god bless nicole richie
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@teriyakibukake
god bless nicole richie
Being in love feels like a taking a drug for the very first time whenever you are with that person. A drug that makes you the happiest person on earth whenever they’re around. It makes you feel as if you were sitting around a fire on a chill winter night – a heat that is so simple and subtle yet incredibly intense – a fire that lightens the darkness of the night, making you unable to focus on anything else but the brightness of its embers.
And yet, falling in love is burrowing a seed deep within you that grows into a bug of doubt and dependence that eats you alive. Like an addict, the dependence makes you the loneliest person in the universe when that person is not around. Alone and lost in a maze of confusion, desperately looking for the next step – what that is, no one knows. It’s intangible, inconceivable, and amorphous, and that ambivalence kills you, slowly, softly, tenderly.
But, in the most fortunate event that your love is ever reciprocated. It becomes the most incredibly feeling in the Cosmos – a feeling of completeness that is the closest human experience can ever get to the finding the meaning of heaven. A feeling of security that reminds you every day that though life itself is a never-ending and ever-changing maze, you don’t have to walk it alone. And the thought of this destination-less path everyone walks suddenly melts away, because not matter what surprises life has up its sleeves, you have each other’s embers.
Though beware. For every angel has a demon, and for such an entity of extreme sentiments, the power of heartbreak is devastating. It sucks your soul clean until you are nothing but an empty shell of what you were. The scars never really heal. Your life is never the same. You become a ghosts – a victim of your own hunting. And though we like to think we learn to move on and eventually heal, we simply just learn to wear mask of the person we once were.
- F.D. Ouija
RUTH ASAWA
(JAPÓN 1926 – SAN FRANCISCO 2013)
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