She hates how it’s so fucking easy to fall in love, and yet a million times harder to fall out of it.
You never thought it would be possible for your feelings to escape you. Not in the sense that you can’t describe them at all; in fact, you have nothing to describe, nothing you can grasp — to hold on to. Whereas before there’s this ball of jumbled feelings weighing down in your core, now there’s nothing, and the thing that “scares” you is that it doesn’t seem as if you feel lighter — it’s as if you are disconnected, detached, from the world and yet at the same time you aren’t. You are not even sure if it’s a good thing or not, because you aren’t really just going through the motions and yet you aren’t resisting either.
I want a society where we can talk about anything, where we talk about everything. I want a society where there’s a constant buzz in the background, the mix of a thousand topics and languages, hauntingly beautiful in its rawness–not a hushed silence, nor the way too loud thought(s) and voice(s) of an individual or a few select people. I want a society that cares enough honestly to talk about something that can be painful or uncomfortable to voice aloud. I want a society which understands that everything is in a constant state of change that we have no control over, and clinging onto history, evidences–the past–unconsciously or not, while disregarding the existence of other impossible possibilities is futile, counterintuitive, and perhaps even dangerous, for a moment in Life may as well already have been a whole lifetime.
You didn’t realize that eating sweets or at least sugary stuff made you… sleepy. It’s not as if you’re full, but seriously, why the hell did they make you suddenly sleepy?
If you can’t recognize it for what it is without its wrappings, you can never truly appreciate it, much less say that you really know what it is. And yet, even if you stumble upon that moment where you can say that you’ve truly seen it, in the blink of an eye, it morphs away into something else — growing, shrinking, expanding, contracting; but never disappearing.