I feel a sort of joy planted in my heart. That fire that argues with me and disagrees with the things that make me, me.
We all have that fire I suppose, that regretment and self centred idea. That creature that eats us from inside out, that spider that keep us from sleeping at night, that devil who clearly likes to watch us suffer. That darkness which remind us how destroyed and lonesome you have turned yourself into. It creeps and hangs over us like a dark cloud. As much as I tried to act like it is not there, the more involved becomes in my life. The more and more the thoughts becomes daily. I wish this, I wish that, I imagine that, hope for this... I guess the more humane it makes us, the more grounded it keeps us. I like to think of being insecure and naive to the world around me, makes me dig myself more into this dark soul- called life.
Maybe the beauty is an illusion of the heart. Beauty exists, maybe not out there, maybe not the visible, maybe not the touch of it... But the meaning and the imagination that can lie behind it if we all just let it be. If we leap to these thoughts, maybe there would not be a reason for them to disappear.
Maybe the hate that lives in all of us will die. Doubt it, we all grow, and live through these situations that shows us how fucked up and useless the human race has become. We all hate, we all regret, it is called living.
Becoming and creating ourselves into the monsters we said we would never become.
Things change. But this does not mean that they get better...
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