Something That Kills Artists:

To love is to expect,

What is love, if it doesn't make the worn out winter willow , pray for summer?

🍁It would be hard for me~

It would be hard for me act indifferent while I'm suspicious and sometimes right, all those pair of eyes in this open world are swallowing me whole while I do nothing but walk alone, beside the stand. It would be hard to breathe while I'm having that ache inside my chest out of anxiety when I listen about others and imagine, how horrible the judgment might be while talking behind someones back.

It would be hard to wake up early in the morning while only 24hrs seem like a huge unknown ocean of "what ifs" and "would happen". It would be hard for me to be lonely with this "bitter" version of myself. It would be hard, nearly impossible for me for not to care what others opine, for I used to grow up amidst compliments and I've learned "how people see us define ourselves ". It would be hard to walk with blacked out visions and endless palpitition almost through my ribs.

It would be hard to see myself being hard on this submissive entity, recklessly pushing herself off the cliff while maintaining that obsessive urge to be "perfect". I choose to be ordinary, I fear I might be inherently "weird" and I'll, along with all the people will judge myself for that.🍁

And suddenly, the splashes of rain smelled like a strange sensation of being everything alright, which I barely trust. The muddy petrichor gave me a deja vu of a life I've lost somewhere here. Perhaps the showerdrops will taste sweet, like childhood, or it may hurt as healing.

| PC Credit : Pintetest |

💮 It's okay to feel unsatisfied with what you love. We necessarily and unnecessarily grow. When it doesn't feel the best of you, you know you're turning better and better.💮

Why are they fighting?

Why are they fighting? Don’t they know there’s no tomorrow? It’s agonizing how we’re wasting our last breath Showing no glimpse of waking up before we will forever rest.

Why are they hating? Don’t they know love’s dead already? You ripped our hearts apart and threw the corpses away Pieces of us are now floating, we’ve been destroyed.

They prayed for peace once upon a time Today they’re holding the guns Pointing at all the past mistakes When only the present can save us.

I wonder when enough will be enough To understand all that we already know To open our eyes and see what we’ve thrown away And how we’ve turned the earth into a war zone.

It’s over now, the world is empty No residual signs left to repress The sky has fallen, we’re no one now Look what you did to us!

~ A. A. Roman

💮 Basically there are always opportunities, if "others" are not there.

• Picture Credit: Pinterest

But oh!... if it's you, I would never mind losing myself into your hands eternally or for a thousand times, and putting my heart away in every pieces and pieces and present them in front of you to play with.

Create a captivating paradox of perfectly put imperfections of you,

while narrating yourself. 😊

☆~Does the universe create a Supernova, when somewhere lightyears away in a planet, its child fall apart and the sadness inside her, break and collide with each other? When the memories burst her heart inside and out, do the stars collide with each other there too,creating a black hole, resembling the void inside her? Or has it been eternally resilent? For I've felt the stardusts in my lungs everytime I cry.☆~

Real

Yes.