RANDOM RAMBLES 4.0
Sunday, March 22, 2015 / 2:13 AM ♥
(Backdated post: March-April 2015, published 3 June 2015) RANDOM RAMBLES WEEK #4: The rampant nature of dis-ingenuity is jarring and unspeakably scary. Eternally questioning the complexity of human interpersonal relations; specifically the added layers of spiteful complications maliciously spawn in this web of connections, consequently darkening the quiet recesses of this labyrinth. Navigating; failing to. -- muse. The intensity of your eyes; the way fine lines creep the edges of those watery vessels when you smile.
Your smile, the delightful dance of joy in a blissful marriage between genuine happiness and cheeky flights of fancy.
Breaks into a laugh – reminiscent to the confident crashes of a waterfall, amongst shimmery mirages in radiant sunlight.
You laugh easily. You ease up when you laugh. The discovery that laughter is the gateway to your heart opened many gates that revealed other tightly-locked doors.
You are a repository of joy and sorrow; the complexity and textures of your soul fascinated fascinates me to no end. -- Is it possible that some people are not made for love?
Sometimes I wonder if I am the least bit loveable. If I had to love ‘me’, I won’t be able to. It’s not self-loathing; it’s merely a detestation of okay, it’s self-loathing.
I guess love is tied to trust. And commitment. And understanding. Conditions I fail to fulfil to myself.
I’m a very loyal person; it makes commitment all the more unbearable.
(committing means forever).
I can’t even commit to suicide, much less a person/relationship.
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RANDOM RAMBLES 4.0
Sunday, March 22, 2015 / 2:13 AM ♥
(Backdated post: March-April 2015, published 3 June 2015) RANDOM RAMBLES WEEK #4: The rampant nature of dis-ingenuity is jarring and unspeakably scary. Eternally questioning the complexity of human interpersonal relations; specifically the added layers of spiteful complications maliciously spawn in this web of connections, consequently darkening the quiet recesses of this labyrinth. Navigating; failing to. -- muse. The intensity of your eyes; the way fine lines creep the edges of those watery vessels when you smile.
Your smile, the delightful dance of joy in a blissful marriage between genuine happiness and cheeky flights of fancy.
Breaks into a laugh – reminiscent to the confident crashes of a waterfall, amongst shimmery mirages in radiant sunlight.
You laugh easily. You ease up when you laugh. The discovery that laughter is the gateway to your heart opened many gates that revealed other tightly-locked doors.
You are a repository of joy and sorrow; the complexity and textures of your soul fascinated fascinates me to no end. -- Is it possible that some people are not made for love?
Sometimes I wonder if I am the least bit loveable. If I had to love ‘me’, I won’t be able to. It’s not self-loathing; it’s merely a detestation of okay, it’s self-loathing.
I guess love is tied to trust. And commitment. And understanding. Conditions I fail to fulfil to myself.
I’m a very loyal person; it makes commitment all the more unbearable.
(committing means forever).
I can’t even commit to suicide, much less a person/relationship.
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