Eternal Thoughts
- Leituras 878
- Votos 155
- Capítulos 15
Concluída qui, jul 30, 201532m
Have you ever wondered when you are deep in your thoughts you are deep into the never-never land.
A land where everything is so perfect and wholesome. Reality seems like a desert, when you are in the oasis of your dreamland.Thoughts,day-dreams ,imagination, mental pictures are all together interconnected. when you are drowned in pool of your thoughts, there are no problems. No one is even there. Only you and your thoughts, which are eternal. You yourself cannot deny the fact that you are very much secure in your vision you know why? Because' No one is there to harm you.
You have freedom of thoughts. free will of picturing yourself doing anything. but you know what, If you can picture yourself doing anything in life you can actually do that. No power can harm you in your full sentientness then.
thoughts brings resilience in you. But do they actually exist? Do they have any impact on you? Do you feel that you are same person in reality as you are in your thoughtfulness?
Todos os Direitos Reservados
#467
hearttouching
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
My Poetry Escape
I may just be a girl. No one special. Nothing compared to others. In the eyes of the universe, I am just a little speck of dust. My light may not shine very bright, and it may not be of any use, but I am me. Writing is my only escape out of this world. I cry rivers of ink and climb mountains of words. I may not write as well as others, but my writing is just a different style. They're my feelings. I really do hope you can connect to some of the work in here. Please, do not copy any of this work without informing me first. Thank you! "My Escape" I have a supply, In the closet near my bed, Of past memories, Hanging by a thread. A thread, Connected to my mind, That thread, Just follows me around. I have a hole, In the middle of my heart, That hole fills up, When someone's torn apart. I have a tear, Accompanying my lonely eye, Knowing, whenever I'm alone, I can sit in a corner and cry. Even though, These things are there, I still have ink, a notebook, and a pen, To care. I write and write, To my heart's desire, New feelings erupt, By the hour. Writing is, My one escape, In this cruel and careless world, I have the power, to awake. "A Story Without Words" A story told, In a little tune, A golden smile, And a shining tear, Rolling down my cheek. A little breeze, The nice sun, A marvelous day, Turned into a wet one. The memories dripped, Down on my cotton white shirt, Leaving stains, On my malicious heart. Your smile, Worth a thousand words, Can't cheer up This depressive mind. A storm bewildered, Your indecisive mind, Drowning me, In my reckless thoughts. A rainy day, A gleaming lie, A story not told, With words Nor sounds. This story is, But a mere thought, In this universe We share, Every night. This story is, A withering storm, Drifting off, In this careless soul. This story is, Not told with sounds, But a never ending blow, Of swirling emotions, Bottled up inside.Concluída
Walking Into Black
Don't fear death. It does nothing for you. Death is at every turn; the challenge is if you choose to accept it or not. Don't fear pain. Pain is how you learn. Pain is the side-effect of life. If you live life fearing getting hurt...can you truly live life fully? I've felt pain. I've accepted death. I've lived, I've learned, I've drowned a few times. If all I have to show for it is small bundles of letters and words...so be it. That's more than I could have ever hoped for. Everything that means anything to me are just words. You can put anything into words. Anything and everything. You can put death into words. You can put pain into words. You can put fear into words. And I have. And you can read them, if you want. You can learn from them; learn to stop fearing, learn to stop living in the future, behind your mask. But only if you care enough to listen. I speak loud and clear, yet nobody can hear me. I am not hidden, yet nobody can find me. If they even try.Concluída
Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionConcluída
Something Mending -- VOL 1
Of Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength, that exist within time, but lasts forever. Of Sadness, sadness that always returns, Of Trauma, trauma that runs in deep, and the art of dying, every time. Of Scribbles and rambles, unsaid words and sealed pain. Of Life, Love, Pain, Sadness, Trauma. Of the art of rising like a phoenix, every time. Of Anxiety and Paranoia. Of Anything bad, Of Everything good. This is a story of a girl, it's a continuous one. A story of a sad girl, very lonely, but beautiful, intelligent and strong. She's a self sabotaging narcissistic girl, but also a talented, skilled and brave girl. She is riddled with anxiety and depression, but somehow finds ways to get up each morning, thinking of beautiful things. She has loved and lost, hurt and being hurt. She has not lost herself, but she has not find herself either. This is the life of a girl, laid before you in poems and thoughts. Here is a piece of me, and in here, undoubtedly, you will find pieces of yourself too. I am a mess, but aren't we all? | formerly SOMETHING BROKEN |Concluída
Madness
Mind is a wonderful thing.. it's something that makes us-humans, different from one another. We all have a nose,a mouth, two hands, two feet, two eyes, one head-it's the mind inside that head that makes a difference. It's the mind that decides our character, it decides our actions, it defines our life,it's our mind that makes us love or hate something or someone. People aren't all bad or all good.. they have a touch of both but it's the mind that tricks us into loving or hating a person. Most of the times we don't actually love a person, we love the image of the person that our mind creates based on our memories with that person & same goes for the hate as well, we have bad memories with a person, we have a bad image of the person which leads to us hating that particular individual. We don't see people for who they actually are, we don't see the world for what it actually is, we merely see the image of it that our mind has created, the world for us is nothing more than an illusion. Our own personal illusion.. What's funny is that no one's ever going to know your illusion-your world as it is for you.. Despite all of the brilliant illusions that our mind creates, mind itself is the greatest creation of the mother nature. Without mind-this great tool, there would've been no cell phones, no television, no books, no music, no love, no hate, no life. nothing! But in reality, the mind is but a twisted yarn of madness. Yet every mind is great in itself. And didn't they say..? "No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness" -with love, Harika
Life is Liz (LiL, #1)
"Really perfection is only just impossibility." ~~~~ Sometimes I'm happy to be alone. Glad even that I'm able to enjoy me-time in peace. Other times I feel so lonely that I can't breathe without enduring the empty pain in my heart, yearning for another to embrace me, to inhale the scent of his cologne, and for it to lull me into the comfort of tranquility. I yearn for the reassuring warmth of his hug provided by his body heat. I yearn to find he who helps me up when I get beaten down, who fights my demons with me, who pushes me into situations that I fear. Someone who understands, who is always there, who makes me happy again. He who soothes me through his presence only, who laughs with me and at my lame jokes. I long to find the one that can bring me immense joy and I him. He is the person that I doubt I'm able to find. Trigger Warning! 24. 05. 2018 - #4 in #anxietydisorder 30. 05. 2018 - #25 in freementalillness 20. 08. 2020 - #1 in #JugendliteraturConcluída
For My Soul
Everyone says that healing is a personal journey- that you must be self-sufficient and independent... but well- historically that just does not happen. Healing has always been done by or with a community. So, when River and Amelia are constantly pushed together by their friends- as they clash and then work to form a friendship that turns into so much more- what happens when maybe the path to healing is not so simple as ticking off Amelia's self-care checklist, what happens when both Amelia and River find themselves needing each other in more ways than one? Relationships sustain us, but they also destroy us. Can both find the trust that they need to love each other healthily?
A Self-love Story
Bliss. Delight. Contentment. Euphoria. Elation. Joy. Glee. Felicity. Jubilation. These are all words synonymous to the word happiness. But what is true happiness? Happiness is that feeling of butterflies fluttering around in your chest, trying to break out. Happiness is that invisible fluid rushing in your veins, making you shiver in the most wonderful way. Happiness is the force that pulls your cheeks up into the widest smile and makes your eyes twinkle. Happiness makes you light-headed and giddy, it is in fact like alcohol. Well then, I am utterly and completely drunk. When you're happy, everything feels amazing. Even small insignificant things like getting up in the morning. The golden hue of sunlight streaming in through the curtains feels like a soft caress from the hand of a lover. The birds seem to chirp sweetly outside, a melody to which the leaves sway as if mesmerised by their music. The curtains tango with the wind beautifully. Every little thing seems perfect. And that's a word I'd use to describe my life. Perfect. To give you a little introduction about me, let me start by explaining the most important aspects of my life. I have a loving family. There's my sarcastic, yet surprisingly sweet brother, my beautiful mother (both in looks and spirit) and my stern, yet humorous father. I have the best best friend, Charlotte and I have an amazing boyfriend, Theo. I'm quite beautiful and popular too which I'm not saying to brag, I'm just stating the truth. So that is my life. The life of Tia-Jade Garcia. *** What she didn't know was that every high has a low and that the higher you rise, the lower you fall and the more painful that fall is. Follow her story as she loses everybody she ever cared for and thereby her happiness. See her fight all of her demons by herself. Watch her fall in love...with herself because the only person's love you'll always need is yours. This is her self-love story.Concluída
asphyxiate
"Drowning is not the worst part. Lacking the courage to breathe is." No one saw her struggle. No one saw her scars. No one saw her bleeding. No one saw her tears. No one saw her depression. They never realized the deep waters she swam. If only someone would. What if someone did? Completed 11/07-17 ©EscapeYourMiseryConcluída
Thursday
The depths of my mind and dialogue of it all. My thoughts. My fakeness. My lies. My confessions. My Raw mental conversations. My weakness. My complicated life. The nonsense that creeps up in my head when I'm thinking. There is no need to understand. There is no need to feel pity. This is Thursday.
I may just be a girl. No one special. Nothing compared to others. In the eyes of the universe, I am just a little speck of dust. My light may not shine very bright, and it may not be of any use, but I am me. Writing is my only escape out of this world. I cry rivers of ink and climb mountains of words. I may not write as well as others, but my writing is just a different style. They're my feelings. I really do hope you can connect to some of the work in here. Please, do not copy any of this work without informing me first. Thank you! "My Escape" I have a supply, In the closet near my bed, Of past memories, Hanging by a thread. A thread, Connected to my mind, That thread, Just follows me around. I have a hole, In the middle of my heart, That hole fills up, When someone's torn apart. I have a tear, Accompanying my lonely eye, Knowing, whenever I'm alone, I can sit in a corner and cry. Even though, These things are there, I still have ink, a notebook, and a pen, To care. I write and write, To my heart's desire, New feelings erupt, By the hour. Writing is, My one escape, In this cruel and careless world, I have the power, to awake. "A Story Without Words" A story told, In a little tune, A golden smile, And a shining tear, Rolling down my cheek. A little breeze, The nice sun, A marvelous day, Turned into a wet one. The memories dripped, Down on my cotton white shirt, Leaving stains, On my malicious heart. Your smile, Worth a thousand words, Can't cheer up This depressive mind. A storm bewildered, Your indecisive mind, Drowning me, In my reckless thoughts. A rainy day, A gleaming lie, A story not told, With words Nor sounds. This story is, But a mere thought, In this universe We share, Every night. This story is, A withering storm, Drifting off, In this careless soul. This story is, Not told with sounds, But a never ending blow, Of swirling emotions, Bottled up inside.
Mais detalhesDiretrizes de Conteúdo