Nothing Thoughts, Nothing Stories by Gab Follin (chapter books to read to 5 year olds .txt) 📖

Continuous, this pointless circle.

It goes around and around just like a carousel, and I want to get off.

This never-ending carousel only continues due to words needing to be said.

 

When you were a kid, you wanted to ride the carousel over and over again, like how it spins around.

At first it’s fun, new, delightful.

But after a while, the spinning gets old.

 

The same scenes pass you by, after each full spin.

Over and over again, the same spin, the same scenes, the only thing that changes is how you feel.

You feel sick, tired, you just want to get off.

 

Once you get off, you leave and forget about it.

Hopefully to find a new ride that will make you excited and happy unlike the one you just got off.

It’s kind of silly, because that’s just a child for you.

 

But also like you, you are a child, you are like a carousel.

 

Do I even need to explain? I feel like I do, just like the carousel concept to help you understand something for once.

 

All you did was make me sick, that spinning, all the same things happening over and over again.

The whining, just like a child, when things didn’t turn out the way it should, only because you kept doing the same thing over and over again instead of something new.

 

Everything was spinning.

Too much of that spinning will make one dizzy, which is why I fell off.

And only watched you as you spun out of control.

 

Do you think I tried to help put you back on track, on that normal spinning motion?

No, due to it being your normal track, where everything would just circle around again.

I didn’t want to do it, I wanted off.

And now I am.

 

Spin out of control, do damage, fuck up everything as you please.

Do that, or fix everything yourself instead of trying to blame me for not trying to.

It’s not my job, and never was.

 

Get over yourself already.

 

suffocate

 

A weight has been lifted from her chest.

She could already breathe easier, freeer, nicer.

The rush of fresh air from the outside entering her lungs to fill them with delight and necessary living aspects.

She could breathe just fine before, but it never felt like a full breath was taken in each and every time.

 

There was a weight, sitting on her chest preventing more.

It blocked her and only pushed harder to suffocate her.

That’s how you felt for her.

 

Now that she’s gone, she can breathe so much better.

Without being pushed, without being suffocated.

It’s much easier now.

 

She’s glad she’s gone.

She’s glad she made the decisions she did.

She’s glad she said the things she happened to say.

sticks & stones

 

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

 

Tell me some more how words can’t hurt you.

Do they not stay in the back of your head?

It’s like watching a cartoon character run in place.

 

Words mean everything, considering they have specific meanings.

They mean something, everything.

Individual words will come together to create a sentence, that has a bigger meaning than the words by themselves.

In all reality, every word means something, but tell yourself what you need to, to decrease the pain.

 

It’s not a good idea to start something you can’t finish.

Which is exactly what you did.

Little words sprawled out over an empty picture, about me it is.

Only there, in a place where it is safe from my eyes, but not the worlds.

Which was your intention correct?

 

They ask so you can trash my name.

Before you do that, let me drag yours through the mud.

Your own words seemed to only bite you right back in the ass, funny, huh?.

 

Go on though, believe what you need to after reading my meanings of you.

Keep believing my words can’t hurt you. Even though you make it painfully obvious they do.

Just do whatever to help your pathetic existence sleep better at night.

 

Stop, is what you say, but is it what you do yourself?

Still ongoing, on both ends, and only one is holding their’s up.

Pick up the slack, you’re falling behind.

 

You’re welcome, once again.

For giving you words of my wisdom about your existence.

I hope they delight you, help you understand something maybe for once.

 

I don’t think you even read my words to the full extent.

Considering we’re still here and all.

I feel like you cherry pick the words you want to talk back at, but never the full paper.

Learn to change that, because you’ll never get anywhere like this.

Change your approach as well.

Hiding behind a block button doesn’t make you seem very serious.

 

But anyway.

Hope this helps you somehow.

Whether it helps you move on, or just get angrier at nothing, it’ll help with something.

 

Good luck with this one,

love.

paint yourself

 

Paint a picture of yourself. What do you see?

Something ugly? Pretty? Mortifying?

Tell me what you see.

 

Days when you can’t look at yourself in the mirror, in fear of seeing your face.

Only because it’s something you despise.

Not due to it being your face, just the person that wears this face.

 

Can’t help the feelings, they’re there and they are here to stay.

They reside inside my brain, they live in a cozy house and sit by the fire on a winter night.

Only for the fire to roar and engulf the house they’re supposed to sleep in safely at night.

 

Writing stories, of fictional characters.

About a love you’ve never felt, only to imagine the feelings they’re feeling.

Making up whatever tragedy or happily ever after their fate is.

 

Their fate is in your hands.

 

Reading, reading, reading.

Stories about self inflicted disasters, only to read the pain of others.

Hopefully to help you feel better about your own.

 

Overwhelming, what anything is anymore.

Take it as you will, just try not to be alone.

The loneliness will break you.

 

Paint something, of yourself.

A picture, a portrait, a memory.

Something beautiful.

 

None of these tragedies are ever beautiful.

They’re sad, heartbreaking, they suck.

Why does all this stuff happen?

 

Paint yourself.

Tell me what you see.

Do you see something beautiful?

talk n text

 

Do not ever underestimate me.

I will say things that will burn a hole in your heart.

Certainly, I think it’s been done already.

 

Why did you lie to yourself?

Saying you don’t care and all these hideous things, and turn around and not mean any of them?

It’s now the opposite and I’m not sure which words to believe.

 

Be clear, because I was.

 

Do I hate you?

No, hate is too strong.

Hateful, is not what I am.

 

Just honest.

 

I express my feelings and emotions in sentences like this.

Do you understand that?

Never was hate expressed, just great anger because of your being.

 

You don’t know how I would react?

I can tell you since you’ve made it clear you miss me.

Simply, a response would be granted.

 

I’m not cold.

I know how those feelings feel.

Don’t you think I’d want to help if you needed it?

 

In other words.

Try not to fuck with me again.

Would appreciate the not needed anger.

 

Go ahead, text me.

If you please, if you really miss me.

Tell me about all the things that are bothering you.

 

I’m here.

Probably always will be.

Anger passes but never love.

 

Remember that.

stay in place

 

Things said can’t be taken back.

But the words can be forgiven.

 

They are memories but just like memories, they will be remembered.

However, the both of us said things.

 

All we can do is forgive each other for the things we said.

Talk it through, make sure the different words said are noted.

 

All I ever asked was for you to listen to me.

Granted, not every piece of advice I give will work but it’s worth a try.

 

I only ask you to try because I’ve been through what you have.

Wouldn’t you consider me an expert?

 

Never did I want to see you hurt or sad.

But what was I going to do?

 

I can sit here now and say I’m sorry.

But the words I said