• cycles

    by  • June 16, 2011 • Art of the Letter • 0 Comments

    I can sympathize with most of the letters but i can never get over the fact that saying your heart is bleeding will NEVER sound right. It will always sound like a pop song. I don’t even know what i really want to say. You know how some times life hits you and you’re like DAMN one life, one ending. How does that not constantly blow our minds? How do every day things become so trivial and we get so caught up in a fucked up maze of issues that have no real meaning to our existence. Although, existence is sort of the opinion of personal beliefs, no one can tell you what your existence should consist of. We bump into strangers, make connections and sometimes it feels like chemicals are at work which make us attached to a certain human being more than the rest. Then we begin to form patters, hurt, cry, laugh, comfort and settle. I don’t understand it. We have a choice of what our life will be, whether it will be this epic adventure of bullshit, a tragic love story, or just catching up to our dreams. BUT YOUR HEART IS NOT BLEEDING. you are not spiraling into a pit of doom. Young ones, being all hurt and upset over love that’s lost, over guys who cheat over girls who treat them like shit. YEAH! that fucking happens. i read these because at times they hit the spot, they put my thoughts into words i can actually see. but at some point you gotta snap out of it and and STOP SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL. I’m in a cycle. every year, the exact same thing happens, almost to the T. you would think being able to spot behavior and predict the future would help a girl out, but no. no. no. no. there are forces beyond me that make me think living in the moment the right here and right now is so pleasant that i can allow myself the comfort of being loved. and because i know it will be over in a few months i won’t be as hurt, because i mean C’MON i know what’s going to happen. but silly me, 6 years doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t make you smarter and less fragile. so i am faced with two options. realize that my life is a tragic love story, or realize that i am an idiot. that i know nothing more than anyone else about this awkward chemical reaction. that i don’t really know what love means but i cling to a person because they give me the faintest feeling of reality. i don’t feel much else. i really don’t. happiness is from observing how other people act when they are happy, crying when bad things happen is because..that’s expected. laughing is robotic because sometimes i find ZERO funny in people. i’m not upset by that, because that’s who i am. and that’s also who he is. and somewhere in the middle i actually started laughing without trying and crying because i was actually hurt and attaching myself to a human being who would be the closest thing to love i had ever seen. i don’t love my family, i’m with them. i care for them. i don’t love my friends, i care for them. and human attachments are as deep as puddles. but him, even though when he leaves i gain ground in no time, i can’t live without him. it’s simple. but i hate the surrounding doubt that we have to live around. and the articles about love and the constant breaking news about infidelity. PEOPLE. c’mon. live. doesn’t dying mean anything anymore?

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