We all have it. Oh c’mon even the famous have it. But how do you handle it? Do you show it in a cute way? Or do you hide it and suppress it? Its something that is poisonous if kept hidden and ignored. It fuels anger if not properly managed (at least that is how it works for me). No words can properly mend it. Well unless you’re some nut job to can be easily be misled. I wish I was a nutjob. As the band Extreme sang it.
“More than words, is I ever need to make me feel.. that your love for me is real..”.
Again, it can be a good starting point to “wake up the dragon”. Oh! And im not paraphrasing about sex. What I meant was really anger or rage. And when it’s lighted up no amount of words can extinguish it. So always remember, thread lightly.
The thing is, some people would find it cute and might toy with it for a while. And as you play with it. It grows to be that damn dog to bite you in the ass. Then, when its all flamed and burning. They tend to fight back and try to extinguish it with fire to fire. Well now, thats just stupid. You know you cant kill fire with fire. You need the cool-calm water. Or a fire extinguisher would be best. If you have it.. and if all else fails. Just leave it be and break up. Or wait, you can also submit and say that you were a comolete moron to disregard and toy with it. Well your choice.
Would you doubt someone coming up to you with a bag full of cash and saying you can have it? Would you not ask why? Would not try to justify even in your head why the hell is he givinh you a ton cash? Of course you would, well not most of you kind though. And I’m being racist here take note. You seek reason, as to why is he even doing this? Or how in seven hells do you deserve it? We seek answers and justifications. Just to prove its reality, because we all know. That something might be in the other door waiting for the right time to sprang the perfect trap.
You can’t blame yourself for this actually. It has stem out from your “background”. Yes background! It means its where you came from. How you live your childhood, your young-adulthood. It comes from the experiences we all say are gold and should never be disregarded. Yet, we all know what those experienced turned us. If not for good but for the worst. You can never believe what they say, coz’ from what you’ve been through. All they want is to trick you. To manipulate you.
You believed them that you can’t drive yet coz your legs can’t reach the pedals yet. You believed them when they told you that your getting this as long as you’re being nice and good. Yet, in the end you didn’t. You believed them that when you did what they said you’ll be rewarded. But, it was yet another lie. Or, you believe them that she loves you. Yet, she mislead you when she ran away for a night with her ex. You believed them when they said, you’ll get this and that and nothing in return. And on the day you expect it. It was never yours after all.
Bottom line, they’d lie to you. All you can do is believed and accept what scarce truth there is.
To be continued. ..
Paranoia [ˌpærəˈnɔɪ.ə] (adjective: paranoid [ˈpærə.nɔɪd]) is a thought process believed to be heavily influenced by anxiety or fear, often to the point of irrationality and delusion. Paranoid thinking typically includes persecutory beliefs, or beliefs of conspiracy concerning a perceived threat towards oneself.
— I have suddenly felt this weird today. I was talking (texting actually) with my-lifes-moon-and-stars when I suddenly had this fear. Fear that I can’t actually point out where is comming from. The sudden water fall of ‘what ifs’. And a ton if insecurities.
I was never sure in my whole life. Until now, now I’m sure I love her. But, this some kind of demon that feeds me doubts is frightening. I’m scared to death for what I’m feeling, that I might destroy us. I might push her away. I must learn to control this anxiety. To level it.
We are two different person and we have different views on all of the things. Yet, we connect on a level which displays hope for such struggles.
I’m scared. I want to tell you. But, I don’t know how. I’ve been in all doubts all of my life. But I don’t want to doubt this. What we have. What we have is beautiful. What we have is what I prayed for all this time. I love you. I know you know that. Still it scares the shit out of me for the endless possibilities of what you and I can do to break each others hearts.
I have things of love doing that you dont like. While you have things you love doing that I dont like. It scares me. Help. :(
Ponder the Obvious.: Puckers. :*
How do I even begin to talk about lips?
How do I talk about lips in a way, that doesn’t project sensuality? Picturing those beautiful shred of linear grace on someone’s face. While he/she talks or smiles at you. Or how it curls so exquisitely when they think in utmost concentration. And…
Ponder the Obvious.: Dear Random reader,
What you’re reading is a portion, not a slice. A...
Dear Random reader,
What you’re reading is a portion, not a slice. A portion of my feelings splattered in front you. I try in God’s most infinite name, to feel okey, writing my feelings into a juxtaposed repertoire. Or at least attempt at it. Ironically, I have always been a private person in my…
Ponder the Obvious.: After over 3,000 nonsensical posts, you're all still here. :')
I stand at exactly 5”1.
Yes, I am short.
I am a plus-sized for my weight.
My thighs kisses each other while I walk.
I don’t go to gym, because I’d rather love my food than kiss goodbye to my fats. I love walking, but summer beckons skins. And I hate my uneven tanned skin. I never learned to…
fucking poetry: I like your ass a lot
I like your ass a lot.
I like the smooth round shapes and the continuous curvature below your spine.
I like the softness-over-firmness of deep muscles tensing gently in anticipation as I slip my fingers between the cheeks, fingertips finding puckered flesh and circling.
I like the way you bite…
Ponder the Obvious.: Amelia.
Aren’t you tired running around my head?
Bashing through walls of letters splattered in my cranium. Letters inked, marred, etched with your name over and over again.
Aren’t you tired looking at my eyes, and feel my wandering caress touch your soul in pleading?
My long lashes, are curtains…
Ponder the Obvious.: Labia Oris.
I’d wanna rip your lips into bits.
Fragment it into billions of stardust then let it
sedate me as I mix you with vodka.
Drink you while The Smiths blare unto my bedroom,
listen to it while I taste all the lips that shared yours.
The nicotine that seem embedded along with all the
Ponder the Obvious.: April eyes, Autumn lips.
I can still see you with my eyes closed,
the distinct features of your imperfections
like glittered glue on a broken vase.
Your eyes tell of tragic pleasantry
emeralds of lonesome solace.
Your lips unmoving
like clouds of petal blooms,
tasteful and yet too fragile to break.
I get it. I dont have that sharp chin. That spartan shoulders and chest. Or that Olympic abs. Or even the gladiator ass. But atleast have the consistency when you say thay you dont want that shallow reason on fucking someone. Atleast be that consistent. You may read this or not. You may find this or not. And I might regret what I’m about to say. But hear this out. Girls are lining up to blow me. Girls are lining up to fuck me. And girls know I have my ways on pleasuring them. I dont want to that guy who would brag of what I sacrifice for this relationship. I just want you to know that I know what I signed up for. And I’m trying my best to be atleast consistent on what I say and do.
So, fuck with your stupid ideals about sex. You don’t know what I’ve been through and what I’ve done and what I know. And please take note. Im not mad at you. I’m enraged of your inconsistency. Look at yourself and tell me who’s shallow about sex now?
In the past, I offend come here to be that ranting-bitch (hey, its my blog!) that we all hate. Now, I’m here not coz im another emotional-train-wreck. Rather, im fucking bored. Seriously! Where am I navigating my life to? Howly shit. Im doing it! Haha! Anyhow, im hungry, the fridge is full. Problem is, its full lf sweets. The damn weather is like hell we could ever imagine! Its easter. Vacs’ almost over. Tired. Bored. Damn it!