I try to make something beautiful of my pain, but sometimes I just have to sit with it. Sometimes all you can do is sit with it.
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@jnkizzy
I try to make something beautiful of my pain, but sometimes I just have to sit with it. Sometimes all you can do is sit with it.
There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is. It is the sadness of understanding that life is not a grand adventure, but a series of small, insignificant moments, that love is not a fairy tale, but a fragile, fleeting emotion, that happiness is not a permanent state, but a rare, fleeting glimpse of something we can never hold onto. And in that understanding, there is a profound loneliness, a sense of being cut off from the world, from other people, from oneself.
Virginia Woolf
disillusioned
-
it’s incredibly sad when
you hear someone tell their story of
how they gave up on love.
But much like the story of giving up on love,
there is also a story of
how someone can give up on kindness.
There have been many accounts of
what a cold world it can be
and how bitterness can find you more
and more over time.
And through all these life experiences,
love becomes a myth.
We know this well.
We hear this.
Likewise,
in our pursuit of success and fulfillment,
kindness can become less and less advantageous
almost as if,
it’s just fluff that we tell children
so they can enjoy being a kid.
We tell them to be kind to others.
We tell them not to lie.
But as we get older,
it doesn’t seem to get us anywhere.
But you’re someone who hangs onto it,
you just don’t want to give it up.
So as you forge forward on your kind ship,
being sweet, thoughtful, and considerate,
I need you to know that,
it does pay off.
somehow,
in some way,
it will.
.•.peako green•.•
“I like how sleeping next to someone means more than sex sometimes, the body’s way of saying ‘I trust you to be by my side at my most vulnerable time,’ you have no defenses when you are asleep, you tell no lies”
— Eric Shaw
Margaret Atwood, “The Blind Assassin.”