Inspire me.

My name is Adeeb. Yes, Adeeb. I am an self-entitled amateur philosopher, a wordsmith, if you will? I write of love, passion, and the romanticism of my own personal heartbreak. Yes, It’s often depressing to read. Am I depressed? No more than any other musician. But this is the outlet into which I pour the broken, burnt, and scattered peices of my soul. When a thought or feeling has outlived my mental shelf-life, instead of letting it die and go to waste, I collect them here, where they will live on, and maybe even influence others who’s hearts hurt for the better. Solidarity in my own personal catharsis.

Do you ever wish you could still hurt, that you weren’t so numb so you could actually shed a tear for the things you care about? Is there an expiration date for nostalgia? Do others feel the same as I do when they see the proof of what’s happened? The aftermath. The pain. All the nights seemingly wasted. Every emotion you felt, good for nothing anymore, no conclusion, no good outcome? What was it all for? It’s crazy how self depressing my kind can be when I let it wander. Do I just need a new start too? Were all these feelings I had and promises I made meant for someone else and just wasted on the past? Could I ever look that person in the eye and say, I’m happier now. I have an unbelievable capacity for intelligence, rage, love, strength, truth and I know I’m meant for so much more, but could I ever be that cruel? Lie to someone as often as I bat an eyelash, and with the same eyes, look into someone else’s as their soul crumbles?

I made a mistake tonight. I went to a place that I shouldn’t have and realized there was nothing for me there anymore. I looked at someone so still and yet captivating, and felt a rush of familiarity, but ultimately, I couldn’t even say the name while looking at this person. Because it wasn’t anyone I knew. That person doesn’t see me, hasn’t heard me, and knows nothing of me.

I cannot keep the memory alive any longer. All is broken, and lost. How can I feel anything for someone I’ve never met? It’s as if the shell remains, but the eyes are no longer mine, (to even further elaborate seems inappropriate because I know who bears right and claim to all else).

No one has ever left me unable to process things. In all my life, I’ve provided closure for myself, made things okay. But even though almost every part of me screams to close the book and stop reading, every part rationalizes that, if every rule, every standard, every dream you could judge a person’s logic on were lies, how can any discernible logic be held with any result. No equation can be solved without knowing the variables. No crime, without motive. So how is this any different? Why torture myself by holding on to the only things I actually know about a person, a name, a face, a date, that will ultimately lead me nowhere.

I hate the words, I hate that I cannot with as much as I’ve tried, with every truth or lie I’ve told myself to influence my heart, I cannot break the one promise that I need so desperately to break.

Anonymous asked: Why do you call Morgan your little sister?

When we first became friends, she would come to me for advice all the time. We eventually hung out more and noticed once that her dad looked like I would if I was older, so she figured I must’ve been her long lost brother. And ever since, she’s been my little sis. And It’s appropriate, because even though she might bug me sometimes or do dumb things, I’ll still love her and be there if she needs a helping hand or a shoulder to lean on.

Anonymous asked: Are you in love?

I don’t really know how to answer that. I’ve been in love for close to 4 or 5 years now. Unfortunately I doubt I’m still loved back by that person, but yes, I would say that I’m still in love and it keeps me happy to know that I have the ability to love someone no matter what.

If happy ever afters did exist,

I would still be holding you like this.

All those fairy tales are full of shit.

One more fucking lovesong, I’ll be sick.

It’s a shame we don’t get to talk more often. You think enough like I do to actually hear me and understand. I know you have things you want and need, and as I said, I’m a dependent person (which is probably why I’m so good at getting hurt) but I’d like to be able to be something for you. No matter how much I try not to be, I’m a diehard hopeless romantic and I can’t help but go with what my heart tells me. You and I are so alike in many ways but so incredibly different. I know you’re good at not feeling, but I can’t help but feel. Even now, I know that although you probably appreciate these pretty words, they’re not what you need. I just enjoy what connections we do have.

If it ever comes to that point where you come closer to me and let me in, I hope I’ll be something you need and hopefully something you want. I’ll always care, but I hope that you never come to me just to take care of me, but that I can take care of you as well.

I hope you never settle. I know I won’t. And I’ll never put myself with someone who can’t be all I need, because then I won’t be happy and if I can’t be, I don’t expect someone to try and fail to do so.

It amazes me that some people can sleep at night

Why is it that I write? The words floating around in my head are of no consequence to anyone, and subsequently bear with them the moral weight of a feather. These words aren’t to anyone, neither are they to yours truly. They are just the things I feel need to be said to accurately describe to whom ever may be reading, the innermost workings of my mind. I, in my own personal and intimate way, have lost my mind. There was a point that I can remember long ago that involved a broken ticking clock, a tapping pencil, and a 3 walled 4x4 white cubicle that ultimately drove me mad, but in madness I see. I believe that the way I think has kept me from being depressed for too long about anything in my life. To quote one of the greatest minds, or lack there of; “Life is a joke, and we’re all just waiting for the punchline.” The significance of that man’s worldview constantly calls my own perspective into question. Over time, things change, problems are always there, they will always be there, but nothing is forever. And so, forever is nothing. If there are always problems, then there never really is a problem because Problems Are Our Reality. Life is shit, and every now and then, we find something that makes us feel something more than our reality, and we rejoice in blissful jubilation with the knowledge that, even though the world is shit, life doesn’t have to be. In a world that’s ever changing, a reality that has no consistency other than always falling back to shit, nothing good ever stays that way.To think that human nature could be trumped by the idea of fate, destiny, and love, is complete and utter insanity. But, as previously stated, I’ve efficiently and indefinitely lost my mind.

-Daphne Loves Derby

“Sleep well”

:) New perspective.

Was I a good host? I courted you as best I could, given the circumstances. Our relationship was difficult because of all the restrictions, plus the added tension of everything that happened. It wasn’t my fault, It similarly wasn’t your fault. Forbidden lovers’ stories never end well anyway. Some would say we were dead on arrival. I still smile at the world we created with our love. It’s almost as if the rules and cute little things we did, and the things we held dear; they all still belong. In another dimension, the reality that our love created still flourishes. It’s a lovely thought.

You’re going to smile at how love drunk we were one day. When you think back on all of the girlish crushes and love struck days of your youth. The thought of how my actions and how our relationship is going to make you feel warm inside when you reminiss… It’s enough to make me smile and feel loved again.

I think you’re going to keep your promises, just not in the way that I, it even you, originally thought. You’re always going to love me as I am you. And even though you won’t be mine forever, the person you were during our time together, no one will ever have again. No one will ever have what I had, or what we had.

And as I promised you, I’ll never want anyone but you in the way that I wanted you then. No one will ever get what I gave to you. What we had cannot be replicated. There will never be a repeat. And I cannot say that I will ever find anything better, because it was too unique to be compared.

Smile. You’re unique. Not just as a person, but you’ve also become something more than just a person. You’ve become a past life of mine without having to die. So run, little children, play. Because you made a part of my youth beautiful for what seems like just a moment. Not quite long enough, never long enough. It never is, and never was. It is strange to think of who you were before me. You assumed this new identity almost, when you were with me. Not to mention you even assumed a new name. I wonder what all of that identity was just my own input fed back to me. I can’t say my sense of I changed very much, seeing as you weren’t in my life very much unless it was some false representation of your presence. Be it by text, phone, or video. However, the way my heart felt, that I must thank you for. Because it truly felt wonderful. I enjoyed being something important to someone. I’ve been tossed aside much in my life, whether it was my friends or my parents, it always seemed to happen. I was cherished and treasured for everything I was for a brief but gorgeous moment in my life. And so, my identity with you was realized. I was depended upon, and I was glorified for being a hero. I loved being recognized as the hero I have always been and all that I could be. So, our love, my soul connection I finally found, my great friend, all of everything that we were and could be, will live on forever in that memory. I unintentionally stumbled upon the realization while meditating one evening and without meaning to, tapped into one of the memories.

I use the same process during my meditation to connect to the memory of an old friend. I never considered using that method with our memories. Thank you for the part of your life that you shared. I hold no grudge, and truly bear no ill feelings. I did, but I realized that they are worthless to me. ‘What you did’ isn’t important, and is useless to think about. You halted the progression of our lives together, but the love that I had for that girl I knew will never end, you’ve become immortal in my mind. One of the major supporting roles in my story. Our story is etched into my heart, never to be forgotten. And will be added to the chapter of the great loves of my life.

No one I’m meeting here has your smile, your dreams, your flaws, or your perfections. But you have none of theirs either. Life has its many dualities, and you’ve become one of my former selves.

But true love is a funny thing, because once true love sparks and is created between two people, it lives on forever. Regardless of whether the people who create it, sustain it or not, it lives on and thrives and survives.

The realization makes me so happy, because it’s my own personal proof that my love for you was true. If yours was or not is for you to decide. You had my true love. And so, that love, whether you give it shelter in your heart or not, will always last. Whether I ever care to think about you again or not, that love will always be there if/when I ever do again.

Reality, you might want to sit down.. You’ve just been romanticized. ;)