Love And Hate - Blog Posts
Sometimes you were vulnerable and I fell in love with that but more often you were destructive and I hate that I loved you like that
Love and hate are merely two sides of obsession
Please Believe me...
INFP: hey, ENFP. you love INTJ, don't you?
ENFP: What?! No! I LOVE EVERYONE!!
ENFP: *Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me...*
====================
INFP: hey, INTJ, you love ENFP, don't you?
INTJ: What?! No! I HATE EVERYONE!!
INTJ: *Please believe me, please believe me, please believe me...*
Choas of thoughts
Sitting alone in the dark brooding night
The party in full swing yet she's left out
The nicotine in her system
Along with dreams and hopes
But she's never satisfied
Now she can't hear her thoughts
Because in her head chaos is rooted
Turning to leave or to leap into desperation
But she's fine because she knows
She knows the sting of thorns of love
She knows her drugs
She knows her love
All the pills she is high on
All the nights she'd spent crying
She knows her addiction
She knows her desperation
So she is going back
Back to where she started of.
I was never a human. I was just longing and melancholy that was shaped into one.
I don't believe in heaven or hell but if there's a hell, I'll meet you there.
And when I told you I loved the city, you set it on fire. Now I'm afraid to hand you my heart.
Oh Love, my blood staining your clothes. I bleed of not my essence but all the memories and promises you gave me. Feel it soak in your clothes, a part of us you failed to keep.
You didn't even looked at me,
While I die to see you everyday.
I hate you, I hate you so much,
Yet I can't help but wait for you.
Your heart may belong to someone else,
But i wish for your soul to be mine.
You die to hear from her everyday,
While I rot in the wait for you to be mine.
A Burning Love
Left with a bleeding heart,
An undying urge to crawl back to you.
All the shirts left behind burning in the hearth.
Was it really us that matter?
Or the ego you bring to the table?
All those flowers left at the doorstep,
I'll decorate your grave with them,
If not on your arrogance I will bury.
Don't beg for me in the evening,
When in morning you'll leave again,
Forget all the promises made,
Under the influence of my love.
You like to see me cry,
I like to see you bleed.
Your words, my feelings
My knife, your heart
A tragedy I will happily write
If you promise a last dance
Before we burn this house called love.
There's this really, really small, almost non-existent moment in the aromantic comunity people where you realize that for the first time, you are in love. You smile silly, your heart does a strange jump when they talk to you, you really want to smile at everything they say and you can't stop looking at them.
I thought this only happened in books, but no, it's real.
As an aromantic person who is dealing with love for the first time, romantic people, how do I deal with this?
Having a mother is a case of traumas and laughters.
I came home from school today and was greeted with a delivery of ONE HUNDRED coat hangers. Because according to my mother, me and my siblings have disorganized wardrobes. The problem? We're just three, me and my old bro together don't even count forty shirts.
Now my old lady is trying to figure out something to do with the extra hangers, and my brothers and I have been laughing for fifteen minutes at her confusion and impulsiveness/consumerism.