrive. To the anchors of my resilience, the embodiment of my enduring hope, and to every woman who has fought for her own freedom, this book is a testament to your immeasurable courage, your unwavering spirit, and your unyielding strength. May it serve as a beacon of light in the darkest of nights, a reminder that even in the deepest shadows, the flame of hope continues to burn. May it inspire you to keep fighting, keep believing, keep rising. Because you are stronger than you know, braver than you imagine, and infinitely more resilient than you ever believed possible. This is for you, for your unyielding spirit and for the future you are forging. May this story be a small contribution to a much-needed conversation, a whisper of solidarity in the face of overwhelming silence, a reminder that you are not alone and that healing is possible. Your fight, your survival, your triumph, inspires me every single day. This book is my tribute to your unwavering strength. This is for you.Concluída
Venting (cause why not)
Welcome to my venting book! U don't have to read, it's actually pretty pointless if u do, it's just me talking abt my issues, what im struggling with, etc etc. Also I can't promise u that I'm not going to delete the book Enjoy!Concluída
Dear Diary: But Seriously, What the Fuck?
I don't blog, just needed a place to vent. Who knows, maybe someone will read it and empathize or sympathize with me. All I know is, we're not alone. No matter how different we look on the outside, we all go through the same bloody bullshit. So this is me, getting all therapeutic and trying to survive this life as a person living with multiple chronic illnesses. And it fucking sucks! Hopefully writing about it will help me see the beauty I know, that still exists in the world, regardless of the pain I am/we are in. xoxoConcluída
From Books I've Never Wrote
𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 <3 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 ! like the title says... this is nothing more than texts/extracts of books that I have never actually wrote. This is mostly a few thoughts or ideas that have spiralled through my head at some stage, and I've then typed them out on my laptop and published them to Wattpad. Feel free to read and give me your thoughts on whatever crap I have written down. Love from eIIoquence xx [highest rankings] #𝟭 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗱 #𝟯 𝗶𝗻 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 #𝟰 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘆𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 #𝟳 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺𝘀Concluída
It was just one night. One room. No promises. No confessions. Just two people- who should've walked away. But something about the way they looked at each other... The way silence held more meaning than words ever could... Made that night less of a mistake and more of a memory neither body could forget. Now, two years later, they're back. In the same city. Under different names. Carrying the same ache. She has someone new. He almost moved on. But love doesn't always announce itself- sometimes it just lingers. What happens when: - a closed room remembers what the world forced them to forget? - bodies touch again, but hearts hesitate harder? - one mug, one bed, one white shirt brings everything rushing back? "Unfinished things don't die. They wait. In bedrooms like this - with people like us." 🌙 A poetic, slow-burn Hinglish story. Of what was never said, what was never supposed to happen, and what still might - if they dare. Read if you like: ✨ Emotionally mature tension ✨ Silent glances louder than love letters ✨ Bedroom intimacy with poetic restraint ✨ Chapters that feel like old voice notes you never deleted 📌 New Chapters Every day 📍 Instagram + Wattpad Exclusives 💬 Comment "I've been there" if you've ever left a room and still felt touched
Mais detalhesDiretrizes de Conteúdo