We are condemned to consume ourselves and unleash our true selves, for small moments of happiness. We are destined to be the most barbaric of men as long as we get a little bit of that little that everyone calls happiness. Our being is linked to the attic that we do not want to open for fear of meeting our true self; we keep ourselves in a box full of memories disguised as goodness that are nothing more than facades. Our soul is linked to the horror that the human being may be able to unleash, we try to contain it but at the end of the day between the night and the whispers our body gives way to the monster that hides under a nice neckline or some leather jacket. We are by nature, monsters hidden between shadows and light, who one day will go out to get some air, and will never want to return to the trunk.
When one falls in love with another, it’s not always feels like riding roller coaster, laughing all the way through the sky as you fly from that seat, jumpy and bumpy.
Sometimes it’s simply that feeling to sit with them while doing practically nothing, and turning to look at them and realizing just how beautiful and wonderful they are to you. How much they’ve done for you and how much you cherish their existence, and you know? That’s my favorite way of falling in love, because you were already in love, you’re just realizing it now.
Love the one who has always been with you, forever and a day, the one will always be there with you. Keep them close to your side, laugh with them, cry with them, love with them. Even when they leave, you know they won’t always be gone…
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And darling, it felt like in the awakening of his own history, in which: It seemed never to have belonged; where undoubtedly everything important had ended by not happening. In which each event seemed to be part of a foreign memory. He took the only thing he had for sure at the moment: his story; he placed it in a suitcase, and promised never open to anyone; he was going to get to know about her again. It was well worth a try; he said to himself: To be like something invisible to the inexperienced eye: To all that insensitive love, and perhaps something that ceased to be only worldly ... Now everything seems possible: A loving love, a free path. A life as if it were new. Another game of dream, in a play of charm..
Does not exist. Is not found. It will not appear. It is just one more story that they tell us throughout our lives, one more vulgar lie, a very distorted truth. It is a path of thorns and broken glass that make you look like a green meadow full of flowers and trees, it is undoubtedly a painful path that will not lead you to the right person, never, because it is not in this universe. Perhaps none. It is a flash of dreams and hopes that cruelly turned into a children's story. The correct person does not exist because, nobody is correct or perfect in the eyes of the world.
The wrong person.
I should tell you, will be the one who makes you smile every day with just two seconds, will be the one who makes and undoes your world in a snap of the fingers, will be the one who will kill your dignity and will undoubtedly be the one who will teach you the most lessons.
And one day it may disappear as fast as it came, it may also stay, but the right person will never take you through that green meadow, but through the destructive path of thorns and broken glass, that even if it does not seem beautiful will present itself as such, because with each step, light will be projected making it look less horrendous and more profitable.
There, where you can be.. Where you have the peace of mind to say what you feel without being accused.. There, where you can be.. Where they take care of you and not only smoothing words.. There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where they check your soul to see what you like and not your cellphone.. There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where they understand you without you having to explain yourself.. There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where they do not tell you that you lie just to cover that they are actually lying to you ... There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where they don't fill you with insecurity and make you want to look forward without bullshit.. There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where there are no lies that screw everything up, where they do not underestimate you and take you for granted.. There you stay.. There, where you can be.. Where their masochism or feminism do not clash to each other.. There you stay.. And when I say there, I mean a chest, a person, a heart, not a place.. Because it does not matter if it is a square with mate in hand or the most luxurious bar in the world ordering champagne.. When they are the right person.. You are happy anywhere.
Sadness is a unique emotion. full of sensitivity, sublime and artistic, innocent and pristine, which does not undress before anyone, on the contrary, it is channeled to go unnoticed by dressing up, with the colorful attire of melancholy spilled in multiple notes; music; millions of shades; painting; bittersweet words: writing or simply in the sumptuous beauty of the teacher that few want to know: Loneliness.
And it is that people live deceived when they see my image, when I show myself in front of the public. I am a coin spinning in the air. With the two opposite faces. The charm and the soul. The appearance and the truth. Evil and light. Sin and justice. The calm and the storm. Nobody really knows what I think, what I feel. What I'm looking for in this life. Because I don't even know. I just keep looking for the missing pieces. Growing in the ways I find, always seeking to give the best of myself. I do not regret what happened, nor do I worry about the future. Maybe today is when I left. And I am not worried, nor uneasy. I am relaxed, because I always felt that in any way I have already been touching the sky. And if I keep moving forward, I only know that I will go higher and higher. There may even come a day where my feet will rise above the clouds. May the Sun be right behind my head, like a crown. Whatever happens. I did everything really well, and if I think I could have given more, it is because I gave everything I had. And still I saw myself capable of continuing and giving more. And that on the inside only increases my value. It makes me gold even if you don't believe it, and that's why I am a coin spinning in the air. Because I am the luck that once was misfortune. --bhuvvii
Many times people do not understand what it is to really live with us. What it's like to have to pretend to be someone else so as not to face our true self. They won't because they've never been rejected or even ever been alone, it's stupid. They believe that we are trying to victimize ourself and make ourself suffer when they don't know that we just want to cry for being us; for having to highlight our defects, what qualities, when we feel like we screw up all the time, our insecurities and anxiety increase, but nobody understands us. Nobody knows how much pain there is in the soul; how much sadness we have saved, even how many insecurities exist in the depths of our being, we only want love, we only want them to make us feel that we are what someone does not want to lose, it is silly because we do not occupy the approval of someone else, but we all need receive love, at least feel that someone likes who we are, beyond the things we don't like about ourself, I think we don't need someone to remind us of what we see in ourself; but someone who sees what we don't see in ourself.
It seems to me that we are so focused on looking for a happiness that we are not obliged to pursue and we live thinking that being happy we will find the answers, but it is the search for those answers that make us go through a state of dream where living is barely bearable, where excesses are the only ones that keep us to make existence more tolerable. Melancholy is the force that brings us to happiness, it is true. But whoever looks for one without the other will not be able to see art or make art, because we do not know of artists who have found their muse in happiness, but in depression and loneliness. And what is life without art? That is the contradiction, is happiness really the most important thing?
Thousand rats crying into the stomach Survival of entities like heartbroken inside Every moment, every night They're breathing in shadows Living in full of narrow roads Giving away the life sorrows Getting more stronger souls
Hiding behind the tore up curtains Where only can see their thirsty eyes Lips those never touched the tears Tongue could taste the snow of sky In every sleep they hide behind themselves To shine out of their own skins in a new dawn Sometimes they're dust Sometimes they're gold rust Sometimes they're rain in flowers Sometimes they're dream of hours
With all the hate and wars between The humanity, almighty and reality I sit here on the edge of the triangle Too many borders and not enough bridges I see I feel I hear, my soul pours tears Let them see the humanity Let them feel the almighty
"If I ruled the world" My eyes would be the mirror Through which the world could see The bright face of human and humanity The journey we are on is to return home After all
Life is too short. We have heard this countless times before but we realise the gravity of this phrase only when our lives are affected by this in some way. Today every person in the world is fighting for something or someone. We are faced by things which are much bigger than our own selves. There is no time to be petty. Life is in fact, too short. All we really have are numbered days. To love. To be loved. To be kind and merciful. To be helpful and gracious. To be honest and happy. To hug people and kiss them too. To say "I love you" over and over again. To thank your parents and thank those around you who've helped you grow in some way. To travel, to laugh till your stomach hurts, to eat whatever the hell you want to, to dance at 2 in the morning with your lover, to bake cookies for your kids, to bake cake for your Mother's birthday, to be respectful to the environment, to live To truly, live. We humans, we're not afraid of death; we're afraid of being alive, being too alive. Too afraid to follow our heart, too afraid to be ourselves. It sounds cliché but that doesn't make all this any less true. Please, have emotions. Please succumb to a safe pair of hands. Please live. Please love. Please, don't just exist, live. Live big. Live. Love. Love. Laugh.
Why? Why do you try so hard? Why do you try to make people love you when you say you like to be alone? You don't want attention You get rid of any emotions that try and seep into your soul and then you say, there's no one for me. There's nobody to look after me. I'm all alone.
Why? Why do you punish yourself everyday for being the way you are? For being emotional, for being sensitive? You know you wouldn't want to be any other way but still, you try your best to loathe yourself every night before you sleep hoping that the next morning would be better, if at all it ever came for you, because we both know, we are scared of another day.
Why? Why do you wish to receive love equally? Giving your heart doesn't mean that you're supposed to receive it back. Love doesn't mean reciprocating. Or perhaps it does What would I know?
It never was, it never will be. Every single day will feel like a damp day, a day when the sun doesn't shine, there's no wind outside and it's lost; the weather outside reflects your soul, lost. You'll feel that it's just another day, nothing new, nothing unusual and somehow months will pass by, nothing would feel like it moved even an inch. You'll always feel you're back to square one. Nothing would feel right or comfortable. Everything would reek of feelings, emotions you want to get rid of but can't. You try your best, everyday, I know you do. You try to heal.
Healing, is a practice to be done by the minute. Every moment you get to breathe, take it as your cells being repaired. Feel as though you are radiating love and light. Feel as though you are there for yourself because we both know, we always feel like we're alone. Lonely and alone. Unloved, uncared for. But you're not, neither am I. There's an abundance of love left to be felt, touched, kissed or leant on. Practice love and empathy with every breath you take. In order to repair the damage you do to yourself on an everyday basis, I'd say, it'll take a lot of time to be at peace. To be home, with oneself. That's my prayer, for you and I.
You make me whole. You mend me. You patch up my broken heart every time you feel my love being spilt out of the cracks. You hold my hands, you hug me, you wipe my tears and you make me laugh, it doesn't have to happen physically, I feel all this when I hear you, when I think of you, when I write about you. I say you mean the world to me, that doesn't only mean that you are everything to me, it means that I'll comfort you at nights when you're low, I'll hug you through our fights, I'll kiss you through our laughs, I'll hold you through thick and thin, I mean that you won't ever lose me, even when nothing feels right, even when the world seems to crumble around you, you won't ever be alone because it's not "you or I", it's "us". It's "Us" through peace, joy and happiness, it's "Us", through anything that is possible. Whatever I've known about love, I've known it through you. The day you walked into my life, I won't say it changed,I'd say it absolutely turned upside down. I won't say that you made me happier or calmer, I'd say that anything remotely associated with feeling happy, joyous, content or peaceful, I've felt it through you. I can say that God has been unfair to me, I don't have you here with me but I won't, for God has blessed me, He has truly been so kind to me for he blessed me with his favourite Angel. You bring immeasurable love and light into my soul because a word from you, feels like essays, I mean it feels like God's verses, his words through you. So, you mend me. You mend me and make me more myself whilst making me yours, every second of every day; I know I couldn't be more yours tomorrow but I know, I would be.
You're not lost. No matter what you think. You're not. You're in the midst of searching yourself, your dreams and habits, your likes and dislikes, the new scent you like or the new flowers you find pretty. Perhaps we could organise the parts of us we don't like, get rid of the outdated patterned habits we have, make space for new things, better things; more love, more calm, more happiness. Perhaps ever so often we could try doing things that make us grin ear to ear, as little or as big as they could be. So, you're not lost. You're in the search of who you are, maybe our entire life is a study of what our souls are made of other than stardust. Maybe it's a realisation of something of an infinity.