I had no interest in growing up, or in any sort of career at all. But we get pressured to decide, so we pick a career just to pick something to fit in—and to make our teachers, parents, and elders happy. Then we wake up to that hysterical alarm clock fifteen years later and wonder:
Why the hell am I so damn miserable?
Because somewhere along the way, I traded my soul for a salary... and called it a life.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
Why the hell am I so damn miserable?
Because somewhere along the way, I traded my soul for a salary... and called it a life.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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"If you don't know what to pursue in life right now, pursue yourself. Pursue becoming the healthiest, happiest, most healed, most present, most confident version of yourself. Then the right path will reveal itself."
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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Be very patient with yourself. You might feel like you’re missing out & want to rush things which can hinder your creativity. Trust your timing. Take a moment to get clear about your vision & take it one day at a time. You’ll look back & be grateful for it all.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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I don't really feel excited about life anymore.Nothing feels new. Nothing feels like it's for me. Days just come and go— same routine, same emptiness. l used to get excited about small things. A song. A message. A plan for the weekend. Now it's just... flat. Like I'm living, but not feeling much. It's not depression, not exactly.
Just a quiet kind of numbness I can't explain. Like I've outgrown parts of my old self, but the new version hasn't fully arrived yet. I laugh, I show up, I function. But deep down, l'm waiting for something anything-to spark that fire in me again. I miss being genuinely excited. I miss me. But maybe this phase is here to slow me down, to teach me how to breathe again before I run.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
Just a quiet kind of numbness I can't explain. Like I've outgrown parts of my old self, but the new version hasn't fully arrived yet. I laugh, I show up, I function. But deep down, l'm waiting for something anything-to spark that fire in me again. I miss being genuinely excited. I miss me. But maybe this phase is here to slow me down, to teach me how to breathe again before I run.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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I want to be free like the wild beasts of the land, running on sand and dirt, to be held by the sun and the moonlight, under trails of forgotten bones, and campfires far from the city's cries. I want to be free like a tree's falling leaf, ceaselessly caressing calm winds and raging rivers, while being held by time and fate, bearing witness to God's creation away from man's mistakes the gray jungles of rotting concrete, where we built our own prisons, living, or partly living like wounded birds in a gold-plated cage, I want to be free but not like men, whose freedom is a house and a car, shackled to norms and ideas, I want to be free but like a rambling man, an outcast, a pariah, whose freedom are mountains, rivers, and seas.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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We were always told to hide it all,
underneath clenched jaws and trembling little fists. To go through schoolyards and dinner tables with darkened eyes and plastic hearts made of stone. A generation of little boys in suits and ties, grieving something we never had, at the edge of a burial ground - of a childhood spent in buried aches.
All those "look me in the eyes when I talk," all those "boys don't cry" All those words that all men oddly share like the ones before them; turned into unwanted rituals for a silent yet violent manhood, an open door to a madhouse made of tempered glass. Where we all sit together yet sit alone, with clenched jaws and wrinkly, calloused fists, wishing for something we lived yet never felt.
A childhood or a hug; Things we never had, yet things we always miss.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
underneath clenched jaws and trembling little fists. To go through schoolyards and dinner tables with darkened eyes and plastic hearts made of stone. A generation of little boys in suits and ties, grieving something we never had, at the edge of a burial ground - of a childhood spent in buried aches.
All those "look me in the eyes when I talk," all those "boys don't cry" All those words that all men oddly share like the ones before them; turned into unwanted rituals for a silent yet violent manhood, an open door to a madhouse made of tempered glass. Where we all sit together yet sit alone, with clenched jaws and wrinkly, calloused fists, wishing for something we lived yet never felt.
A childhood or a hug; Things we never had, yet things we always miss.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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Inner Dialogue
Pay attention to how you talk to yourself. Often we are critical and demanding. Remind yourself: everything you are is already enough. Replace negative thoughts with positive affirmations. Love and respect yourself — this is the foundation for happiness and harmony in life!
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
Pay attention to how you talk to yourself. Often we are critical and demanding. Remind yourself: everything you are is already enough. Replace negative thoughts with positive affirmations. Love and respect yourself — this is the foundation for happiness and harmony in life!
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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God Says:
Everything that you deserve comes to you at the right time. So be patient and trust the process.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
Everything that you deserve comes to you at the right time. So be patient and trust the process.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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What my hands bleed for isn't gold or a diamond ore, What my hands bleed for isn't God or heaven's door, What my hands bleed for just like Gatsby and the fools of old - is love and love alone. And so every penny I earn, and every house I'll own will never be mine to adore but along with my heart and bleeding hands will always be yours to hold.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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What you have to remember about the past is that it literally DOESN'T exist. It exists ONLY in your mind, your memories. No more real than a daydream is. What you also have to remember is that your memories are most likely not as accurate as you think they are. They are colored by your emotions and how you were feeling and colored by your memory itself. Your mind exaggerates some things and totally forgets other things. Someone else who experienced the exact same thing as you most likely remembers it much differently. Memories are NOT accurate and CANNOT be trusted. We gain our sense of self from our memories. We decide who we are because of our memories. We write a story about our life and tell ourselves that story to form our sense of self. Because the past doesn't exist anymore and what you remember happening probably didn't happen the way you remember at all, you can rewrite it. Rewrite the story you tell about yourself to yourself. Rewrite your personal story and rewrite your past and you rewrite yourself.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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You know they're the one when their presence feels like safety in a world that's never stopped shaking. It's not just the way they look at you it's how they see you. How they stay on the days you can't even stand yourself. How they hold your hand like they're holding your heart …gently, but never letting go. It's in the little things... how they remember the stories you forgot you told, how they never make you feel like too much or not enough. You don't have to earn their love. it's given, every single day, without question. And one random night, maybe while laughing too hard or zoning too much, it hits you... "This is it. This is home. She is her"
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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I used to think love was all about big things ... surprises, strong words, showing off. But then I met someone who showed me that real love is in the little things. The way they listen when you speak. The way they look at you like you're enough, even when you feel broken. The way they stay when life gets hard. With them, I didn't feel like I had to pretend. I didn't have to act strong or happy all the time. I could just be myself, and they still loved me. They were patient with me. They made me feel safe.
And one day, out of nowhere, it hit me... this is what love is supposed to feel like. Calm. Honest. Real. Not perfect ...but true.
If you're still waiting for that kind of love, don't lose hope. The right person will come. And when they do, you'll understand why it never worked with anyone else.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
And one day, out of nowhere, it hit me... this is what love is supposed to feel like. Calm. Honest. Real. Not perfect ...but true.
If you're still waiting for that kind of love, don't lose hope. The right person will come. And when they do, you'll understand why it never worked with anyone else.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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Remember why you started! In moments of doubt and fatigue, it is important to return to your original goals and dreams. They are your compass in the stormy sea of life. Write down your motives and achievements to remind yourself of the path. Every step, even a small one, brings you closer to your dream. Don’t forget: difficulties are temporary, but your goal is eternal!
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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True love isn't always about big words or fancy gifts...it's in the quiet choice someone makes every day to stay with you. It feels safe, because you don't have to question if they'll leave. It feels soft, because even a simple 'Good morning' from them carries real love, not just habit. It feels freeing, because you don't have to beg for their attention ... you're already enough for them. And it feels rare, because in a world full of temptations, they still choose you, again and again.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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I've had to accept that you're not coming back, and it feels like learning how to breathe all over again. I still reach for my phone sometimes, ready to share a piece of my day, before I remember there's no one on the other side. The world keeps moving like nothing happened, but mine feels quieter, heavier, like it lost a color I can't get back. I've gone over every memory, wondering if I could have loved you better, or if we were always meant to end here no matter what l did.People tell me time will heal this, and maybe it will, but healing doesn't erase the fact that I wanted you in all my tomorrows. Letting go feels like forgiving life for not giving me what I begged for, and forgiving myself for holding on so tightly. Even knowing how it ends, I'd still choose you.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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What seems impossible now will become your victory tomorrow. Believe in yourself, set goals, and confidently move towards them. Everything begins with the first step.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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i used to love you as if the world was safe enough to carry tenderness without losing it every smile I expressed, every word I said was proof of how easily I could give myself away after you, something in me closed I stopped reaching for you I stopped touching the world with my kindness now the way I love is in silence buried underneath layers of hesitation now when I speak, my words stumble they trip over one another turn into rambling circles that go nowhere so I choose to be quiet now I think too much about everything the pace of my steps the length of my silences the weight of how I must appear I even measure myself by how others might see me not by who I am I have stopped loving if anything, love still beats louder than ever but i've learned to hide it to keep it locked behind my ribcage to guard it for how dangerous it is you didn't just break my heart you took the part of me that believed love was so safe to share now i am full of feeling but empty with the way I show it.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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I didn't make myself small on purpose. It just felt easier when no one seemed to have room for all of me. My dad didn't say much, so I stopped expecting to be heard. My mom was always tired, so I stopped trying to be seen. If I cried, I was too sensitive. If I pulled away, I was being difficult. They never asked what I needed just made it clear I m should be easier to love. So I learned how to hide it. How to smile when it hurt. How to take up less space before anyone asked me to.
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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"The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them,and what came through them was longing. These things-the beauty, the memory of our own past-are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."
~ C. S. LEWIS
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
~ C. S. LEWIS
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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Often we complicate our lives ourselves with worries and anxieties. Try to worry less about trifles, smile more often at the world around you – a smile attracts positivity! Be true to yourself, follow your desires and dreams. Express gratitude more often to the people and events in your life. And most importantly – be happy every day!
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™✨ 🛒
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs™
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