Mal du siècle

i wanna lie down and stare at you while you talk about your interests

LAY DOWN ON THE GRASS. GO FOR A WALK WITHOUT ACTUALLY GOING ANYWHERE. READ BOOKS BY THE RIVER. LISTEN TO ANYTHING YOU LIKE WHILE BAKING A CAKE. SCREAM BAD LYRICS. TAKE AESTHETIC PICTURES. WRITE WITHOUT CARING HOW YOUR HANDWRITING LOOKS LIKE. PAINT EVEN IF YOU DON'T DO IT NICELY. STICK DIY BAND POSTERS ON YOUR BEDROOM WALL. JUST. FUCKING. BE. DROWNED. IN. JOY.

Some people are just more lovable than others.

romanticism is: if you think it in this way, we are the moon and as for the sun, it represents everything we do. While the rays (in this matter, our daily activities: reading, texting, spending time with your family and pets...), they rub off on us. The moon emits the same light as the sun; We give off the energy of our likes and dislikes and the people we meet or talk to.

I went on the balcony and looked up at the little enchanted stars sparking so far above my little silhouette this evening, there was something so magical about this sight. I thought: all these days I've been busy doing schoolwork and the routine was killing me which is why I inadvertently deprived myself of this charm. Then I've realised that the stuff I was busy with are not as important as the beauty before me and that the things we tend to trivialize are more important than the ones we lay emphasis on on a regular basis.

And there I was thinking about how love would not come to me because of all the pretty people who look nicer than me and are more liked.

Creating playlists about people as if they can hear the lyrics you are pouring your heart in by listening to them and feel the love you have for them. It's a non-existant mutual understanding.

I was longing for the things I wanted to happen to me, but how do I expect suchlike romantic gestures towards me if I cannot bring myself to produce these? How do I expect people to come to me when I don't go to them? How do I await friendship when I can't make a single move? How do I hope for hand-written letters if I haven't written one myself? But then again, would I be drowning my personality if I did such things or would I be steps further in discovering my identity?

And then I realized... I hadn't yet moved on; he was still in my dreams; I was still thinking about us. Sometimes we tell ourselves that we are over it in order to carry on, to let the waves of life carry us through storms and sunny bright lagoons again. Because here's the truth, humans are the ultimate cowards. We fear more than our level of braveness can amount to.

It's not happening because I got excited about it.