1 year ago
Deuxième partie

Days. Weeks. Months. Maybe even years being emotionally attached. Things started to change. What seemed to take love to a whole different level is officially declared an unknown, disgusting son of a bitch. Nights of frustration. Loneliness started to kick in on a daily dosage. You could have wondered. What the fuck am I doing with my life. Why did I put myself in such a miserable shithole. I thought love was supposed to be perfect. It shouldn’t hurt this much….

Pulling through every other day with the same routine. You wash your face of yours every morning and look yourself in the mirror. My face. Your face showed signs of depression and scars from the love battlefield. You see your reflection screaming back at you. Asking where all your fucking youth had gone to. And you could do nothing, only to walk away. Because nothing could give what love gave. You even got immune to pain, just to salvage the comfort and pleasure that no one other than love can give. You kept holding on…until…

Just to make it clear. This is NOT a love story. Not your typical Cinderella and Prince shit. Wake up to reality.

This is the part when somewhere in your endeavour with love, you realize yourself crying to sleep more than you used to. Been to the extend that you wish you could slaughter everyone in your way. Something’s not right. But go figure. You never will.

Here’s a consolation. You have a heart. Fully capable of feeling every bit of pain. Cheers to that..

(To be continued)

1 year ago with 3 notes
Teenage romances entry tonight. Kinda got inspired after reading my cousin’s post after a break up closure. 

The definition of being a teenager - a process of growing old with a mix of bitter-sweet tragedies. Perhaps with a tinge of depression and self destruction.

You never actually found out when you started noticing a person until one fine fucking day, the butterflies in your stomach decided to tell you, “bitch, you’re in love!”

And you’ll either be going, “fuck, here’s the start of heartaches all over.” Or “this time it’ll be different…” 

With love comes despair. With companion comes loneliness. You will never be too sure of what you’re getting into. Just for the record, this post is strictly for people who were or are looking for a SERIOUS relationship. Not the mediocre fuck-friend or fling shit. I really give no fucks.

And you finally got a date with the person who’s responsible for those damn butterflies. Alls shy and giggly during first dates. You probably can’t count the number of times you blushed or when you almost died because your heart was racing so quickly. 

Addicted. You wanna get memorized by those feelings again. You wanna feel loved. Feel wanted by someone special. If you have these feelings. Congratulations,you’re in love and there’s no fucking way of getting out without getting hurt. I mean, that is if you have a heart. 

Unbeknownst to you, you’re in an actual relationship. You find yourself channelling most of your time to love. Thousands or texts. Thousands of calls. Never-ending conversations. Days shrank shorter and nights grew longer. How you fucking wish you were married. That my dear…is known as “The Honeymoon Period”.

Your heart then finds its way deeper into surrealism….deeper into…love.

(To be continued)

Teenage romances entry tonight. Kinda got inspired after reading my cousin’s post after a break up closure.

The definition of being a teenager - a process of growing old with a mix of bitter-sweet tragedies. Perhaps with a tinge of depression and self destruction.

You never actually found out when you started noticing a person until one fine fucking day, the butterflies in your stomach decided to tell you, “bitch, you’re in love!”

And you’ll either be going, “fuck, here’s the start of heartaches all over.” Or “this time it’ll be different…”

With love comes despair. With companion comes loneliness. You will never be too sure of what you’re getting into. Just for the record, this post is strictly for people who were or are looking for a SERIOUS relationship. Not the mediocre fuck-friend or fling shit. I really give no fucks.

And you finally got a date with the person who’s responsible for those damn butterflies. Alls shy and giggly during first dates. You probably can’t count the number of times you blushed or when you almost died because your heart was racing so quickly.

Addicted. You wanna get memorized by those feelings again. You wanna feel loved. Feel wanted by someone special. If you have these feelings. Congratulations,you’re in love and there’s no fucking way of getting out without getting hurt. I mean, that is if you have a heart.

Unbeknownst to you, you’re in an actual relationship. You find yourself channelling most of your time to love. Thousands or texts. Thousands of calls. Never-ending conversations. Days shrank shorter and nights grew longer. How you fucking wish you were married. That my dear…is known as “The Honeymoon Period”.

Your heart then finds its way deeper into surrealism….deeper into…love.

(To be continued)

1 year ago with 15 notes
#Quote #inspiration #regrets #fear (Taken with Instagram)

#Quote #inspiration #regrets #fear (Taken with Instagram)

2 years ago with 26 notes
 #quote #inspiration #anger #Buddha  (Taken with Instagram)

 #quote #inspiration #anger #Buddha (Taken with Instagram)

2 years ago with 2 notes
2 years ago with 25 notes
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