Guess Who Finished Reading A Book After Year And A Half... Bid Farewell Till After Another Year Add Or

guess who finished reading a book after year and a half... bid farewell till after another year add or brb in a week, you know, depends

“The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Will you reach for my heart when my mind screams with fear? Will you reach for my heart when my eyes are bloodshot with tears? Will you reach for my heart when all the unsettling thoughts are spilling out of me? Will you reach for my heart when my exhaustion is spitting rage and frustration your way? Will you reach for my heart when you don't understand anything of what I'm trying to explain? Will you reach for my heart when my demons drag me in a dance? Will you reach for my heart when it's just a pile of sharp, shattered shards? Will you reach for my heart when I'm roaming on the edge of a knife again and again? Will you reach for my heart time and time again?

Is your love brave enough?

Emily Yvonne, Will You Reach For My Heart?

My existence cannot seem to cope with the aggravating fact that it's humanly impossible to live out all the aesthetics which are part of my soul, [lest if even a pinch of only one of them is missing I am incomplete] at once while also being aesthetically pleasing and coherent, as well as satisfied with the current aesthetic expression at all times.

I find it interesting, this human tendency to cling and clutch onto something that is bad and hurtful, only because we're thoroughly acquainted with it, rather than explore something new, something unknown, with a chance of it being better or even good.

It seems we truly love staying in our zone of toxic comfort out of sheer familiarity.

It's like living in a town you grew up in, yet 've been promising yourself to leave because you hate everything about it. However, when the time comes, you don't go. You stay. Why? Because "I know where all the shops are." "I know how the buses come and go." "I know my way through the streets, I won't get lost."

I won't get lost...

One doesn't live in that town 'cause they like the architecture, or the people who live there too, or because it has blooming parks and good memories tied to the primary school. They just know there are buildings, people, parks and a primary school. None of them which they actually ever really liked.

But the knowledge of the fact that they are there, makes them calm. I know everything that lurks here so nothing can surprise me. Nothing unexpected. Nothing that I wouldn't know how to deal with.

I can't get lost...

There lies a certainty in the known hence safety and control.

It doesn't matter that it doesn't make me happy nor that I find no fulfilling purpose in it, why would I give up my control? Why would I risk my comfort?

Only a fool wants to live in fear.

That's all very understandable

but it's also just one big 'make your choice' video game. You've played it time and time again, therefore you know every possible outcome. All you then do is press Restart and you can pretend you live life again. Safely, under your control. And nothing ever changes.

Yeah..

This kind of control is false. It's something fear and a desperate longing for peace tricks us into thinking we have in our comfort zone.

Probably because we're constantly afraid we don't have control over our lives, hence we don't live them as we want to, hence we'll never be able to achieve our urgently desired peace. Or maybe it is just a poorly made up definition - that peace equals us being fully in control... which is humanly impossible.

Even funnier it gets when we realize how we don't even see this. The toxic comforts become a part of us subconsciously and sometimes very early on. Letting go of them [have] never crossed our mind because why would I give up a part of my identity? It feels wrong and unnatural despite the fact that I'd be letting go of something that's been harming me... but I'm used to it. I'm familiar with it. This is who I've always been.

Well, have you?

enemies to lovers but its just me and my brain