Death is all I want to test now. I have had a glimpse at everything possible. Death, can you find me please?
I am this. Now, you should know that I won't push you to a wall I haven't pushed myself to first.
I'd rather get there first, then wait, if you’ve got the guts to join me there.
I am this, understand— I don’t desire to be loved unconditionally unless I first love without conditions.
This is love, baby, and all it means is for us to be a little bit more fair to each other.
The heart goes cold. The heart grows old. The repetition of moments be it trembling or joyous. The heart loses it all in the end.
We have been given this one life, what much can we do with it apart from living as our hearts crave.
We have been given this one life and sadly you can’t live it all within the game of risking yet, confusingly those who risk it at most get out totall liberated.
@lifepath25
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Darkness comes on once in a while, it’s hard to escape it completely. A few who have triumphed escaping it are geniuses, precious and are lucky. To the rest of us, darkness visits once in a while
You have hidden long enough, isn’t time to spill yourself ? Maybe to showcase the little you think you have. It might be huge. It might catch you by surprise. It might conquer us all.
10 posts
10 posts
10 posts
its all easy
when you just do it.
And I felt it— the weight that kept me in bed, a heavy stone on my back.
My mom had paid hefty fees for private school, but even that couldn’t make me smile— or, to say it right, help me understand myself.
Worse, my dad loved me, but even with what others yearned for, I was no happier than them.
So, in my bed, I realized— I had to find myself, to accept myself, to love myself first, before the other loves could truly reach me.
And maybe then, I could pursue the happiness I wanted. As hard as it might be, the stars had assured me— it was a hopeful gamble, maybe.
Birds flying out of there nests, the sun unwrapping itself for the day some geniuses are being born and some are breathing there last. In the same chaos the fearful are sneaking into the world as if they can do a thing or two in it. Others fearfully in defeat escape it, they have lived it all not as they wanted but as fear mapped it out for them.
"Who do you know, boy?" "Me—a hell of a lot of myself." "Isn't that enough?"
The wanderer children book concept art illustration