We shall overcome, the brutality of life
We shall die but not this night.
This night is us on a bed in a rose garden looking at the stars laughing at the odds that had thought we couldn't meet and love and laugh and last.
I once heard stories that God saves the cursed, but in this case, I’m sure I am the cursed. And all I need now is His hand to lift this curse of life, this darkness, this weight that I carry alone.
she got to realize time to time, that she was a granite. She was a person never seen anywhere on this planet at least not in the places she had been too.
very hard indeed.
He told them to trust more in
Heavenly possessions as earthly
Ones fade away, though it's hard.
They wanted me to become a man who fights for his respect. But I became a man who respects himself. And that’s how I became awkward— and I loved
that
kind of awkwardness.
I will not survive. I will live.
Some bloomed in the same loneliness
that mutilated others.
And I felt it— the weight that kept me in bed, a heavy stone on my back.
My mom had paid hefty fees for private school, but even that couldn’t make me smile— or, to say it right, help me understand myself.
Worse, my dad loved me, but even with what others yearned for, I was no happier than them.
So, in my bed, I realized— I had to find myself, to accept myself, to love myself first, before the other loves could truly reach me.
And maybe then, I could pursue the happiness I wanted. As hard as it might be, the stars had assured me— it was a hopeful gamble, maybe.
Some say hope is a good thing, others all heartedly warn us against it. Country men , isn’t that life? that what frees some enslaves others and completely dismantles them out of existence.
art by @kmcvisuals
The heart goes cold.
The heart grows old.
The repetition of moments be it trembling or joyous.
The heart loses it all in the end.
art by @kmcvisuals