Maybe im meant to be alone.
To simply observe love
from a distance,
So i dont taint the idea of it.
Maybe, i was made to
Love the idea of Love
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@javiisol
Maybe im meant to be alone.
To simply observe love
from a distance,
So i dont taint the idea of it.
Maybe, i was made to
Love the idea of Love
18th of Mach, 2020
As of today, I have one year left to live. Four seasons. I will keep working hard to get myself together and to recover. I will do my best every day and I will not give up. Because I know how much time is left. If, after a year, I see that nothing has changed and the maximum effort is still not enough, then I will end the further suffering. To live in constant pain is a constant waiting and yearning for the end to come, but also a constant hope that discourages suicide. So, dear hope, I'll give you one more year. I wanted to "officially" write it down somewhere as a confirmation of the weight of my decision.
I have mastered the art of making myself small; the years have taught me how to fold myself step by step, edge to edge into pinwheels and paper lilies mindlessly left in infinitesimal space — an instinct — a secret slipping into the unconscious, left beneath the mattress, left behind the doors.
The years — they’ve taught me how to take my heart out — take it apart and fold it into a thousand paper cranes —
all cooped up in my ribs.
Their wings, decaying with all the wishes I never allowed myself to make.
Their beaks, pecking on the flowers, on the wheels, on my skin: an obsession, a compulsion, a ritual for symmetry,
a constant flipping, a ceaseless folding,
until I am small enough — insignificant enough to attract no attention, to remain unseen, unheard, unnoticed in the room.
And here, in this infinitesimal space I have mastered the art of making myself small.
— Fria
I’ve come to a realization,
I am not “happy”
BUT
I am not “sad” either!
You’re too blind to see and i’m too tired to tell.
everything comes at once. Sometimes we thing we cant escape from reality. those feelings are just in our heads doing they’re thing to slowly turn us dark