Dear the stupid, cruel, beautiful World,
I was just wondering. Has anyone ever felt anything? Have I ever felt anything? Is world just a fucked up place filled with lies and promises that are too easily broken?
Have you ever felt...
a failing friendship where no one will try to save it?
a feeling so light you can't call it love, but deep enough to know it's more than a crush?
rejection so bitter you can feel it slowly creep across your tongue and make its way to your face?
an emotion so resentful you can barely hold yourself back, out of pure hate?
sadness to a level you never knew?
happiness but in a dullest sense?
longing, but you're so far away yet so close at the same time?
a hurt so deep it leaves an eternal scar, bleeding out for the world to see?
a wish, screamed out so loud yet no one can hear a thing?
revolting, so deep, but filled with something new and unknown?
an empty gap in your heart?
emptiness, so hollow, only a miracle can fill?
Have you ever felt yourself wishing for the world to be a better place?
Maybe a world without violence, hurt, anger, politics, gravity, air, the world.
A world without a world. When we float. Like heaven, except it's not heaven, no.
Heaven for a blissful moment, the longing to float before your lungs scream for oxygen, gasping for air. Before their bodies float around you and you're the last one.
All alone.
By yourself.
But you can't die, even then. You won't.
And then that dream will end, and you'll come back to this cruel world. This cruel, ugly world that makes us feel.
Longing, devastation, hurt, loss, anger, sadness, joy, depression, jealousy, love, hate.
Good and evil. Blue and red. Yin and yang.
They all fit together, like two jagged jigsaw pieces, longing for each other. Hating each other. Yet still aching for one another.
Like our world. Black and White. Not transparent yet seems to be. Don't forget it.
YOU ARE READING
What She Really Meant to Say.
No FicciónA collection of Her thoughts, diaries, actions. All the things she thought but she couldn't say. Her head is covered in a fog of something so dull, she can't feel anything but numb. Who knows who Her is. It could be you. It could be me. It could b...
