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| Whoever proclaimed "it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" must've either never been in love, or else a raging dumbass.
it's 3 in the fucking morning and i'm pondering on love, wondering how the world could possibly see any sort of greatness in such a vexatious epidemic as love.
if you look at love logically, it is an impossible object of desire to make logical, rational sense out of.
most people like to look at love from afar, the outside, and admire it like they would the eiffel tower.
the eiffel tower looks absolutely breathtaking at night from a far enough distance.
but without the darkness shading its flaws and its lighting's illumination highlighting its unique structure, it is nothing but a tall, ample dick conjured up of a bunch of rusty, metal poles.
love is like the eiffel tower: a mere illusion of beauty and romance for the delusional and ignorant.
falling in love's like gambling all-in on a bluff in poker; you either win the pot, or you lose everything.
eventually, you learn to play it smart and not gamble in as much of yourself unless you're absolutely positively sure that you will win with your hand. but winning on those odds rides on a static of 1 out of 2,598,960, the statistical chance of you receiving a royal flush, the only guaranteed win.
playing it smart may win you some chips sometimes, but the average player may only gain as much as they've gambled away, probably less. and even if there is a chance of a small gain, you must gamble yourself in to play; which would mean you must invest and risk losing a part of yourself for a very miniscule chance of a real gain. so why do we play?
because of the exaggerated romanticism in the idea of winning the jackpot: it's an incredibly dangerous idea that is latched instantly to the human soul for a flashy instant...that very brief moment of liveliness before the table reveals your losing fate; for it is a deadly addiction in disguise. your addicted soul's illogical delusions towards the slim chance of a gain screams "just once more."but it'll be almost impossible to get yourself out of the addiction of the game, til you're buried in a horridly monstrous debt.
when that debt becomes the equivalent to losing a whole or more of yourself, is it worth it?
addicts have no logical answer to that question, therefore i have none.
love is like a hyped medical cure for loneliness and curiosity, with a 99% chance of excruciating side effects. try it, i dare you.
love, in a realist's eyes, is self-injury. you're choosing to do something that'll hurt you, like reaching for a burning stove with your bare hands, hoping it won't burn you...hoping that the stove will turn off or burn out by some miraculous chance by the time your fingers reach its burning rims.
...like putting your soul through a continuous, never-ending cycle of death.
your emotions, unfortunately, have a vast amount of lives. i have yet to find out exactly how many we all have within ourselves, but the idea with that is that you can kill yourself inside as many times as you choose to, and you can only hope that the cycle of emotional suicide will end when, after a good amount of basically killing your own soul and dying inside because of your own twisted and illogical will to love again, you might realize that falling in love might possibly be the most idiotic fucking thing you can ever do to yourself ever again.
those who've never really experienced the absolute impossible, incurable pain caused by the failure of love will stay delusional and seek what they have never experienced. but in my opinion, some things are better left unfelt.
the pain caused by love feels like a teasing brush from death. most who experience the torturous pain would only wish that death would silence it for good.
and no, whatever doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger... it only leaves you mostly dead.
If you ask me, if the pain was as excruciating as being even a step close to death, i choose death. a peaceful, painless, dreamless slumber forever.
even as i rant in disbelief on this completely psychotic and suicidal attempt towards happiness we have all adapted and chosen to endure through, the fucked up part is...
i'm going to fall in love again.
why...why the fuck...why the fucking fuck would i fucking do that??!?
for the thrill? for the chase? for the crooked warmth...for the temporary high?
maybe i'll became dazed at the idea of its beauty, forgetting to examine the ugliness of the rusty tower from closeup in the revealing broad daylight of realism.
maybe i'll become another hopeless addict that'll believe through the delusion of my addiction that i got smarter in the game, forgetting i've already lost in being caught up in the eye-fooling image of its non-existent fortune.
maybe i'll forget how it feels to want to stab your fucking chest in with a knife, carve out your heart, and chuck it as far away as possible from your aching body to stop that fucking feeling of self-destructive disappointment and painfully lonesome madness that screeches within you with the loudest, most agonizing of silence.
maybe i'll forget that like a mirage, love only holds the illusion of paradise that'll slam you down to reality as you see the truth behind the deception your eyes play... the unquenchable thirst your heart holds... only to be left in an endless, empty dessert.
why the fuck...
but someday, inevitably, i know i will again end up wishing only to sleep forever, as i will try again to manage the brush of death's painful, torturous kiss to my suicidal soul and again i'll ponder on the reasons of why the world bothers.
...then i'll throw an all-in, "just once more..."
'try it...i dare you.' | | |
| A certain, indescribable beauty lies in sadness...
One that’s shattered by anger
And bred in the absence of hope.
And only through this sadness do we see
What is truly beautiful
And pure
And what can outstand all tears brought from misfortune. -me | | |
| lose pain : Live♥happy : Grab a loada l a l p l a l t l h l y l
cuz it always works for me :) | | |
| Jennie.
On one pouring Sunday morning or should I say early afternoon, I awoke in anger from a dream I would rather erase from my mind. The dream was quite ironic in a way because just he night before, I had contemplated on getting a Dream Catcher to catch all night frights that might come my way, but decided that if I were to get one, It would be a receptor of the frights that nightmares may bring, but it would also diminish all pleasant dreams with it. So I decided against getting one, as I drifted off into what I thought would be a peaceful, serene sleep. I woke this morning from a dream that seemed so real. There was nothing that I saw, or conversations that I had that seemed even a little bit unreal. I had dreamed that my former love, whom I hate to be in an agonizing, one-sided love with still, and he was everywhere I seemed to run away to. I had a dream that he was there, ignoring my presence with the same coldness and arrogance he had the day he left me for another woman. I felt that hollow emptiness inside all the moments that I had to witness him being in my life (although it wasn’t real) that slowly turned into loneliness. For some reason, we were in a pool. Separate pools. Mine was full of families, and he was swimming laps. I remembered from our relationship in the past that he didn’t like water and hoped that he would show is disabilities with water in the lap pool but instead, he swam so fast he would out swim the most elite Olympic swimmer. Feeling even more insecure, I started walking and treading water around the crowd of people, feeling more and more isolated as the volume people grew around me, with ever step I took. It was as the if the people surrounding me were ghosts, and I would feel the same in that crowded pool if I were to tread water in an empty one. Then, at that moment of agonizing loneliness, I saw my best friend. A sense of relief warmed me inside. I talked to her as if I were awake, told her how that one weakness in my life was real and breathing in the same setting as we were standing in at that very moment. She encouraged me and told me he wasn't worth feeling insecure over, and helped me fill that void that I felt as soon as I spotted his presence. At that moment, I saw him get out of the pool, his tall, lanky figure still the same as I remembered from 3 years ago, awkwardly walking out of the pool. He still had that arrogant air in him as he walked away, as if he was aware of my presence and wanted me to know that he didn’t care for me anymore. But the thing was, I was ok. Because my best friend was there with me, making fun of his awkwardness and false sense of pride with me. That’s when I realized that this dream symbolized a change in me. Who I had been in the past had walked away with the arrogant, uncaring David in the pool, and who I have become stayed with the one who truly cared about me. Although she has much teasing and sarcasm in her voice always, I know I could count on her to use that same sarcasm in a humorous manner to cheer me up in a rainy day. She still cracks up at little inside jokes between us from middle school, and makes me feel secure in my self-identity when I act childish because she’s just as childish, if not more, as I am. And even though she loves talking like she’s consumed in “dark and evil cruelties” , at the same time, she’s the most caring, tender-hearted person I have ever met.
And I have realized today that she is here with me, not just through my harsh storms of reality,
but to protect me in my dreams. This afternoon, I realized that’s how real our friendship, and how much she truly cares for me. And this pouring Sunday afternoon, I type to the sound of raindrops, thinking not of the one I once loved.
I can only keep writing the testimony of the day I felt the unconditional love of true friendship. Only I hope that I could one day repay the favor to her on one pouring Sunday afternoon. | | |
| I'm trying to calculate in my head
Why what you did is justified
Yet, my heart feels torned
Throwing up regret
To why I let you through my door.
Again, I lay dead
in defeat
wonder why i repeat my folly
but i know i'll go back
to pain and rejection
I am a fool for Love... Love scarred me so deep
i don't believe
and yet, i still see the grays
black and whites
and reds
of memories. Kicking the habbit
leaving it out of sight,
out of mind
i need to leave
i need to go...
i need to run away
from the memories of what's left. It's impaired my vision to see love
instead when hate knocks on my door
to see good,
when evil lies embedded in my path
my blindfold sees lies
as truth
and yet once again i justify the actions
of those who see me behind enemy lines... my vision is blurred
my heart is numb
and all feeling has left my soul
yet, it will return, i assure you,
because you are nothing but a mere speckly mistake
i will soon learn to forget... | | |
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