Latest Posts by lifediaryofann - Page 5
Seal my honey drenched lips, with your petal soft kiss. Place your heaven made palm on my feather dulcet skin. Let them words flow from your poetic mouth, and let them become tattoos on my sacred back. Just like the sea rumbles for the the passionate moon, and so do, i for you.
Anneshwa Paul🌻
🌺🌺
if i was in a jane austen novel i would be the one sent to the seaside for my health
“Was it possible I had something to give? Out of the nothingness that was my life? Really, what the fuck did I have to give? Woman with too many holes in her. And yet there was something. Words.”
— Lidia Yuknavitch, from The Chronology of Water: A Memoir
Your eyes play with my mind, like your fingers on a guitar strings. It creates a blooming symphony, and roots deep in my heart and grows up beyond the clouds.I thought facts don't care about feelings, But these feelings don't give a damn about the facts. My heart keeps waiting for an epiphany, it wants to be a resident of your 'not so vacant house', and wants to make it a home, a Paradise.
Anneshwa Paul
Sometimes my soul drenched in pain and agony cries, cries out loud to hear your voice.
I wish
I wish I wrote the way I thought; Obsessively, Incessantly, With maddening hunger. I’d write to the point of suffocation. I’d write myself into nervouse breakdowns, Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I’d write about you a lot more than I should.
Benedict Smith; “I Wish I Wrote the Way I Thought”
😌💛
“I have a habit of falling in love with souls who have yet to be at peace with their bodies, their minds, their weaknesses. I try to build them, to find the parts of them that are missing in me. I end up with holes in my chest.”
— Farah Gabdon
i knew what i wrote was real when it scared me to write it
Mahmoud Darwish, tr. by Sinan Antoon, from “In The Presence of Absence,”
“If you inherently long for something, become it first. If you want gardens, become the gardener. If you want love, embody love. If you want mental stimulation, change the conversation. If you want peace, exude calmness. If you want to fill your world with artists, begin to paint. If you want to be valued, respect your own time. If you want to live ecstatically, find the ecstasy within yourself. This is how to draw it in, day by day, inch by inch.”
- Victoria Erickson
it is true, we do not know the existence of something, until it is felt in one way or another. the sunset was not known, before its brilliance in crimson, blush, and magenta was seen evolving across someone’s vision. thunder was not feared and hidden from until it was heard booming into a person’s eardrums. sunlight was not warm until it gazed upon a strangers naked skin. and i am forever misunderstood until my words land upon the hearts that need them the most. and what could be more prevailingly real than that.
stay alive.
Not because your mother will cry at your loss but because the sun will come out tomorrow and you will not be there to appreciate it. Stay alive because the path will go somewhere exciting and you will not be able to experience it.
Stay alive because your favourite band might release a new song. Or your favourite series might be renewed for a new season. Stay alive because there are twenty thousand more series to hold you in your gloomy days.
Stay alive.
Not because your father will blame himself his whole life but you have a whole world out there for you to see. Because your coffee mug is sitting there waiting to be filled.
Stay alive because your older self is waiting for you to grow up as a wonderful person your father may not be. Stay alive because all the rights are waiting for you to fix them because nobody but you can do it.
Stay alive because the moon is there for you. The stars in the darkest of night need you to look up and admire them.
stay alive.
Not because your siblings will hold your clothes and remember you but your clothes need you to remove their emptiness. The next burger you are going to eat is waiting for you out there. Stay alive because a part of the air around you is reserved only for you to breathe.
Stay alive because a spot in front of the Eiffel Tower where you are standing needs to be in your album. Your streets are waiting for you to come for a walk with headphones on. Your favourite songs are waiting for you to give them that unmatchable attention.
stay alive.
Not because your lover will lose his/her half, but because of those roses in the garden waiting with love to be plucked for love. For that unwritten parchment that wants to be painted with your affection even if no one ever reads it.
Stay alive for the imaginations you have before your sleep and for the dance under the sky you want. For the days you laughed at your own jokes and the days you could not love yourself more.
Stay alive for your bedroom because it will never be the same without you. For the winds because they will never touch any skin in the same way. For the sky because no one will go crazier as you do seeing it changing colours. For the moon and the stars, you see so adoringly that they shine a little brightly for you. For all the songs who you have given a place in your heart. For all your favourite series you carry with you. For all the clothes you wear daily. For the rays of sun you love on your face and for the life that beats within you.
Stay alive for you.
I love that word. Forever. I love that forever doesn't exist, but we have a word for it anyway, and use it all the time. It's beautiful and doomed.
-Viv Albertine
Simone de Beauvoir ― The Woman Destroyed
Books make me feel like i belong.
They give my mind wings,
and hence i fly.
Warm my heart,
and let my ego melt.
Make me feel all the emotions
that I've never felt.
My partner for warm and cold nights,
helped me twinkle in the darkest times.
Never make me feel lonely,
a friend in disguise,
like the sun under the bright blue sky.
Even when melancholy pours,
so does sadness in my heart.
I keep you close,
you're a part of me.
- Anneshwa
Me : Wow, I'm finally finding my flow. I love this quote, can't believe i wrote it.
Anxiety : Well, well. It's not that great. People think you're just a pretentious writer.
Me : No they don't. I actually write my own feelings, i think they relate to my words.
Anxiety : aww you wish. They hate you, and your art. Your writeups suck and your style is bad.
Me : No it isn't. Is it? IS IT? What if you're right? And what if I'm actually a bad writer. What if people actually think I'm pretentious. Yes anxiety, i guess you're right. Thank you, let me think about it all night, and get back to you.
Something about the way your lips moved when they called out my name. Dew drops from heaven placed on those soft petals. Thunders woke me up turning those drops into hails. All in vain. Just a nightmarish daydream.
Anneshwa
Casted shadows are beautiful until they're casted by your memories, or traumas. Who would dance in the shadows casted by nightmares?
Anneshwa
My art is for myself first, it's a vortex of my complex emotions. I channel my inner thoughts and feelings into it. I try not to let them dominate or paralyze me, instead use them to create something meaningful. So when you see a quote or picture by me, know that it comes from a very vulnerable place but when it goes out it makes me stronger. My art is for you and for all, but first, it's for me.
- Anneshwa
Sometimes i happen to people,
Sometimes people happen to me🌻
-Anneshwa
“I loved you before I was born. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I’ve lived longing for your every look ever since. That longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. And the longing grows as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. That loneliness appeared on earth as this body. And my share of time has been nothing but your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. Your face fleeing my ever kissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing, I am most myself, rapt, my lamp mortal, my light hidden and singing. I give you my blank heart. Please write on it what you wish.”
— Li-Young Lee, from The Undressing: Poems; “I loved you before I was born”
@bhoomisworld 💛
Sa‘id ‘Aql, tr. by Matthew Sorenson and Naomi Shihab Nye, from Modern Arabic Poetry: an anthology; “The Book of Roses”
Somedays i just wanna disappear. Away from everything that i already know, own and have.
Competition kills the joy of the process.
“It feels like rain. And it feels like the rain will feel like love.”
— Don Pomerantz, from “Looking for Love,” Tar River Review (vol. 59, no. 2, Spring 2020)