Seagulls in the inky night

Sometimes i just realize in a flash of objectivity something i don’t like. I keep laying my desire and affection on people i barely know, but that look lovable. That’s not something i choose, but it does make everyday a little less painful. That extra little spark of hope is something you shouldn’t abuse when you don’t have it, but one deals with loneliness how one can. 

Somedays just feel extra grey gloomy and hard to bear. As heavy as daily life can get, and as lonely as a hear can get, i still want to believe we end up in a happy ending eating ice cream on the beach or doing these cliché stuff. Or maybe, (that’s a really big maybe i’ll admit) we can even find our very own new meaning to love and just throw the clichés away. Anyway, here I am circling my thoughts, lost in the spire. 

Sometimes you feel like the person you need is not this far, just a few walls away. But at the same time, the god damn walls are so thick that reaching through seems impossible. I’ll just fire the flares and hope you notice and end up stranding on my shore. 

Maybe romance is just like happiness, you need to find small bits of it spread around. The Great and Good are too long to wait for, and we’re so much better off building out own definition of romantic. Let’s be frank, some silences are way more romantic than flowers & chocolate. 

I try so hard to read you, to see through the cracks like i usually do. But I just can’t see anything when I look at you I’m just blinded by this aura. It’s actually a paradox to be so discreet and yet shine so much. In the end, you’re kinda like a star : you keep on shining but people don’t always notice. I did tho, and I wish i could tell you, but I know i won’t. 

Ending a book always feels like a tragedy, for a very simple reason. If you look closely, you’ll find out that books are just your many best friends. You spend time with them, take them to various places, sometimes take a break from them, you live intense moments at their side, and in the end you hope they’ll always be there. Well then treat your books well people, you never know when you’re gonna need a good story to cheer you up. 

So if love is what is meant to make one become who one has to be, and is the reason we are in the first place, a good half of the humanity never found its purpose ... Life is a series of events that you can deal with in whichever way you like, so you choose the destination. But people who don’t find love, what, they miss the bloody fucking train ? That sucks for them, thank you JG really, what a relief to be doomed to a misguided wandering ... 

“You serve whatever you worship” - Turtles all the way down, John Green That is both scary and hella exciting. It is scary because sometimes we worship anything really, so we just serve a random cause. But it’s thrilling too because you get to choose what the purpose of your life will be. I’d pronounce on what i think I’d worship, but it’s too early for that. Or is it ? Fuck it. I’d worship Sensuality, Carefulness, Dreams, Charisma, but in the end, i think i’ll just go with all of them. Not choosing is undeniably a form of choice.

It’s silly to have your skin to be constantly on fire, no matter what you do. Do not misunderstand me, i don’t mean pain, i mean just feeling so god damn hot all the time. No wonder global warming is hitting us, I must be a great contributor to it. 

Isn’t it ridiculous the way some songs just remain stuck inside your head forever and end up being a part of who you are in the worst ways. I can hardly tell either “Can’t stop” echoed with something that was already there or triggered something that wasn’t. Either way, i keep thinking about that one person. I don’t even know him, although i already try to give him many faces. But he’s constantly in the back of my mind, influencing my every move, because i think “What if it finally happens today, you’d wanna look good”. So i crave and dream of people i don’t or barely know just to fill up all this empty space in my heart. It’s too sad to be alone when you have so much to give ...

John Green, The fault in our stars

We could be lost souls just wandering or bloody fucking superheroes for all that I know. All I know is we’re constantly kept in the dark, for various and evolving reasons. The point is, we need to find our beacon to refer to, before we drown in our demons.