#romanticisation

this is that time of the year when I feel excited by default. sure, diwali is coming and it’s slowly getting colder (I like winters) but it’s no big deal. I stay locked inside my home on diwali because I’m asthmatic and people burn firecrackers outside, but there’s something in the air. i dont think its an India thing because I can tell the other north hemisphere people feel stuff too. All these posts about lore shit going down in sept-feb period. why is it that way? regardless im a kind of anxious that is happy but at the same time wistful. weird ass feeling.

it feels like scaring me by cleopatrick and shy away by twenty one pilots at the same time. were these songs released during this period of time? im not sure.

anyway, im permanently excited with no end to it or place to apply it to. this period of time feels like youre meant to fall in love with someone, have the best hang of your life, have a massive fight with your parents that ends with all of you having a deeper understanding of each other. all that drama you can think of but WARMTH at the end of the day….. do you get it

i will use this place more i promise. theres also the realisation that the reason i cant write like i used to when i was in school, is because there are no clear limitations. school articles and essays used to have set topics that you had to work on and you had to show it to others, possibly even read it out aloud. that was missing in journalling and scribbling in notes app. i hope i can get good, guiding limitations back. here.

accidental ink ombré from mixing pilot pink with schneider rose

I sorta grew up watching SpongeBob, but my parents banned it early on. So it didn’t have a huge influence on my life. But something about it. My brain just romanticises it. I sorta know why. My friends all watched it. They like it. I like my friends, so I have to like it too. But now I’m like obsessed with those little fish men and I want to plaster them everywhere. Idk. It’s just what I’m thinking about

You all rn

The First Ache

No one warns you that the first time your heart finds its voice, it won’t know how to stop speaking even after the person is gone.

You think you’ve stumbled upon something eternal, a hush in the chaos, a warmth your skin had never known. You never expected it to come wearing ordinary clothes, speaking casually, making you laugh over things you can’t even remember now. But it came. And it stayed. And then it didn’t.

And now you’re left with the echo.

There’s a violence in how memory softens the edges, how it turns the mundane into myth. You begin to see things that were never said, signs that were never given. You trace every word backwards, every look, every silence, as if meaning could be uncovered in the ruins. You play the film again and again, even when it starts to burn.

And it always burns.

No one talks about how, in your twenties, love can feel like the answer to questions you hadn’t yet learned how to ask. How someone’s presence can feel like home, even when it was never yours to keep. How the leaving is never sudden, but always feels that way. How missing someone becomes your part-time job.

You feed the ache with old photographs, imagined meanings, conversations you rewrite in your head. You build a cathedral out of what was barely a room. You kneel in it. You pray to what it could have been.

But slowly, life starts to happen again. And the cathedral starts to crack.

You remember, maybe not all at once, but in fragments. You remember how heavy it felt sometimes. How lonely you still were, even when they were near. You remember that it was never the whole story. Just the beginning.

And beginnings always lie a little.

Still, no one talks about how deep the first goodbye sinks. How it lives in your bones. How it softens you and hardens you at once. How, long after, you still carry the name like a whisper you don’t say aloud.

Not because you want them back. But because, for a moment, you had finally felt seen.

And some part of you is still staring back, waiting to be seen again.

I cannot stress enough how much you do not have to change your life in order to romanticise it. Yes, work on yourself, practise self care, do fun things, put yourself out there. But you do not have to have the picture perfect life in order to be the main character of your own story. My house is pretty fucking boring, ugly at points, and my entire goddamn family is there at all times. but then I was like actually, this is just like in little women where they have all these chaotic sisters in one place and they have the average home for their time. I grew up a total loser, got bullied, have autistic girl trauma, etc. aren’t all the cool main characters social outcasts anyways? Romanticisation isn’t a change or a lifestyle, it’s just a different lense.

ooooh i know i say this for basically every movie related question but truly. from the bottom of my heart. just. a ghibli movie. just hits every and all spots. and the thing with this is that personally it’s really truly not that hard to achieve this dream of mine!!!!! i think if you watch closely enough a lot of the stuff people like about ghibli movies and the stuff in them are right in front of us a lot of the time (not talking about witches and forest spirits etc) — the scenery, the detail, the kindness, the atmosphere.

I spent like maybe 2 years pining over these things and I still do!!! but I think what I found is like. every thing is right next to me. this might just be the case for me because the things I dream about are very mundane but like. the tree outside standing tall in the sunlight is what i daydreamed about in the car yesterday, imagining one of the scenes from ‘when marnie was there’. the random mini flower field stuck in the middle of the cement, that’s the same as the huge one that made me cry of comfort last week during ‘howl’s moving castle’. the sun’s hitting the pavement just as beautifully as during the climax of ‘the secret world of arrietty’.

and sure yeah I’m not saying the world is as dreamy and beautiful and kind as ghibli movies but like. do you know grave of the fireflies? movie about war and grief and dying and terrible things like that. yeah the storyline is absolutely gripping which is why people love it but so are the visuals and details (as the usual ghibli qualities have). not saying to ignore all the shit given to us, please fucking don’t do that I’m begging you, but look around. there’s still hope somewhere out there.

i think that’s it. something like romanticising life but not quite that. honestly i’ve been thinking and i don’t think there is any life to romanticise. it’s already as romantic as can be. when people use the word romanticise i think it is just another synonym for seeing, noticing. you’re not putting rose coloured glasses on, you’re just talking off the blindfold. that’s all! that’s what ghibli movies help us see i think!!

Something about listening to one direction on a bus ride on a rainy day

my lovelys <3

idk if we can romanticize our way outa this one boys :(

theres a certain romance that comes with writing, and how the noting of small insignificant details is such a lovely part of a description. makes them seem so magical, and i just love noticing small pieces of life that can be so easily moulded into a lovely moment of life

current vibe: a single voice softly singing from a lone radio box in the middle of a sleeping caravan park. the sky is streaked with soft orange as the sun starts to make its daily climb. the only person awake slowly packs away their van. they will be gone by the time the park wakes up. it is cold. it is peaceful. i can’t make out the words of the song, but the melody is sweet. haunting. the birds join in. the sun climbs higher.

∿ trying to romanticize school ⊹ ( ◞‸◟✼)

I like to romanticize living everyday

feeling so touch-starved lately…

i can picture so vividly how it would feel for someone to caress my face, plant their fingers in my hair and grip my skull

i miss the taste of lips and mouths, of skin and heat. i want someone to lay claim to me and never look back

Romaticising my life right now by listening to the Heartstopper soundtrack and singing along while sitting outside on our terrace and the sun has set about an hour ago but there’s still some daylight, the moon is already up, the street lanterns are on, one star is already visable, the air smells like cut grass, bugs aren’t flying around anymore and no one is outside anymore.

This is so nice.

when will he pick me up after work with a cheap bottle of white wine and drive me somewhere by the lake where we watch the sunset together and he feeds me grapes and cheese in the back of his stupid minivan where we then wine drunkenly make out and my lipstick stains pink around his mouth but it’s fine bc he secretly likes it and then we fall asleep tangled together there bc the wine made us sleepy and obviously we can’t drive??? and then in the morning when he wakes up he lets me sleep still on his chest and watches me snore and chuckles to himself and then when i wake up finally i look up to see him watching me and then we kiss some more and then he takes me out for pancakes? when???

I’ve wanted to go home for such a long time, but I never knew where home was.

I think maybe home is the feeling you get when you’re with your best friend in sixth grade, sitting on their bed and laughing so hard that you can’t breathe,

Or maybe it’s when you’re walking through the woods and you look up and watch the rays of sun splintering through the leaves,

Or perhaps it’s when you hold hands with your lover as you walk down the street, and they softly rub their thumb against yours.

I know that I’ve been home before. It’s just been so long.

Romanticisation of stalking in media lately?? Pre gross tbh, in a lot of media types. I feel like this is mainly impacting younger people. Might write more about it later but it’s e v e r y w h e r e. You get it in movies like Twilight, the series You. Oh god You. I don’t think it needs to be said that stalkers and killers are about as far as you get from romantic. Idealisation tik Toks to Yandere/stalker subliminal messaging videos on YouTube I think it’s a bit disconcerting how mainstream it’s getting.

Here’s some Yandere subliminal comments I found, fruit for thought:

The desire for these kinds of toxic relationships under the guise of love is… wow. I don’t know just thinking about this lately thought it’d be cool to mention

My brother and his gfs moons’ compliment eachother so well its rlly cute - like, they both form a full moon !!

maybe i will get that little drink, i deserve it