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Before yesterdayWordmonger

Alive.

12 April 2020 at 16:59

I’ve brooded to long,

Frowning every second.

My face’s

Starting to ache.

Β 

The blood in my vein,

Waiting for a chill,

Freedom

From the dried tears.

Β 

So I open

A bottle of champagne,

A cake decked up,

Red dressing dripping.

Β 

The bump in my head,

From last month’s fall,

The scar on my wrist,

Smiling as I groove

Out of silence.

Β 

The pills

By the bedside,

Bored every hour,

As I grow and heal.

Β 

Grey paint’s fading,

Never realized,

ThatΒ  bright yellow

wallpaper was shining.

Β 

The blanket’s

No longer cold,

Just some

soaked up cries.

Β 

Never knew

The sun’s warm,

Even on a cold morning.

Or surprisingly

My laughter’s

Pretty contagious.

Β 

Never realized,

I was allowed.

To feel alive.

Β 

Β 

Β 

Β 

Noise

4 April 2021 at 03:56

Don’t go on knocking doors,

Begging for chances,

Pulling sad faces.

The water’s dried up,

Back you go,

Success’s pretty low,

For no buckets enough,

to stop this river’s flow.

This house was warm,

With Chocolate fountain,

Future looking bright,

And now you return,

Hoping for lights,

In silence.

The cocoa you stole,

I learnt

Wasn’t important after all,

Tomorrow’s still glowing,

The light was inside all along.

Stop selling dreams,

Grass’s never greener,

Until I start healing.

So move along,

Let me grow.

Yeah I hear your words,

Crafty with rhymes,

But the tricks old this time,

For I found comfort in silence.

Do not come knocking,

With your noisy little backpack.

amyspenblog

Noise

4 April 2021 at 03:56

Don’t go on knocking doors,

Begging for chances,

Pulling sad faces.

The water’s dried up,

Back you go,

Success’s pretty low,

For no buckets enough,

to stop this river’s flow.

This house was warm,

With Chocolate fountain,

Future looking bright,

And now you return,

Hoping for lights,

In silence.

The cocoa you stole,

I learnt

Wasn’t important after all,

Tomorrow’s still glowing,

The light was inside all along.

Stop selling dreams,

Grass’s never greener,

Until I start healing.

So move along,

Let me grow.

Yeah I hear your words,

Crafty with rhymes,

But the tricks old this time,

For I found comfort in silence.

Do not come knocking,

With your noisy little backpack.

3 am Rambles (4)

28 January 2021 at 16:11

I often wonder if I’m lying to the people who care about me, or am I choosing to even lie to myself.

Why am I the way I am? Unnecessarily complicating every aspect of my presence. Nothing awful has really happened in my life, with an pretty ordinary life I should have been grateful, contended and happier. I have always found ways to make everything better. Hobbies help, people do too. If you set your mind everything looks bright but when you don’t even the sun looks a little dull.

What scares me the most is how good I am at driving everyone away. It’s an excellent talent that I have acquired, slowly mastering the art. To be honest it’s not too difficult to built a wall around, just some silence would do the job for people tend to give up. Give up on being the only voice in an conversation.

Is it fair though? I wonder. For never letting out the screams while expecting a helping hand. or Ruining someone’s peaceful afternoon by my untimely noises. Is it fair to wish for a constant motivation to go on?

amyspenblog

3 am Rambles (4)

28 January 2021 at 16:11

I often wonder if I’m lying to the people who care about me, or am I choosing to even lie to myself.

Why am I the way I am? Unnecessarily complicating every aspect of my presence. Nothing awful has really happened in my life, with an pretty ordinary life I should have been grateful, contended and happier. I have always found ways to make everything better. Hobbies help, people do too. If you set your mind everything looks bright but when you don’t even the sun looks a little dull.

What scares me the most is how good I am at driving everyone away. It’s an excellent talent that I have acquired, slowly mastering the art. To be honest it’s not too difficult to built a wall around, just some silence would do the job for people tend to give up. Give up on being the only voice in an conversation.

Is it fair though? I wonder. For never letting out the screams while expecting a helping hand. or Ruining someone’s peaceful afternoon by my untimely noises. Is it fair to wish for a constant motivation to go on?

Be Stupid( 3am Rambles)

13 November 2020 at 18:16

I just finished a 20-minute video of Vir Das talking about the importance of stupidity in our lives. Out of all the statements floating around telling about the different ways of making your life worth on this planet, being stupid is that one thing that got engraved in my brain.

All our lives we have been taught how to mature, how to toughen up, be the girl or be the man, no one really taught us about how to be you. I know this might sound like a boring 30-minute lecture while your eyes slyly look for the minute hands on your watch hoping to be free or I might sound like a never ending book, but so does everyone else asking you to be something that you are not. Β Don’t be so sensitive, don’t speak up, don’t cry, don’t ask questions, don’t be stressed/chilled, the don’ts are the only thing that this society has gifted us. It’s easy to be stuck inside the trap. It’s easy to bottle up all the emotions flooding inside your veins, to pretend like the pain in your chest never breathes outside the closet that you build for yourself. The tough part is to let go.

I have heard millions of speeches telling money doesn’t matter. Oh well it’s life, money always matters. But the importance of time, well if not matter more, it needs to co-exist with all the things waiting to be acknowledged in your checklist. Time is that one taken for granted friend that waits for you all day long, waiting for conversations, for a hug, a smile and all you do is send Happy New Year texts. Time is that dejected friend who leaves you when he realizes he’s at the level 0 and you are swimming in the clouds. Time is that friend whom you wish to call, hug and share a chocolate with but it’s too late now.

Being stupid does not mean to go stop everything that you are doing and go back being a child. What it really means is to keep that child alive in you. It means to grow into the hero you wanted to be a lifetime ago.

The society that we so badly want to fit in doesn’t really care how your cheeks flush red when you smile or how your heart pains when someone leaves you alone, they never cared. Stop wasting time trying to seduce the hearts of others, try something different. I know it’s easy to write long paragraphs rather than actually doing it. But it has to start at some point, I believe no effort is too small. From blogs to the heart, good things do really stick with you.

amyspenblog

Be Stupid( 3am Rambles)

13 November 2020 at 18:16

I just finished a 20-minute video of Vir Das talking about the importance of stupidity in our lives. Out of all the statements floating around telling about the different ways of making your life worth on this planet, being stupid is that one thing that got engraved in my brain.

All our lives we have been taught how to mature, how to toughen up, be the girl or be the man, no one really taught us about how to be you. I know this might sound like a boring 30-minute lecture while your eyes slyly look for the minute hands on your watch hoping to be free or I might sound like a never ending book, but so does everyone else asking you to be something that you are not. Β Don’t be so sensitive, don’t speak up, don’t cry, don’t ask questions, don’t be stressed/chilled, the don’ts are the only thing that this society has gifted us. It’s easy to be stuck inside the trap. It’s easy to bottle up all the emotions flooding inside your veins, to pretend like the pain in your chest never breathes outside the closet that you build for yourself. The tough part is to let go.

I have heard millions of speeches telling money doesn’t matter. Oh well it’s life, money always matters. But the importance of time, well if not matter more, it needs to co-exist with all the things waiting to be acknowledged in your checklist. Time is that one taken for granted friend that waits for you all day long, waiting for conversations, for a hug, a smile and all you do is send Happy New Year texts. Time is that dejected friend who leaves you when he realizes he’s at the level 0 and you are swimming in the clouds. Time is that friend whom you wish to call, hug and share a chocolate with but it’s too late now.

Being stupid does not mean to go stop everything that you are doing and go back being a child. What it really means is to keep that child alive in you. It means to grow into the hero you wanted to be a lifetime ago.

The society that we so badly want to fit in doesn’t really care how your cheeks flush red when you smile or how your heart pains when someone leaves you alone, they never cared. Stop wasting time trying to seduce the hearts of others, try something different. I know it’s easy to write long paragraphs rather than actually doing it. But it has to start at some point, I believe no effort is too small. From blogs to the heart, good things do really stick with you.

#happiness, #life, #writing

Calmness

20 July 2020 at 17:36

The sunlight’s too bright,

My mood’s a bit trashy,

my nail’s chipped,

eyeliner’s flowing,

remembering

the comforting light.

Tomorrow I’ll be perfect,

Blushing under the

Blooming spring.

Blue nail paint,

And glitter on my eyelid,

Trying to forget,

The helpless nights.

The viscous cycle,

Following my shadows,

From breakfast muffins,

To goodnight kisses,

Keeping up

With my schedule,

Without fail.

Today I deal

with the cracks,

the flared up anxiety,

and ruined days.

Blaming

The wandering mind.

I manage to drift along.

For tomorrow,

I’ll be calmer,

Cracking lame jokes,

Feeling lighter.

I’ll wake up,

Enjoying

the bright sunlight.

amyspenblog

3 am Rambles(2)

20 July 2020 at 17:27

I wonder when does it get easier?

As long as I can remember I have struggled with loneliness. Be it inside my tiny room or outside in the mall, my friends laughing around or the silent nights. Loneliness has always somehow accompanied me, following me through all my ups and down. Like a friend that I have always desired.

I wonder when does it feels okay?

I had always blamed myself. Hated my sensitivity, the way my brain works. I wanted to change every single atom of my body or rip it apart. Later realizing I am proud of what I have become. I realized it’s okay to be imperfect.

As long as I can remember I have always been floating around, disbelieving myself and those who surround me. I have always been afraid to latch on to someone for comfort. It seems like a never ending battle where the only soldier from my castle is me. It feels like aΒ  melancholic background music being played while I walk, laugh or shiver.

I wonder if this is all I got?

I have always heard about letting it out, accepting everyone with open arms sharing the downs that tear you apart. But what happens when people move on? When the help you once received disappears into thin air. What happens when people change and you don’t? When the plans you make feels dead for the livelinessΒ  followed those who left this drowning ship.

I know it’s selfish to want a shoulder while the water rises but I’m only human. Sometimes I can’t help but let my memories consume me within.Β  I can’t help but to feel helpless as I lie down, hoping that it’ll pass.

It’s a lie that you don’t have to alone.

The truth is maybe you have to be fine with it,

Eventually.

Β 

amyspenblog

Calmness

20 July 2020 at 17:36

The sunlight’s too bright,

My mood’s a bit trashy,

my nail’s chipped,

eyeliner’s flowing,

remembering

the comforting light.

Tomorrow I’ll be perfect,

Blushing under the

Blooming spring.

Blue nail paint,

And glitter on my eyelid,

Trying to forget,

The helpless nights.

The viscous cycle,

Following my shadows,

From breakfast muffins,

To goodnight kisses,

Keeping up

With my schedule,

Without fail.

Today I deal

with the cracks,

the flared up anxiety,

and ruined days.

Blaming

The wandering mind.

I manage to drift along.

For tomorrow,

I’ll be calmer,

Cracking lame jokes,

Feeling lighter.

I’ll wake up,

Enjoying

the bright sunlight.

3 am Rambles(2)

20 July 2020 at 17:27

I wonder when does it get easier?

As long as I can remember I have struggled with loneliness. Be it inside my tiny room or outside in the mall, my friends laughing around or the silent nights. Loneliness has always somehow accompanied me, following me through all my ups and down. Like a friend that I have always desired.

I wonder when does it feels okay?

I had always blamed myself. Hated my sensitivity, the way my brain works. I wanted to change every single atom of my body or rip it apart. Later realizing I am proud of what I have become. I realized it’s okay to be imperfect.

As long as I can remember I have always been floating around, disbelieving myself and those who surround me. I have always been afraid to latch on to someone for comfort. It seems like a never ending battle where the only soldier from my castle is me. It feels like aΒ  melancholic background music being played while I walk, laugh or shiver.

I wonder if this is all I got?

I have always heard about letting it out, accepting everyone with open arms sharing the downs that tear you apart. But what happens when people move on? When the help you once received disappears into thin air. What happens when people change and you don’t? When the plans you make feels dead for the livelinessΒ  followed those who left this drowning ship.

I know it’s selfish to want a shoulder while the water rises but I’m only human. Sometimes I can’t help but let my memories consume me within.Β  I can’t help but to feel helpless as I lie down, hoping that it’ll pass.

It’s a lie that you don’t have to alone.

The truth is maybe you have to be fine with it,

Eventually.

Β 

3 am Rambles. (1)

15 July 2020 at 18:18

I can’t sleep at night,

Not because that sadness has overcome my calmness or that the miserable emotions swell up every time I try to close my eyes. It’s just an side effect of the thoughts that find a way to process only @3 am. When the world sleeps, it feels calm, serene and peaceful. The music in my ears is crisp without anyone yelling at the background, the air has a slight chill, as if it’s trying to communicate.

It’s funny how I used to be sacred of the β€œ3 am” thanks to the horror movies that never made be realize the gift of this hour. The power of the cold nights were hidden from this naive mind until it didn’t matter anymore.

I guess life’s pretty much the same, there are things that matter or at least used to and then one fine day they no longer affect you. It can be as simple as the 3 am terror or as complicated as a major life issue.

One morning you just know how to deal with it, the fight is miraculously over and we end up with the memories of the struggle as a victory cup and the next game begins right away. For life never stops throwing lemons at you.

I believe you can’t fully understand what’s exactly going around, at least I can’t. But I guess that’s the point of all the uncertainty that revolves around us; the journey itself is a lifetime of understanding it all.

amyspenblog

It’s all that I can manage.

15 July 2020 at 17:41

I feel the end,

Lingering around,

Sneaking around,

Waiting patiently,

For me to crumble.

Β 

But all I do is smile,

It’s all that I can manage,

With the messy roads,

And messy destinations.

I walk silently

Into the abyss.

Β 

Days crawl along,

Accompanying the loneliness,

Accompanying the madness,

Until the land ends

And the water

Is all that is left.

Β 

I feel the cold,

The warmth of my breath,

The rhythm in my veins,

The rhythm in my heart,

I feel it all,

Through the rocky roads

The downhills,

Or to the peak of eternity.

Β 

I feel it all,

No matter what,

For it’s all

That I can manage.

Β 

Β 

amyspenblog

3 am Rambles. (1)

15 July 2020 at 18:18

I can’t sleep at night,

Not because that sadness has overcome my calmness or that the miserable emotions swell up every time I try to close my eyes. It’s just an side effect of the thoughts that find a way to process only @3 am. When the world sleeps, it feels calm, serene and peaceful. The music in my ears is crisp without anyone yelling at the background, the air has a slight chill, as if it’s trying to communicate.

It’s funny how I used to be sacred of the β€œ3 am” thanks to the horror movies that never made be realize the gift of this hour. The power of the cold nights were hidden from this naive mind until it didn’t matter anymore.

I guess life’s pretty much the same, there are things that matter or at least used to and then one fine day they no longer affect you. It can be as simple as the 3 am terror or as complicated as a major life issue.

One morning you just know how to deal with it, the fight is miraculously over and we end up with the memories of the struggle as a victory cup and the next game begins right away. For life never stops throwing lemons at you.

I believe you can’t fully understand what’s exactly going around, at least I can’t. But I guess that’s the point of all the uncertainty that revolves around us; the journey itself is a lifetime of understanding it all.

It’s all that I can manage.

15 July 2020 at 17:41

I feel the end,

Lingering around,

Sneaking around,

Waiting patiently,

For me to crumble.

Β 

But all I do is smile,

It’s all that I can manage,

With the messy roads,

And messy destinations.

I walk silently

Into the abyss.

Β 

Days crawl along,

Accompanying the loneliness,

Accompanying the madness,

Until the land ends

And the water

Is all that is left.

Β 

I feel the cold,

The warmth of my breath,

The rhythm in my veins,

The rhythm in my heart,

I feel it all,

Through the rocky roads

The downhills,

Or to the peak of eternity.

Β 

I feel it all,

No matter what,

For it’s all

That I can manage.

Β 

Β 

Too late

19 June 2020 at 17:36

They say I’m too little,

For a change that I desire,

Too shy for a rebel.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already swimming,

In a pool of fire.

Burning in rage.

Β 

They say I’ve changed,

Drifting from sanity,

Stumbling already.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already a queen,

Among the blind,

Hearing the saga

Of their cries.

Β 

They say I should paint,

A stroke of dust on my face,

To hide my unpredictability.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already in love,

With tainted eyes,

Freckled skin and

Bleeding veins.

Β 

They say I am doomed,

Won’t survive long,

Disintegrating into dust.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already seen the void,

Survived the war,

Befriended the ants

Crawling on me as

I lie on the ground.

amyspenblog

Too late

19 June 2020 at 17:36

They say I’m too little,

For a change that I desire,

Too shy for a rebel.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already swimming,

In a pool of fire.

Burning in rage.

Β 

They say I’ve changed,

Drifting from sanity,

Stumbling already.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already a queen,

Among the blind,

Hearing the saga

Of their cries.

Β 

They say I should paint,

A stroke of dust on my face,

To hide my unpredictability.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already in love,

With tainted eyes,

Freckled skin and

Bleeding veins.

Β 

They say I am doomed,

Won’t survive long,

Disintegrating into dust.

Β 

Too late I say,

Already seen the void,

Survived the war,

Befriended the ants

Crawling on me as

I lie on the ground.

Mental Health.

16 June 2020 at 14:59

It’s a sad reality

That someone’s pain

Reminded people

Of the word Mental Health.

Β 

It’s unfortunate that

A death made the headlines,

millions of stories on Instagram.

While the cries are hushed,

And the stories unheard.

Β 

It’s disappointing,

That the DMs

That are open now,

Remained shut for ages.

Β 

It’s painful,

To see people wanting to help now,

Are the same who said

Don’t make a big deal out of it,

Don’t force your sadness on us,

Don’t overreact.

It’s just the hormones speaking.

Β 

It’s unfair,

That a family has to be destroyed,

For others to know the

The importance of togetherness.

A death and a lost battle

made people realize

that Depression is real.

Β 

It’s unacceptable

That a person’s demise,

Ultimately spreads the message.

And ashes of the gone,

Has to become a symbol

Of hope and life.

Β 

Β 

amyspenblog

Mental Health.

16 June 2020 at 14:59

It’s a sad reality

That someone’s pain

Reminded people

Of the word Mental Health.

Β 

It’s unfortunate that

A death made the headlines,

millions of stories on Instagram.

While the cries are hushed,

And the stories unheard.

Β 

It’s disappointing,

That the DMs

That are open now,

Remained shut for ages.

Β 

It’s painful,

To see people wanting to help now,

Are the same who said

Don’t make a big deal out of it,

Don’t force your sadness on us,

Don’t overreact.

It’s just the hormones speaking.

Β 

It’s unfair,

That a family has to be destroyed,

For others to know the

The importance of togetherness.

A death and a lost battle

made people realize

that Depression is real.

Β 

It’s unacceptable

That a person’s demise,

Ultimately spreads the message.

And ashes of the gone,

Has to become a symbol

Of hope and life.

Β 

Β 

❌