Letters - Blog Posts

Dear [Redacted],  

I honestly don’t know how to start this, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be quite long. Hope you don’t mind. 

Not a single day goes by that you don’t occupy my mind; thoughts of what we had and how if i’d done some things differently we might have had longer together. I genuinely believe that with you, it was the right person, wrong time, wrong place. In college I couldn’t love you the way you deserved, and now I can, but I spend most of my time on the other side of the country, and we barely talk. 

I constantly find myself daydreaming about getting you your favourite flowers, and holding your hand, and kissing you. God, how I wish I would’ve had the confidence to kiss you. I should’ve done it. I wanted to so badly. The day you lay in my arms and almost fell asleep as I was playing with your hair? I wish I’d tilted your head up and asked if I could kiss you. I wonder if things would be different if I’d have had the courage. 

Northampton has a performing arts degree. Well it’s called “Acting for stage and screen” but it’s basically performing arts. And there’s a theatre literally not even a five minute walk from my current accommodation. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve imagined you coming here and us being together and being able to pursue our dreams in the same space. Little coffee dates where I read novels and you memorise scripts. The sun shining through your hair in the spring and summer. Honestly you must be so so blessed by whatever almighty force there is to be so beautiful, and for that beauty to only be enhanced even more when you’re in the sun. 

It’s funny to think about how a few months ago I would have let you kill me. And I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean that if you had a knife in your hand, I’d bare my neck on instinct. I would sit obediently with your shotgun to my skull. I wouldn’t even bring up my hands to stop blows to my ribs. I would let you dismember me. Skin me alive. Bite until the skin tore. Touch me in my sleep. It makes me feel so meek but then I remember I love like a dog. Beautiful and wretched as that may be. 

And I did love you. I might still do. I tried to move on, but nothing’s felt the same since. It’s like as soon as we broke up, you took half of my soul with you, leaving what was left to wither up and die. A bit dramatic but it’s true. 

If you asked anything of me, I’d come running. I should’ve done that the entire time, but I didn’t. 

It’s been about a year and a half since we broke up. Your birthday isn’t in my calendar anymore. It feels like a piece of me is missing. 

That time in your living room at your birthday party when we held hands properly for the first time, with your arm wrapped around me and me leaning on your shoulder. As soon as your skin touched mine, I knew it was over for me. I was entirely yours. Now, I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable. But I was your servant. If you starved I would’ve fed you, if you were sick I would’ve tended to you. I would have crawled at your feet. I would have, if I had been braver and loved you the way I wanted to. Before your love I was debased. For you alone I was, and am, weak. 

I never did tell you how proud I am of you. The night I got to see you on stage, I was utterly speechless. Perfect doesn’t even begin to describe how you were. As soon as you stepped on that stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even if you weren’t the main person performing. And when you went off again all I could think of was when I would see you next. I should’ve held you afterwards, kissed the side of your head and told you how proud I am of you. You put in so much hard work for it, all while being sick and not knowing what was wrong, and you did incredibly. That whole night the only thing that was going through my head was how much I loved you. But I never told you.

Before the show started as well, when people were getting ready. I was talking to one of the then second years, and you came by, obviously distressed and anxious. I should’ve ended my conversation right then and gone to you, holding you and telling you that everything would be okay and that you would do amazing. But I didn’t. I just watched you out of the corner of my eyes. Even then I knew I was making the wrong decision. I still regret it.  

I dream about taking you on a picnic. A flower field or an apple orchard or a grassy meadow in summer. But I don’t know of any near either of us so I’ll have to stick to my imagination. No-one around so we can truly be ourselves, the sun shining on us as I fed you grapes. Or whatever your favourite fruit is. I’ve forgotten. The sun shining through your hair, making you glow. Your eyes bright with happiness. I think it would be perfect. I hope you would agree. 

Honestly I only want for one thing now, even though I know it’s probably impossible. 

I want you to want me as I want you. Desperately. I want to make you shiver from my touch. I want to hear your voice, breathless and shaky. I want you to say my name like a prayer. Full of devotion. I want to bind together our bodies, intertwine our bones. I want you to devour me. To watch you strip off all layers of my being and digest every single piece. 

But I ruined the chances of that happening too soon. 

If I’m ever brave enough to give you this and you do read it, I hope you don’t think I’m weird lol. I hope you realise that you still own half of my soul, and that there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and what we had, and how I should’ve treated you. I regret so much and I just wish I had a chance to love you the way you deserve and to show you how amazing you are. 

There’s so so so much more I want to say but I can’t find the words. 

You’ve always had that effect on me, making me speechless. 

You’re incredible. 

Love, yours

From my side, to you:

Thank you loves, for being here and for your support. I want you to know I see you, see what you have and are going through. And I just want to say you make me so proud of you, and take a hug from my side as well... It's not easy, the journey you have taken (especially when you don't even know what path you are on) and regardless, you are going forward. It's hard to live in the unknown, and yet you are here. Thank you, thank you for your existence. May you see that your words, and you matter so much. 🧡

Their will so strong,

A literacy piece, I want to dedicate to [Your name] -

A long lost painting

In the blip of existence,

They came to surrender,

Their love in fragments,

Yet ever being foolish,

They fix the broken mirrors that their demons ravaged,

Giving this being in front of them

a portrait of spring

Colors of the forbidden fruit

of hope

~ by a stranger to another.

Thank You!

THE LETTER (by joud abu rashed)

Words: A single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence and typically shown with a space on either side when written or printed. Words are a way to express one’s self, they show emotion, they might hurt someone, end relationships, start wars, they can be used as a weapon, since words are an important factor of both freedom and democracy, but most importantly words impact people, either negatively or positively depending on the situation. the war has ended a year ago marking a new age of democracy, it started since poverty was spreading like an illness due to the evils of monarchy so naturally the people protested their rights using their words but they weren’t heard the government was deaf to their pleas so a war eventually broke out in order to gain justice. Chaos and confusion that’s was how I lived after all I was a child an orphan who lost both parents and any sense of peace or security I ever had. I was lost, starving, with no will to live in this cruel world. Along with the bloodshed, something happened or rather someone came and rescued me. 

His name was Ashton Arlert, He was a kind man with a heart of gold. He took me in, provided me with every necessity. He taught me how to read and write, how to use a gun and protect myself just in case I find myself in a difficult position, but most importantly he gave me a will, a will to live. After years of suffering the war ended which lead me to decide to live a normal life, so I moved out to pursue my own career as a ghostwriter in a small company. You see after the war there was a huge decrease in people who knew how to write, which meant ghostwriters (especially for letters) became widely popular. My job required me to listen to people, to observe and analyze their emotions then find the right words that fit the message they want to present. I had my own life, friends, responsibilities, etc  yet Ashton never left my mind, he was like a father to me and I never showed him how much I appreciated what he had done towards me so I decided to write a letter to him. I was a professional writer with tons of experience yet I struggled with it (ironic isn’t it). For days and days all I would do is stare at an empty piece of paper with a cramped hand longing for words. Needless to say I was frustrated. I wrote and I wrote as if I was running out of time but nothing, just nothing. Everything I wrote would soon become another crumpled piece of paper in the trash, till one day while the smell of my morning coffee was mixing with the smell of ink coming from my pen I suddenly found the words that I longed for. I ran to the post office with the feeling of  relief in my lungs and a hint of excitement in my eyes. It was a quite night when he received the wax sealed letter, he looked at the handwriting a sense of nostalgia flooded him. He held it with his wrinkled hands as he read it with tears flooding his ocean blue eyes. The letter simply said “Thank you, Ashton, for everything. Sincerely Nadia” A simple phrase that’s all it took to bring a grown man to tears.

Senior letters are so hard to write because of how blurry my vision gets with the tears.

The worry that this is all going to end and I’m never going to talk to them again. The sadness of knowing that our roads are going down different paths.

The pride I feel of how far they’ve come and how many different adventures we’ve gone on. The inside jokes. The stories. The lore.

The vulnerable moments. The good times. The bad times.

And I have to summarize all of that and include well wishes in a single letter????

My heart is going to explode. I love every one of these people so much.

DIY Moss Covered Letters {Wedding Wednesday}

Why do stupid english letters look so boring like russian and arabic look so cool then normal letters

like i can write ine a russian and i can look so cool like что ты имеешь в виду, я не могу использовать перевод? LOOK BRO honestly smash every russians i see

I was messing with the different fonts on my drawing app and this happened.

Alternates Below:

01.15.21 / start-of-semester letters

For work... I visit everything (related to art) with pleasure and interest, because then I have to write about it. One exhibition replaces another...

Today I was most attracted by an art object with old letters... Someone's correspondence. I wondered if it would be interesting to look into it... What if there were someone's secrets or something that would hurt... To be the keeper of someone else's secret or to share someone else's pain... No...

I guess there's a reason they say you can't read other people's letters.

Leave me alone I’m literally just a syriac feminine dot

Hello people of tumblr,

I have been working on a project to fix the English language. This includes making every vowel make only one sound, removing unnecessary letters, and adding new grammatical symbols. The goal is to make English a phonetic language that is easy for immigrants and people with dyslexia to learn! If you would like to participate in this experiment, click here https://discord.gg/AAmmyH5j

I am but a humble highschool linguist, but I would appreciate your support :)

sending a letter to my ex (??) who’s in jail

abandoning love letters was such a bad idea. tell me how are we going to reminisce old loves. screenshots??

;w;;; 💕Recently finished watching Violet Evergarden.. WAAH I'm not crying!! you are!! (>,﹏<)′

𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖫𝖸 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱𝖲, 𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶𝖭 : : 𝖲. 𝖪𝖨𝖸𝖮𝖮𝖬𝖨 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/241046284-%F0%9D%96%B2%F0%9D%96%A8%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%A2%F0%9D%96%A4%F0%9D%96%B1%F0%9D%96%A4%F0%9D%96%AB%F0%9D%96%B8-%F0%9D%96%B8%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%B4%F0%9D%96%B1%F0%9D%96%B2-%F0%9D%96%B4%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%AA%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%B6%F0%9D%96%AD-%F0%9D%96%B2-%F0%9D%96%AA%F0%9D%96%A8%F0%9D%96%B8%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%AC%F0%9D%96%A8

【𝑆𝐴𝐾𝑈𝑆𝐴 𝐾𝐼𝑌𝑂𝑂𝑀𝐼】 

❝𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑❞

- In which Sakusa Kiyoomi had recently been receiving mysterious letters from an unknown admirer he secretly grew fond of. 

Just Bruce writing letters to Clark <3

And is waiting for him

I keep all the letters and birthday cards I’ve ever gotten. ☺️☺️☺️ So nostalgic for the good old days. #nostalgia #letters #birthdaycard #remembering #rememberme

QUICK

which one of these is cuter?

ℬ or 𝒰

So, Audrey and Aubrey... What dumbass parent switched up their d's and b's and created a new name??? More importantly which name came first! This is like the, "Which came first the ostrich or the egg?" but with names!!!

He also gave his kids a goblin themed (the North Polar Bear comes up with it based on goblin cave art) writing system to decipher, it's legitimately good.

If you can get a copy of the book, I seriously recommend you do. It's such a good read.

I know everyone talks about how Tolkien infused his war ptsd into LOTR but did you know he wrote letters to his kids from 'santa' and they include a full on war with goblins to save Christmas?? And polar bears and elves (the shelf kind) getting injured and starving like this man could never be chill he had to have a battle and I love that for him

—Sylvia Plath, Letter to Aurelia Plath, 4th May 1962

𝑀𝑦 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐽𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑛, 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑙𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟; 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑧𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜. 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒… 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.

—William Thatcher, A Knight’s Tale -The Letter

If I cannot love you openly like I wish, if I cannot hold your hand when walking Or wrap you in my arms late at night. Then I will love you silently, in my mind and behind closed eyes For there, there is no rejection or heartbreak. And surely it is better to love silently than to not love at all?

—unknown

To the little girl who faded with the dying light of October, 1922— My dearest Cecilia, It is with unbearable grief that I write to you. Each passing day, I am forced to reconcile with the weight of your absence, haunted by the silence you left behind. Although it wasn’t my hands that took your life, my heart aches with regret— because in the silence of my heart, I have convinced myself that it was my fault.

—A lady and her quill, Letters to dead children.

Me conoció siendo un día cálido, con un jardín floreciente, y el sol bañando mi rostro... y le gustó lo que veía; pero se asustó en mis días nublados, cuando la tempestuosa lluvia corría por mis mejillas y el aire frío lograba congelar mis huesos...

Saw a YT video about tiering letter by now easy it is to capitalize, disagreed with some points, so made my own

Two good SBS questions

while thinking about the kind of questions that tends to appear in SBS I came up with two questions that would fit pretty great, the questions themselves are;

What dog breed would each of the straw hats own?

If someone would speak the poneglyph language out loud, what kind of dialect would it sound similar to?

the only problem is, one: I don't write letters and therefore have zero clue how the whole proses works. two:... I can't Japanese

This is why I'm writing this since I hope on getting someone's attention who fully agrees on how valid each of the questions are and themselves be able to write a letter to Oda

You get a letter from your new pen pal... Phillip Graves

 alphabet stencil #1, © 2015 Pawel Kuc

Letter #22

I stood at the beginning of the street My childhood home staring back at me Six lanes of heavy traffic between us A house you haven't lived in for years A house I have tried everything to forget Does your ghost still haunt it's walls Or did you find what you were looking for At the end of all those vices you sought An entire lifetime spent dormantly waiting Patient, silent, without cause for thought For a moment I set memories of you aside Absorbing all the fresh window cracks Every old fern I once planted in it's yard How lively those new neon curtains are Screaming eccentricity is a skill The passing of time is one merciless beast Worse for wear, yet it's warmth still sings With a bitter-sweet smile, I close my eyes Content to know the clock will continue It's a different home now, a new story My presence wouldn't fit there anymore And what a wonderful thing that is indeed Farewell, may we never meet again

Date Written: 10th of September, 2023

It was such an odd experience revisiting my old house.

I was simply on my way to a bus stop from my friend's place and entirely forgot what street I was on. I hadn't expected to see it, until I looked up to turn the corner and saw it there just staring back at me. Good memories, bad memories, mostly things I'd like to forget. All of it came back to me at once and it froze me for a moment. I hated life almost every moment I spent there, constantly in and out of psych wards growing up just wishing I didn't have to exist.. And it felt nice viewing it with eyes that no longer fueled themselves off of anguish. It felt really, really nice. My love for the sweet parts of my childhood will remain eternal, but never in a million years would I wish to go back. I like who I am now, I'm doing well and dare I say I almost feel human for once. The distance is home to me now, warm and forgiving. I'm grateful for the road between us.