She speaks her mind whether there is, or there is not a need for it. It does not magnify her pain, or change the truth about her, or make true the lies that she manipulated you to believe. Nobody would ever understand the intricate web of complexities she has spun for herself. For this has never been about anyone else, it has always been just about her. So you may try to put her down with your laughter, but she cringes not from the pain of every word, or every strike, because she has long known how to survive through that. She’ll throw back every damn thing to anyone who challenges her, and her tears shall dignify her strength. This is her truth. And the truth she holds on to is the one she’ll never let go. Insanity you say. Is she the she-devil incarnate? Or the worst of your nightmares personified? She is just who she has always been. Crazy. Impulsive. Irrational. Unpredictable. Mad. Yes, mad. There had never been any need for anyone to point it out. The madness has always been a part of her, clawing away through the veils of her mind, basking in her dreams, feeding from her anger, and drawing strength from the passions of her heart. But does that make her any less than who she is? She cares less of what you think. She cares even less of what other people think or say about her. Because she knows who she is. And in her world, that is all that matters.
When she walks away, she walks away.. And you would never understand just how little you matter to her the moment you lost her love.
"...Nor ever were they kind enough to give the night her peace, Nor ever were they wise enough to their own souls release. And so they likewise pay their debts, the debtors and the stars: One for putting forth the night, the others for their scars."
u moved me.Friday, June 08, 2012
You're never really who you think you are
Salvation. Redemption. Absolution.
It's like trying to catch a rainbow that vanishes before your eyes just when you finally get to its end.
How do you attain it? How do you forgive yourself when there are moments, fragments of your life, when you realize that you're never really good enough for it? You run, you run. And the shadows still keep on chasing you. And every step eats away part of your soul until you're consumed by the darkness inside of you.
La tristesse durera toujours.
Man is the only creature that refuses to be what he is. -Albert Camus
u moved me.Tuesday, June 05, 2012
whispers
There is a pleasure sure in being mad
which none but madmen know
Don't wish. Don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart. -Wicked
