Happiness and good Fortune are like a golden sand flowing into an hourglass of life sometimes there are black grains representing the bad things that sometimes happen but for most they are tuning to gold once they reach the majority of gold. But for some people the sand has more black grains than most, and some of those tend to give their few golden grains to others to help them turn their black to gold, which often leave the givers with overpowering obsidian sand that often turns new gold to black. And if they ask others for just a speckle of gold in return to help Turing the black to gold, they often have to beg for it or end up turning the others sand black just by opening their their hourglass. I am certainly one of the latter people. My body and mind is filled with poisonous black sand and my tongue turns it into venom injecting it to others whenever reach for support or comfort. I have realized a very concerning pattern that gives me the worst anxiety right now. I'm poisoning the last golden grain of sand whenever I open my heart and don't swallow my feelings for once. I should finally stop trying and go back to being the quiet listener that gives her golden grains to others and fights against the black by herself. That will spare me from a lot of feelings of disappointment, and anxiety and guilt about upsetting others by voicing when I'm being upset or disappointed. I'll just suck it up and be too forgiving for my own good the sake of harmony. How sad is that? I have become scared of being upset because it upsets others and I feel guilty then. Can one be more of a peoplepleaser just to not end up all alone? Today was a terrible day on so many levels, not only was I still feeling upset, I was also anxious to the point of barely being able to breathe because I had I realized this destructive and poisonous pattern that always, really ALWAYS has been following when I open up and threatens the last good thing I have that is supposed to be an anchor right now. And on top of all, some actually supposedly good news came in from a friend but I can't be happy for them instead it really pulls me down because the topic reminds me of my health issues that are kinda related... And as I currently have no one to talk to because my tongue is venomous and I just ruin everone elses minds, I have to rant it out to strangers in the internet. Maybe the more creative writing approach I took in the beginning is at least somewhat enjoyable to read. It was kind inspired by this song... https://youtu.be/FK3TDHnD1_0?list=RDFK3TDHnD1_0

Lately, When I express my genuine thoughts and concerns, it feels like a form of punishment. This happens both at work, in meetings where input is supposedly valued, and in my personal life. My attempts to voice a concern or a different perspective are often dismissed as pessimism, exaggeration, or even egomania. It seems I am being penalized simply for having an opinion and for caring enough to be concerned. Increasingly, I feel that I am being passively silenced—not with a direct command, but with subtle cues and reactions that make thinking feel like a forbidden act. I am being reduced to a sounding board, a wall for others to shout at, with no expectation of a reciprocal conversation. My role is not to contribute, but to absorb. And then, people wonder. They wonder why I am burning out, why my energy and creativity have evaporated, why my motivation has dwindled to nothing. They don't see the cumulative weight of being silenced. I notice that the situation is gradually affecting my body. I currently only sleep with a tight chest and painful breathing, and I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing.

How the hell do we find our blog entries? [BeautifulMonster] I've probably got several cringey things I need to delete, or mount on the wall.

Heard a conversation today: Him to her: "Not like I knocked you into a wall." Is this the new dating criteria?

More Halloween wallpapers #heyfreak #gothic

Halloween wallpaper #heyfreaks

Next stop my thighs! I would say in a campy Stonewallesque voice.

It seems a shadow of misfortune follows me. I've come to expect it: a fleeting moment of light is always chased away by a familiar storm, pulling me back under with brutal force. What truly unnerves me is the silence within. The emotional echo of these disasters has faded to nothing. I am a dry well—events that should summon a flood of tears now barely register. Is this resilience, or is it erosion? My psyche, to save itself, seems to have severed the wires, leaving me feeling like an spectator in my own tragicomedy, muttering, 'This can't be real.' I observe my life as through a thick, silent pane of glass. The impact is muted, the meaning distant. I am a curious stranger to my own apathy, asking, 'What happens when you simply have nothing left to feel?' Is this emptiness making me stronger, or is it the void before the collapse? I built these walls stone by stone for protection, but now they encircle me. They keep the world's anguish out. The question is no longer about weathering the storm, but whether I am fortified within a sanctuary, or entombed within a cell of my own making.

My new clock arrived a 30 day key wind wall clcok. It needs a clean and overhall, got it cheap as seller said chime wont chime on time on the correct hour. All you need to do is set the hour forward or back its only the minute hand that cannot move back lol. I love my 1910 Seikosha wall clock but being so old she needs constaint attention. These modern clocks don't.

[BeautifulMonster] How do I cash out my earnings from my wallet? 🤔💭