We Shall Die But Not This Night.

Fuck sex. Can you deal with me when my anxiety kicks in & my depression takes over?

she got to realize time to time, that she was a granite. She was a person never seen anywhere on this planet at least not in the places she had been too.

Well, what if I had predicted that it was you the whole time and I was replying to you and not your friend.

would it change anything mate.

all this post that you created is sign of power and good heart, a sign of somebody trying to care about how they make others feel mate and I want to assure you that not many people are like you, if truly it's you. you have a unique heart in a world where everyone is minding their own gain

You are unique

You are special and

You should stand tall knowing that you harbor a unique heart and reasoning.

guys

what does it mean if you hurt someone

and

you don’t feel anything

…

asking for a friend

…

Love on the Plaza.

I wrote to her

my fantasy love letters,

and she replied

to them

in reality.

Jessica,

3rd Home,

Little Attics Apartments—

you were crude

and jolly,

and now,

irreplaceable.

The whole world isn’t mine, true, but my world, my world is mine.

That distance might be a protective barrier, built up over time because things felt too overwhelming, too painful, or too complicated.

Maybe if they try noticing the little things—the way the air feels when they step outside or how the light looks through a window. These moments can help your friend reconnect with how they feel without needing to rush. It’s not about forcing yourself to 'fit in' or ‘be normal.’ It’s about acknowledging yourself and giving yourself permission to gradually re-enter the world at your own pace, without judgment.

hope this is okay

plus any time your friend needs a chat they can email me here, just a chat free, no subscription just two humans talking

guys

what does it mean if you hurt someone

and

you don’t feel anything

…

asking for a friend

…

This is the 11th day of 

waiting. 

seated in the same spot 

grindling my hands 

to type

and 

what gets out is 

ddddhhhhdhdjdhdhddhkjsdhjdsh. 

Whatever part of the 

brain that platitudinized me to write 

is dead now. 

It made me fall in love, 

and now—kaput—it's gone.

Uuuuh what a devoid day ! 

I am dissolving 

into a desolate form.

I am losing my religion Only to find God.

i am losing the preacher man's address only to find the scripture's directions.

i am losing all hope only to find my life beautifully wovened from the start to end by God.

Losing and gaining, losing and gaining.

God, the divine architect of justice and fairness.

Am not hopeless, yes, but am remained with a hope that can sustain me only and nobody else. Am not even right to be near to for am a time bomb ticking and i don’t want to burst with anybody.

rantandreleasespace@gmail.com

sometimes you want to deep talk. other times, laugh at how unfair life is. then there are days you want to be crude as hell, unfiltered, messy, real.

but...

social media feels too loud. friends feel too busy. texting feels dry. even your notes app is tired of you.

and still... the heart swells. the mind spins. the soul aches for softness. for being heard without performing. for depth without interruption.

that’s how rant and release was born.

for the ones who: → overthink everything. → replay conversations or decisions on loop. → feel it all and still carry it all. → need to vent but don’t want pity. → want to share but not with just anybody.

it’s old-style. it’s basic. it’s messy. but I promise — when you find me there, we’ll laugh at life together, get scared together, maybe even get cruder together. because in there, it’s us against life.

one email away: rantandreleasespace@gmail.com

no rules. no perfection. just human. though, NOT THERAPY.