Love and Loathe are interchangeable to Rory, watching people confuse the two for years and brought her to that conclusion.
Yet for someone who's so sure that they're the same thing..
Why does she suddenly feel so confused?
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❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
A Dummy's guide to being a good person, a book that could be valuable to the whole world, especially to me.
I'm not a horrid person by any means, I'm not an evil overlord and I don't run a human trafficking ring, yet I still have this feeling that I'm a bad person.
I'm sure the people I l̶o̶a̶t̶h̶e̶ lovecould agree.
Love is a strong word, loathe is as well, and for some reason, they seem easily interchangeable. We treat those we love as if we loathe them at times, no matter what they've done to deserve it.
It doesn't just apply to people, society tends to say they love the ocean, they go to the beach on vacation, they take pictures of it, get on boats to be in it...
Yet they dump their trash in it as if it's a giant green bin surrounded by buzzing pests.
They preach, "Things need to change! We need to take care of our planet which we love!" but no one actually follows their own advice.
We all know we're dying, we all know that we're self-destructive and that we take down everything surrounding us. Including the things we l̶o̶v̶e̶ loathe.
I l̶o̶a̶t̶h̶e̶ lovethe ocean.
The way the waves cascade onto the yellow sand, then pull away, revealing any shells that may have been covered.. the scent of salt water, the feeling of it cooling me off as it splashes against my bare legs.
The cerulean waves crash around me as the cold sensation climbs up my body, the fabric of my stockings becoming soaked and weighed down as the wind blows my long black hair back.
Every step forward I take drags me a bit deeper, the steps become just that much harder to take as my feet sink into the soggy sand beneath the water.
A storms coming, that's all they've talked about for days, to pack up any outdoor decorations and take shelter, and for those who live by the shore to seek refuge further inland.
Yet here I am, in the water.
Eventually, my hair became too difficult to be blown by the wind, being weighed down by the water as it floats around me.
And as I begin to let out my air supply and lie on the bottom, I recall one more thing I love about the ocean.
