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@eunoiaes
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grief isn't beautiful, yes. it's painful, gruesome, all-consuming. however we cannot talk about grief without talking about love, which lies at the very essence of it. grief isn't love's antithesis, but is a testament of it. that doesn't make it less painful, but it is the truth.
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the memory of the internet, especially social media is so short, especially with so many of us desensitised. please do not let these people be forgotten, please remember the brave palestinians.
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to me this is namjoon's greatest message. we don't need to keep chasing for love. if we just exist with love, if we treat ourselves lovingly, love from others will find its way to us. we don't need to look far, as love and human has always been synonymous. we are the love we need
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some people come into your life in such unexpected ways and end up filling a space in your heart that you never even realised was empty, like serendipity. such encounters make me so glad i stayed hopeful all those years, when all i wished for was love; i am loved. i am loved.
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fleabag's "i don't know what to do with all the love i have for her, i don't know where to put it now" and how you never know when its the last time you get to tell someone you love them. and then you're left gazing at the sky, with all that love locked away in your chest forever
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do you ever start crying because how gentle and kind people are? because i do, i tear up every time i see a person with a heart so big their love spreads around
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you exist in other people's hearts. you carve your existence in songs, words, scents. someone thinks of you when they hear a melody in a cafe, they watch the sunset in hopes that you are too. beloved one, simply by existing you are remembered. the traces you left won't disappear.
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little joys of life when filled with despair:
- chocolate is still sweet on my tongue
- sunset on the way home is still beautiful
- music still fills my soul
- there are so many paths waiting to be explored, so much tenderness to witness
- there's still hope. there's always hope.
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softness also requires strength; it requires bravery, kindness, and an overwhelming amount of love. who said being soft is a detriment? you can open your heart to the world and the world will open itself back to you, love will be there to hold you, i promise.
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when mitski said "you're my best friend, now i've no one to tell / how i lost my best friend" and when tamino said "i'm afraid that no amount of fame will ever wash away the shame / of knowing not how to love your only friend"
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being surrounded by kind people and the kind nature fills you with hope, like even when life feels like it's crashing down, the trees and friends will stay, they will stay and so will the warmth they carry. today i choose to carry that hope with me on the way home.
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maybe if we believed that love is always waiting for us just around the corner, then we wouldn't be so hesitant to give away all the love we have stored in our palms
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i wish i could pack all the hugs in the world in a gift box and deliver it to jimin so he's surrounded by warmth and love every single moment
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ever since losing a part of my youth to the pandemic, i've become hyper aware of every last; my last winter spent in my childhood home, my last spring as a student, my last three month summer vacation. as a result, every precious moment turns bittersweet, tainted with nostalgia.
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i used to carry pride in facing all the hardships by myself when i was younger, now i only wish for the courage to ask for help. growing up, ive come to the realisation that i'm not selfless for shouldering everything alone. craving for sympathy isn't weak, it just makes me human
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musings on grief and rebirth
(let's meet when the flowers are in full bloom)
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i wish i could save memories in little bottles or in pages of a book, place them on the back of my mind and pick them up whenever i need. when all you have left of someone is memories, when love is nothing more but withering leaves, i wish i could at least preserve their warmth.
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to my dear friends with the warmest hearts shouldering the coldest of seasons, patiently waiting for sunny spring days to finally bloom, thank you for persevering. thank you for staying alive.
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in a fundamentally flawed society, i'm a firm believer of persevering kindness; on a stranger's gentle offer of a hand when you fall down, an old lady's compliment, sharing a snack, on lifting each other up and refusing to let love fade away, one kind act a day
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happy new year friends, here's to another year we can be a little bit gentler to ourselves and others, a little bit softer around the edges, and unafraid to love. i love you 🫂
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i can't believe we wake up every day to face the horrors yet still find it in us to keep hoping again and again, even when we convince ourselves we're out of hope we still secretly cling onto it, like a flower buried under piles of snow yet still persevering in the face of winter
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turning 22, i only wish for kindness, the courage to be loved, the strength to find joy in loneliness, and the heart to hug all of my selves existing within me. happy birthday, dear sea.
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i've been thinking about how we are shaped by two fundamental elements: selfishness and love. we're born with both ingrained in us, both necessary to survive. in line with the individualistic capitalist ideology, the selfish often overpowers the love. thus the state of the world.
no one is inherently good or bad but everyone is inherently selfish. i will die on this hill
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twinkling watermelon (2023) and the realization that our parents walked through the same path of youth we are going through, the same growing pains, how maybe they looked to their own parents and then thought "i will raise my child differently, with more love."
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"wherever there's hope, there are trials" is the perfect way to describe the fluctuations of life similar to ocean waves. the ships of our life set out the sea, and through our journey we encounter many waves, both as a source of hope and despair, hardships followed by miracles.
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my life philosophy is to be so wholly and unashamedly me that everyone around me feel safe to be themselves
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none of us are clean, we are all accomplices to genocide and cruelty even by bearing witness. the music we listen to, the shows we watch, the money we so easily give isn't clean, all of it is dirty. unless we stop being intentionally ignorant, this world is going to stay dirty.
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i want to believe that at the end of the day love will persevere. against all the oppression and hatred, against all the pain and cruelty, i want to believe that love will emerge victorious. because love is what makes the world go round, because greed wins wars but love wins all.
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heaven on earth is watching the sun setting above the ocean together with people you love. just us, the waves, the moon and the last few rays of sunlight making the world seem softer, gentler
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love wins all; or when love is enough to find joy and vibrance in the darkest of realities, when you look at the world through a lens of love and it shifts your monochrome world into one filled with color, one where love itself is enough to make life perfect, until the very end.
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love, like words, changes meaning over time. the tree we love no longer bears fruit. the name i call you changes as the shape of love shifts, but it isn't any less profound. i wish for the roots of our love to remain, even when the leaves fall and new branches grow. even then.
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what i've learned in my healing journey is that it's a lot of effort and patience. it takes a lot of tears, going through old letters and pictures, it takes facing the past you, having many difficult conversations with them. and then slowly, you start being gentler with yourself.
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happy birthday to dear taehyung who carries the entire celestial body inside him; the stars in his eyes, the moon in his soul, the earth in his hands, the sun in his smile and the whole universe in his heart.
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wild flower's "i do wish me a lovely night", and how despite days with so many mistakes, despite all the remorse for never becoming what i dreamed of, despite the persisting pain; under the light of the mournful moon hung outside the window, i wish happiness for myself tonight.
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a gentle playlist for conversations with your inner child, who deserves to be heard, to be embraced. who was always, always worthy of being loved.
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we are not works in progress because we are not a project to be finished or the means to an end — we are complete as we are today. we are good enough simply by trying to be good. let's stop punishing ourselves for not being our image of perfect. (you're worthy of love as you are)
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dealing with grief has always been difficult for me. but sometimes when i feel under the weather the sun shines a little brighter, and it feels like the sky is looking after me. and perhaps all those longing gazes at the clouds reach them too, in some way. just wishful thinking.
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love can be as simple as the habitual act of splitting a tangerine in half when you see someone approaching you. kindness without thought, it is our instinct to feed each other.
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found family is everything. to find people who are different than you but carry the same loneliness you do. to learn the depths of their soul and their small habits nobody has noticed before. and like a flower that blooms with care, slowly, you become family. it's so, so lovely.
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love is the only thing that doesn't get jaded in the face of time, the only thing that resists change. love might transform, might flow like waves hitting a shore, leaving the impression that it's breaking. but it's never lost. and perhaps we ourselves have been love all along.
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entering 2023 with waymond wang's words engraved into my heart; "please, be kind. especially when we don't know what's going on"
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human connection is so heartwarming. to strike a conversation with a stranger in a coffee shop, all differences overlooked. no names exchanged, just the heart-to-heart connection of heartfelt thoughts. maybe humanity can be as simple as smiling at strangers in coffee shops.
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and that's why grief is complicated, because it's completely subjective. i write poetry about grief because that's how i process it, not to make it beautiful, but to make it real. words are a device i use to surrender, as if to say: "yes, i hurt. but i love, i love so wholly."
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july was pausing to watch sunsets, befriending flowers and finding joy in the simplest of moments
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i wish to be a bearer of hope. i want to sprinkle hope in my words, my touches, my life. but no amount of hope can truly erase despair knocking on my door on days like this, when despite the sunny forecast, i wake up to a cloudy sky. i guess that too is called being a human.
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the sunset carries our memories and love shared in all the sunsets before
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with that said i agree with how romanticizing grief in a way destroys its meaning. we all grieve in different ways, and i most definitely do not have the strength to carry my grief with a sense of pride, a proof that i loved, because grief is a constant source of ache to me.
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whenever someone's genuinely kind to me i feel so warm and fuzzy, i find that to be the most beautiful feeling in the world, their kindness wraps me like a blanket on a winter day. they say humans need water to survive but i think all we need is a bit of kindness
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namjoon, i learned thanks to you why person and love sound similar. you make live to a love.
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i carry my grief with me in the shape of the sky, the clouds that follow me in the morning along the wind that carries your scent, the morning birds singing your songs and the moon giving me your love and light, every night. how can you be truly gone when you are everywhere?
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i was in class and it hit me, how often i think of getting out of this city when it's colored with places that belong to me. how lovely, to enter a room and be welcomed with open arms, accepted in a community. to have a place where you can fit into. it's so lovely, to have a city
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taehyung inspires me to be carefree. to go wherever my heart leads even if i don't know what lies ahead. to be unafraid of failure and simply enjoy the thrill of embarking on something completely new. he makes life seem so jubilant and colorful, like it's worth every moment.
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a writing my dear friend kio wrote before she passed, and some pictures she took. she was always the most talented artist, i was always in awe of her work. she never had the courage to share it so, here's your warmth, my dear, seeping into the rest of the world.
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i don't think bonds can ever break, not completely. they just become a thing of the past, a memory, a slight ache in your chest, but if they existed once they will continue to exist, in a hidden safe inside your mind, a testament of all the love you once carried.
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is there a word for the realisation that everyone around you is also human and are also weakened and weary from the rough winds of the world and hug their pillows to sleep at night because they too feel insecure and vulnerable, no matter how strong they might seem to the sight?
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come back to me as how i interpret is about reaching the conclusion that you are the right person for yourself. there are a million versions of ourselves in a million paths and perhaps there is happiness to be found in each of them, but only if we make ourselves our own home.
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i cannot comprehend how you can wake up in the morning and be completely desentisized to a genocide. its scary how a tiktok video on a singular person passing away can tug on your heartstrings but not the millions who are murdered every day. selective sympathy is so terrifying.
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i wish i wasn't cursed with this awareness of everything slipping away. i failed to realise that adulthood means that the promises of future that grounded my childhood no longer exist. i have to venture out; create my own meaning of normalcy, and it's so scary getting old.
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sometimes books are like journals to me. it's an immersive and introspective experience for both present me to enjoy and future me to look back and recall my thoughts, see how they've evolved. annotating is a way of me becoming a part of the story, and conversing with the author
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i'm learning, to be foolish and awkward and overexcited, i'm learning to love and to love and to love until it's bursting out of my chest, i'm learning to be vulnerable and to let people in, and to let people go. although clumsily, i'm finally learning to be me.
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beginning of april is often bittersweet to me; but perhaps this year more sweet than bitter. hope is something i can always trust to come back to me, and it shows itself over and over again in the moments i least expect. my dear friends, let's embrace the upcoming spring.
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turkey is going through a humanitarian crisis, hundreds of lives are lost by hour and the rest of the world is still deaf to our cries. we beg you, please help our people, please don't turn a blind eye. we need urgent worldwide help, any donation helps. be a human.
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the immediate rush of comfort i feel whenever i put on a ghibli movie, they mean the world to me and a part of my soul will forever exist in them
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there's a bus in our city that has a school, hospital and cemetery as consecutive stops. passing them, for a stirring moment i felt as if i grasped the essence of being. we live in an oxymoron of a world, where life and death exist hand in hand. all that grief, the joy of living.
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the most beautiful thing about being alive is and always has been; love and being loved. to always have that warmth in our hearts for people and places, to have memories packed with radiant smiles. loving is truly the biggest joy, and being loved the biggest blessing. i am alive.
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i wish i could embrace my younger self, who thought she was brave for not letting anyone know my pain, and tell her: there are people in this world waiting to unravel you, there are people aching to embrace you and kiss all your wounds, one by one. that's just how love works.
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go overboard with love. plan grand gestures, send a million texts, hug them for an hour, say you want to be by their side forever. there's no loving too much, love is never too much, it's love and it's beautiful and brilliant and overwhelming. love big and love freely. just love
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i have been seeing a lot of insensitivity here that caused deep hurt, so i wanted to share this.
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the kindness you give will find its way back to you, and it is the one thing that resists the passage of time (your existence means so much to the stranger you smiled at one time years ago) ─ perfect days (2023) dir. wim wenders
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the inner belief of art belonging to the viewer once it's out there and leaving it open to interpretation vs. the writer urge to annotate every single line of my writings to explain why every word is there
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