What's Heartbreaking Is, That Some Don't Even Understand The Love They Demand And Desire To Be Given

People will never look like flowers.

Death is all I want to test now. I have had a glimpse at everything possible. Death, can you find me please?

How I love the beer company ads of non drinkers. They fully mirror the kind of world we are in, how it fucks us up and then advertises itself as a better place to live in.

You shoudn't forget darling

the crucial reality

that you are,

loving people.

There needs alter,

there priorities,

there formulas,

there determinations.

Like weather,

they,at times

dont come as forecasted

and

that lamentably

bares on there love to you

and

impacts there anticipations

too.

Thank you @biblical-traditionalist-lady and everyone who got me to 100 reblogs!

Through the histories, it’s only Your mercy that the chief of this world fears.

So embrace me with it, Almighty, cover me up, for all around me, the things happening seem to tell me that I, for one, have no power to escape his grief, destruction, and trickery.

War has come. Where is my artillery? We have failed, drastically, to reach a truce with life. So now, let the war begin. I am not afraid.

This life, a gift from the Almighty GOD. But I wonder SOMETIMES if He had let us see first, see what’s here, what lingers in hearts, what other souls are capable of, would any of us have accepted this beloved gift of existence?

Personally, I don't think I would but I thank him now that am here, now that I know that with him this all chaos is bearable.

Birds flying out of there nests, the sun unwrapping itself for the day some geniuses are being born and some are breathing there last. In the same chaos the fearful are sneaking into the world as if they can do a thing or two in it. Others fearfully in defeat escape it, they have lived it all not as they wanted but as fear mapped it out for them.

Am an empty lot anything can fill yet, am so full of nothingness for something to fit in. Am in a state of despondency that nobody can revive my forlornness, am greatly agitated with myself, thus get scared for you my love when you say that you love me.

art by @kmcvisuals

Extremists live melancholy lives, they are always at the edges. Their hands suffocate, bruises, blood, scars. They are always pulling the rope to their end forgetting that the world stands on a balance. They fascinate themselves with things and that’s prison in itself.

Art by @kmcvisuals

Better leave me undescribed,

stare at me,

and like a flower,

pluck what you want

and leave me to bloom for others.

Isn’t this what the world has become?