insae

His || Jungkook || 0.21

pairing: jungkook x reader

type: angst, fluff, smut.

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Jednog dana, kada poželiš da umreš

Jednog dana

Kada ti svega “bude dosta”

Kada ti život postane naporan

I sve tvoje želje se čine daleko, baš baš daleko

Jednog dana

Kada ne pronađeš sreću u svom postojanju

Kada ne budeš razumela ZAŠTO BAŠ TEBI; ZAŠTO BAŠ SADA; ZAŠTO BAŠ TO

Jednog dana

Kada budeš razmišljala o pilulama

Ili hladnom oružju

Jednog dana kada zažmuriš i vidiš svoju sahranu


Šta će tata reći mami kada te pronađe u kupatilu?

Šta će mama reći maloj sestri, zašto te nema čitav dan?

Kako će tata prestati da ti masira srce?

Kako će mama prestati da plače?

Kako će sestra prestati da te čeka?

Kome će tata dati dug zagrljaj i reči ,,Nek nemam dinara, al’ nek uvek imam vas"?

Kome će mama spremiti palačinke i reći ,,E ovo je poslednji put, od sad praviš sama", iako to nikada ne bude tako?

Kome će sestra čuvati tajne i reći ,,Biću ja jednom kao ti!“?


Šta će, kada te ne bude bilo, biti sa svetom?

Misliš li da on neće osetiti?

O da, hoće

Svet će osetiti borbu tvoga oca i jecaje tvoje majke

Svet će pucati nad čekanjem tvoje sestre

Svet neće razumeti

Svetu neće biti bolje

Ljudima neće biti lakše

Ni tebi, ni tebi neće biti jasnije, bolje ni lakše

Ti ćeš jednostavno prestati da postojiš

A pitaj svog tatu

Je l’ to bolje od borbe?

Pitaj svoju majku

Je l’ joj ikad bilo teško da živo?

I nakon svega

Pitaj svoju sestru

Šta vidi u tebi

I nemoj prestati da budeš to što ona vidi u tebi

Zagrli svoju drugaricu

Plačite tri dana

Ali četvrti dan ustanite, spremne za čitav život

Jer ništa nije lako

I ništa nije odjednom

Nikome

Nemoj da te nema

Nemoj da odustaneš

Ne budi tako sebična

Ne budi takva kukavica

Ostani, uprkos olujama

I oluje znaju da budu divne

Sve zavisi od toga kako ih gledaš

I kako se nosiš da njima


Nije rešenje skočiti
I neko će te shvatiti
Samo daj sebi šansu

Kako će tata nastaviti, kada zna da nije mogao da pomogne svojoj devojčici?
Kako će mama nastaviti, kada misli ,,Da sam samo rekla nešto”?
Kako će sestra nastaviti, kada ne zna zašto te nema, i kada te svaki dan čeka, i kada se pita ,,Je l’ to otišla jer sam joj uzela onu majicu?“
Ti nećeš nastaviti
Zato nemoj
Nemoj
Jer vredi nastavljati



-Sanja Mitrović, insa: obecao_si

Tudor Chirila - Scrisoare catre liceeni

,, Noi am pierdut. Dar voi, voi mai aveti o sansa. Noi am fost fericiti ca am descoperit Coca-cola si bananele si am crezut ca daca noi citim, si ei vor citi. Si ca toti vom progresa si tara o sa aiba scapare. Noi ne-am inselat. Unii dintre noi au plecat de aici. Castiga bani acolo si tanjesc dupa orasul asta imputit. Voi insa, voi aveti o sansa. Voi, aveti sansa.

Nu va ganditi la furat. E calea cea mai simpla. Stiu ca ati aflat ca asa te imbogatesti. Daca ai pamant sau daca faci afaceri cu statul. Stiti voi ceva despre tva si cum ai putea sa-l furi, dar nu va e inca foarte clar. Nu asta e drumul. Cu cat se va fura mai mult, cu atat se va construi mai putin, iar copiii copiilor nostri vor mosteni un imperiu de cenusa. Sunteti tineri si totusi habar n-aveti ce inseamna un Bucuresti in care se circula normal. Daca voi habar n-aveti si daca Ei continua sa fure, ganditi-va la copiii nostri. Nu e nici o sansa.

Cititi. Cititi mult. Cititi tot ce va pica in mana. Nu-i mai ascultati doar pe profesori. Cititi orice, fara discernamant. Nimic nu e mai important ca lectura, acum. Apoi, cautati-va intre voi. Vedeti care cititi aceleasi lucruri si inhaitati-va. Numai in haita de oameni destepti o sa reusiti. Unul singur dintre voi va fi mancat. Zece insa, s-ar putea sa reusiti. Ganditi-va de pe acum sa-i inlocuiti. Timpul lor trebuie sa se termine. Trebuie sa-i dominati. Dar nu cu gandul ca veti fura mai mult ca ei. Asta e calea simpla care va va sufoca mostenitorii. Ce-o sa faceti cu milioanele intr-un oras mort? Ce-o sa cumparati, cu banii gramezi? La ce-ti foloseste un Lamborghini cand n-ai o autostrada? De ce sa ai o vila intr-un cartier sufocat de inundatii?

Nu va dusmaniti profesorii. Sunt oameni amarati, din ale caror drame puteti invata. Isi dau priceperea pe un salariu de nimic si va invata carte. Nu va bateti joc de ei. Au muncit, si nu e vina lor ca parintii vostri s-au descurcat mai bine. N-aveti nici un drept sa-i dispretuiti. Nu le sunteti superiori. Banii parintilor vostri nu va reprezinta. Va reprezinta doar ceea ce puteti scoate pe gura. Aveti grija ce scoateti pe gura. Vremea pumnului si a bodiguarzilor a trecut. O sa calatoriti, iar copiii francezi invata carte, englezii la fel. Va confruntati cu o lume care acum e mai deschisa decat oricand. Hotii de la putere nu sunt in stare sa va spuna cine este Delacroix sau Chagall. Nici Duchamp. Nu va pot spune care e influenta lui Schopenhauer in Sarmanul Dionis si nici de ce este Eminescu un romantic intarziat. Foarte putini o sa va spuna cine a pictat Cina cea de taina si de ce Visconti a ales romanul lui Thomas Mann ca sa faca un mare film. Ei vor sti doar sa va invete sa furati. Iar calea asta, mai devreme sau mai tarziu, se va infunda si ne va asfixia copiii.

Nu va mai luati dupa ziare. Nu dau doi bani pe generatia voastra, nu va dati seama? Pentru ei, cu cat sunteti mai prosti, cu atat le va fi mai usor sa va vanda orice cacat. Iar cacatul pe care il veti cumpara va fi obtinut de la prosti, platiti pe masura. Adica prost. Eleva porno este un exemplu. Nu cititi ziarele. Cititi cateva, cele care va informeaza. Nu marsati la orice promotie. Fiti mai selectivi.

Nu fumati iarba si nu va dati in cap cu alcool, cu orice pret. O sa le dati apa la moara incultilor si hotilor de la putere. Le va fi mai simplu sa va catalogheze drept o generatie de distrusi, iar banii destinati salvarii voastre, ii vor fura. E timp si pentru iarba, e timp si pentru tequilla. Acum insa trebuie sa invatati, pentru ca in curand nu va mai fi timp pentru asta, caci veti intra in viata adanc de tot, si e mai rau ca in jungla. Animalele au reguli nescrise. Oamenii au legi scrise.

Nu alergati dupa bani cu orice pret. Banii trebuie sa va fie doar mijloc, nu scop. Scopul vostru trebuie sa fie cunoasterea. Cu cat veti sti mai multe, cu atat veti fi mai inalti. Orice carte citita, orice lectie invatata, se vor aseza sub voi si va vor ridica deasupra celorlalti. Veti domina cu mintea. Nu e nimic mai frumos decat asta. Europa cumpara inteligenta. Romania nu cumpara nimic pentru ca hotii nu construiesc, hotii fura. Nu uitati ca va fura pe voi si asta trebuie sa va opreasca. O sa auziti toata viata de Napoleon si de Nicolae Titulescu, dar sigur copiii vostri nu vor sti cine a fost Emil Boc. Istoria o scriu cei care construiesc.

Sunteti tineri. Nu va ganditi ca sunteti slabi. Puterea voastra sta in curatenie. Sunteti curati, n-au apucat sa va manjeasca, dar daca dintre voi nu se vor ridica luptatorii, o sa va improaste cu noroiul strazilor pe care nu le-au reparat. Fiecare picatura de noroi sunt banii care n-au ajuns pe strada aia. Trebuie sa schimbati asta. Care e calea? Sa cititi. Literatura universala o sa va invete sa deosebiti Binele de Rau. Balzac, Stendhal, Dumas, Dostoievski, Dickens, Tolstoi, Goethe, toti deosebesc Binele de Rau. Din prezentul amaratei asteia de tari nu puteti invata Binele. Binele puteti fi voi. Si cu cat veti fi mai multi buni, cu atat veti sufoca raul. Nu e imposibil. Dati scrisoarea asta mai departe. Deveniti buni, mai buni, cei mai buni si raspanditi-va precum lacustele.

Nu-i invidiati pe oamenii cu bani. Nu va faceti modele din baietii de bani gata, din baietii de oras. Dupa treizeci si noua de ani le va ramane doar o lista lunga de femei. Or trofeele astea sunt trecatoare. Cand imbatranesti si trofeul tau va fi o baba. Dupa asta vine singuratatea. Voi aveti sansa sa lasati ceva in urma voastra. Banii nu sunt Calea. Priviti unde ne-a adus setea de bani.

Nu va resemnati, asta nu duce nicaieri. Capul plecat, sabia il taie. Protestati, luptati, protestati. Cu scop, insa. Nu degeaba, ca altfel se transforma in latrat. Invatati legile. Invatati-va drepturile. Atunci veti sti cand are cineva voie sa va legitimeze. Veti sti cum sa luptati, daca veti sti legile. Apoi o sa vedeti ca legile sunt proaste. Si veti intelege ca trebuie sa le schimbati. Pare greu si cere timp. Dar, Doamne, voi aveti timp si pentru voi nimic nu e greu. Voi nu intelegeti ca SUNTETI SCHIMBAREA? Daca voi lasati tara asta pe mana hotilor, atunci, de-abia copii vostri vor mai avea o sansa! Caci sansa vine o data la o generatie. Noi am pierdut. Cativa dintre noi, si nu suntem putini, va putem ajuta. Noi suntem Fomila si Setila, dar voi sunteti Harap-Alb. Alegeti dintre voi pe adevaratii lideri. Sa-i alegeti si sa nu-i invidiati. Lor le va fi cel mai greu. Vor avea gloria, dar si cosmarul. Vor fi salvatorii vostri, dar se vor pierde pe ei insisi. Liderii trebuie sa fie dintre voi. Si trebuie sa-i cautati de pe acum. Uitati-va unii la altii in fiecare zi si cautati-va capitanii. Altfel veti pieri o data cu noi. Si atunci portile libertatii ne vor fi inchise si EI vor castiga. Cine sunt ei? Stiti foarte bine. Ii vedeti in ziare, in fiecare zi.

Salvati-va! Salvati-ne! Este o singura cale! Lupta cunoasterii!! Si cand veti fi castigat lupta cunoasterii, de-abia atunci veti cunoaste sa luptati cu adevarat!!!

Nu va amagiti cu prezentul… Salvati-va in viitor. Noi am pierdut. Voi? Ce faceti?”

Hei, tu. Nu ești urâtă. Ești frumoasă.
Okay, nu ai forme spectaculoase. Dar cu ce ajută aceste forme? In timp aceste forme vor dispărea, iar tu, cea care te crezi urâtă îți vei da seama ca mai bine nu ai fost fata aia cu forme superbe, ci fata cu sufletul superb.
La ce te ajuta formele ? La nimic. Okay, okay, cucerești 2-3 băieți care oricum stau cu tine doar pentru respectivele forme.
Insa, daca ai suflet (nu țâțe, ci inima) vei vedea ca vei atrage băieți care te iubesc pentru ceea ce ești, băieți cu suflet, la fel ca tine, ci nu labagii care stau cu tine pentru una, alta.
Daca as fi băiat, as alege o fata micuța, timida, zambitoare, cu ochii stralucitori; nu as alege fata care sta cu baietii si fumeaza, cu zambetul pana la urechi.
Esti frumoasa. Stii de ce?
Esti frumoasa pentru ca inca iti pasa de el, chiar daca si-a batut joc de tine. Esti frumoasa pentru ca zambesti, iar daca nu o faci, te rog sa o faci mai des. Esti frumoasa pentru ca ai un suflet frumos. Esti frumoasa pentru ca esti empatica, sufletista. Esti frumoasa pentru ca asa esti tu. Nu esti urata. Esti frumoasa. Iar cineva, intr-o zi o sa te iubeasca pentru cine esti, nu pentru felul in care arati. Iubirea adevarata exista, trebuie doar sa ai rabdare sa o intalnesti.
Nu stiu ce ai inteles din tot ce am scris, dar sper ca ai inteles cat esti de frumoasa, daca ai citit pana aici te rog din toata inima sa dai repost, ca sa vada si celelalte fete cat de frumoase sunt. Multumesc!
Void - Part 2

Characters: Johnny x y/n
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 1,464

part 1 Part 2 part 3

A/N:  I am so sorry for the delay, guys. But you all must know how hard school is. Anyway, I tried my best to come up with something which doesn’t disappoint any of you. You all looked forward to it so much, the last thing I could do was write something disappointing. Criticisms are most, most, most welcome. Please lemme know how you feel of it. 

And, while writing this I was listening to my UB’s beautiful song, I hope he brought out the best in me.

Love,
Admin Ayu ♥

“Y/n, I love you to the point I can’t function and process things properly when I think of you. You’re all I think about, and loving you has taught me to care about so many other things I never even found important. I love you so much it – it numbs me…” he sniffed by the end of the sentence, not being able to look you in the eyes, “If you give me one chance to make you happy, I swear to keep you the happiest, and never ever hurt you, ever. I love you, y/n” he took your hand in his large, trembling ones. His tears fell on the back of your hands, and you looked up at him, your senses filled with awe and admiration, and mostly love.

   “You fill the void in my heart with love and hope.”

   And, you had left everything for him. Your job, your home, your town, your family and friends; everything. All the sacrifices you had made back then didn’t feel so at all, since you were in love him. However, you were at a point in your life where you had already left behind so many things, that you could care less, very less.

  Shortly after he left you, you applied for a visa to Paris. You had always dreamed of settling down in the city which itself was the most beautiful embodiment of art and love in your eyes. However, you had never thought the time would come so fast, you had never thought that circumstances will force you to adapt to an environment you were planning to embrace when you were much older, in the arms of your just-as-old significant other.

  But you had to, all by yourself, leaving your 10-month-old baby at Johnny’s doorsteps. The fact that you had exhibited the vilest of all cowardice was a fact not left unknown to you. But you couldn’t process properly, couldn’t stop your head from dizzying furiously around your own little world whenever anything that could even merely indicate to him came around. Your little daughter was no less than a personification of the love you two once shared, or at the very least the love you had for him.

  So one bright morning, you gently placed your sleeping daughter at his doorstep, with only a letter and a bank account number from which he would receive some money every month for your daughter’s expense.

  And you left.

  Paris was a beautiful city, a wonderful place to live in. Your love for art had reincarnated, which was overshadowed by your love for him for what it felt like ages. It offered you with the love you thought that none but only living beings could offer. When you went to Paris where even walls screamed creativity and art, it seemed to you as if all the emotions ever felt in heavens and on earth were gathered in that one city, and you could finally belittle your own sorrow.

  Six years flew by and you turned thirty-five. You had managed to make new friends but no one gave you the feeling you had left behind, the love of a family. You wanted to see your daughter, who was to turn seven in two months. For her sake you had kept in touch with him through letters and he told you everything there was to know. You knew every little detail of her, and you were glad to know that his wife was fulfilling all her roles a mother usually does, quite willingly.

  She loves our daughter as her own, y/n. Only if you could get to see the bond they share, I’m sure you’d have asked for nothing more in life.

  Her eyes are just like yours, her smile and her frown are yours too. She is so beautiful, and when she says my name in answer to people’s inspection of her father, she sounds just like you.

  I realised something recently, her birthmark is also beneath her navel! She’s just a younger version of you, y/n.

  Somewhere in between the exchange of such mails you grew to love him more, and you detested that grow within you. The years you spent in Paris, you spent them expecting to fall in love with someone, but that never really happened. You couldn’t find anyone you could give your heart to the way you had surrendered it to Johnny, and the love you felt so greatly for him prior to your new life had influenced all other loves you could feel. None of them came to you as feverishly as your love for Johnny had. So, you never felt enough zeal or fortitude to infuse in the thriving quest to pursue any of them.

  However, his letters could also influence you to a good point, almost just as well as he himself used to. So after a month or two of your birthday, you took out a small luggage from the back of your cupboard, selecting the necessary commodities and clothes with caution for a week of stay. You were not planning to do much. Just meet some old friends, your old boss and colleagues, the loving neighbours you had when you were a Mrs. Suh, and take a look at your daughter from afar.

The fifteen-hour-journey had left you jetlagged, but your heart thumped hard against your chest as you took in the view of Seoul from your hotel room. You had a smile stretching your lips, though quite uncertain of how to label it. Because you couldn’t deny the glee, nor could you totally diminish the poignancy in your heart.

  Before you knew it the day of your departure had arrived. The flight was due an hour before midnight, so you had the day to yourself. As planned, you went to the park where your daughter played every Sunday.

  You were wearing a snapback, your hair tied up, a muffler wrapped around your neck covering the lower half of your face. You discreetly stood behind a tree, and it took you less than a minute to spot your daughter among the kids. ‘Oh lord…’ you thought to yourself, ‘She looks even more like me up close.’ The photos surely did a poor job to highlight the resemblance she held to you.

  You silently shed tears with a proud smile as you observed your daughter. She was a lively child with the brightest smile, her heart open to experimenting new things and welcoming new kids and befriending them. She bonded well with everyone around, and to your delight, everyone received her just as well. While taking the pleasure of seeing your daughter, you kept an eye out for Johnny and his wife, who were supposed to be at the nearby church.

  However, surprises come to you from where you least expect it.

  “I thought I’d never see you again.” You heard Johnny’s voice say from behind you, your shoulders jerking to the presence you didn’t wish for, “Welcome back to Seoul, y/n.”

  You wanted to turn around to see his face for once, up close. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so any longer. So you turned your head a little to the side, whispering an apology and a goodbye; before closing your eyes and running to the car your had borrowed, getting in it in a hurry and driving away.


You wiped your last tears as you sipped your third cup of coffee, rereading Johnny’s letter for the umpteenth time. A week after your return to Paris, you received his letter and took it to your favourite café by Seine River, Cojean Louvre.

Y/n, I won’t blame you for running away from me. I do realise it must have been hard for you to have found me when that is probably the last thing you wanted on your visit. It’s okay, don’t feel bad about having bailed on me so harshly. I just hope you find love, I really do. I hope someone fills the void in your heart with love and hope, too.

 

  “I just hope you find love, I really do.”
  “I hope someone fills the void in your heart with love and hope, too.

 

  His kindness was driving you to an extreme point of insanity, and the only way to return from it was to invest yourself in what you loved the most. In your head, you had already started putting colours together in a beautiful harmony, thinking of how to spill them on your white canvas later on. However, before your trail of thoughts could set a proper and aligned order to satisfy you, the man who was occupying the table behind yours spoke up in Korean;

  “Coffee is not very good for your health, why don’t you try some strawberry shake?”



P. S - Who do you think he was? ;)
         Lemme know~

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