The Diary Of A Broken Heart

Reality behind this sobriety

"We're all a little bit more drunk tonight, no?" "We're always high, just that sobriety overcomes this highness at times."

We are people, who have subjected ourselves to be sober. We have allowed the world to transform us, to change us into something that we are not and can never be. We have forgotten to live. All we are is a bunch of people who are glued to gadgets. We are obsessed with taking selfies, because we have to fake a life. You do know that the likes on your selfie describe your worth and not your talents or achievements.

We have ceased to love. No wait, we've forgotten what love ever meant. All we know about love is that it involves kissing and caressing and lusting and making out. We don't realise that love is not just that. It's more. Much, much more. It's about listening, understanding, patience, tolerance and affection, of course.

We have forgotten what beauty is and the angelic things it is found in. All we know is that blemishes make you look like ugly, braces are cartoonish, and glasses nerdy. Your body should be like a model, heavy chest and big butts with a flat stomach doesn't matter if you eat like a dog or starve yourself to death. We don't realise that we're stars, and we must give no scars to our beautiful because after all, broken is it's own kind of beautiful, no?

We have forgotten to romanticise. There's no sugar or spice in our life and despite this, we always try to pretend that everything is nice,even though it's not. Because we can't complain, and things that hurt us don't matter in this heartless society you know. In this world, friend breakups are normal, being cheated upon is normal, being mocked is normal but being appreciated, having long lasting friendships and being loyal is rare.

We live here. On earth. So beautiful. Full of places and people to explore. Full of beauty and angelic things. Full of splendid joys and irritatingly happy things. We have so much to do. So many mysteries to solve. And here, we lie on our couches scrolling miles we ought to walk.