It Must Be Heartbreaking’s mission is to give creatives, of all backgrounds and experience, a home to share their work, blog about their journeys and network with others. We want the ugly and damaged; raw and unfiltered thoughts and feelings that drive you to create. Stories, poetry, music and art, in all forms, are welcome at It Must Be Heartbreaking.
Thank you for being a part of IMBH either in passing or by sharing your original creative work, through us, for the world to see.
Founder, It Must Be Heartbreaking
When I write, I can be myself. I can be free. I want IMBH to be your freedom; the pillow for your fears to land safely without judgement and editorial criticism. Nothing else is more pure and beautiful than the expression of being human.
Be beautiful. Be heartbreaking.
Co-Founder, It Must Be Heartbreaking
“Can you imagine how it must feel to know that you’ve already become everything you’re supposed to? To have reached your maximum potential? To have ambition, ideas, and sincerity in your actions, but for nothing? To have everything needed internally, only to have external, yet intangible, forces blocking you at every step? It must be heartbreaking. What they feel will be what humanity itself will feel someday. Overcrowded, in an all too familiar terrain, and breathless from cries for something more. To have the will to escape, but infinity between their station and the stars; and the horrific realization that this is your function. It must be heartbreaking.”
2 thoughts on “About”
The realization that Maslow’s concept of self-actualizatiom is all just a bitter joke. Becoming all that I can be, what does that mean, who am I, why must I be. Truth is only a foundational misbelieve, subjective, and tourcherous. But we breath, we laugh, we cry…realization of the truth that we are conceived into a meaningless existence. So continue to feel useless, isolated and lost, hopefully one day my experiences show me a path or better yet a meaning, till then I will just be wondering. I’ll be seeing you through the thickets of life and hopefully we can begin to navigate this Forrest they call “life”. If I fall will I even be heard?
And these, the times i awake
while others sleep.
Not yet dawn, the sun has been absent lately.
The creek of the bedroom door and heaviness of another restless night.
Lonliness setting in everytime i roll onto your side, that for some reason i keep undisturbed, again and again….
“Only the good die young” would be a heavy cliche as an eroding epitaph.
Our drawer still overflowing with dusty clothes, and small and irrevelavant keep sakes.
A spider collecting my blood from a pesky mosquito, maybe she’ll be overcome with lonliness in my DNA,
Maybe I’ll get up today,