♥ ♡ Kayla ♥ ♡

Last Login:
December 2nd, 2023

Gender: Female

Age: 35
Country: United States

Signup Date:
January 30, 2022


03/13/2023 09:31 PM 

Beauty is the beginning
Current mood:  artistic

The ability to see beauty is the beginning of our moral sensibility. What we believe is beautiful we will not want only to destroy.


People change. People move on. Life is like.. this ongoing routine and we just can't stop time. We can't freeze those beautiful moments that make us or push away those crushing times that break us. Life is living. Good and bad. But sometimes we just forget how beautiful the world around us is. We forget how beautiful life is.


There is one thing that's always different. The sky. The evening before, the sunset brings darkness to the sky, wiping it clean. And then the morning comes and God paints this beautiful brand new masterpiece. The sun making the clouds golden, and this incredible feeling just comes over me. it brought tears to my eyes. Looking to the sky and think it is one of the most beautiful things I ever seen.


I looked at all the people living life day to day. I see these people every day. Today I saw something different. I saw souls. I saw eternal happiness and I saw eternal death. It was one of the most scary things I've ever seen. Some of us know where we're going. Are we reaching out to the broken or are we judging them because they haven't found the answer yet?
And those are the questions that make us. Are you doing what you're called to do or are you living life for you? Are you seeing the true simple beauty of faith? Are we truly and completely living like you were dying? We all need to take a step back and remember what is really important. I see a future for us. I see a future for all of us. I see love and trust and honesty and never failing faith. I see it coming, and I can’t let him down.

02/15/2023 10:21 PM 

My Twisted Vines of Anxiety
Current mood:  anxious

To be honest, a lot has happened this month, a lot of tears, anger, and fears. It was more of a wake-up call.  A lot I think was my fault and a lot I think was anxiety. I know I have anxiety, I've always had it I think. Maybe it is time for me to do something about it. You know there have time times this year that my anxiety and depression have been coming in waves some strong that have knocked me off my feet like this month. Then there have been some times with unexplained calm and peace.

Sometimes anxiety has made me silent and frozen. I feel trapped in a prison of my own fear, unable to cry out for help.

Sometimes anxiety makes normal life feel overwhelming. Everything seems like it is too much. Going to school seems like it is too much, and going to work is too much. Working in a retail environment with constant drama, and people it is too much.

Sometimes anxiety makes me unable to handle (read) texts or messages from friends or even have open communication because if I do my mind will spin out of control. I think this is a reason why I can't seem to hold on and have friends because I feel like my anxiety is playing tricks on me and that everyone has this secret agenda against me when it is not true at all.


My anxiety causes me to feel physically ill, with headaches, stomach aches, and knots in my back and neck from stress.

Sometimes it feels like I am completely alone in a crowded room or store. No, I have not been to a doctor about any of these feelings, but I know I need to eventually. 

I suppose you can say anxiety makes me feel things differently. Like I do things that are completely out of character because I was triggered. Another thing is that the worst thing that I did to myself was put myself in a position over and be triggered all over again. It is sad because I solemnly vowed to protect myself from it. I suppose it was foolish of me to think I could have friends and be liked. It was foolish to think I could really trust people and yet foolish foolishly and unknowingly gather the twists and the vines of my poison anxiety around my mind warping any clear thought I ever once had about friendship. 

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