I Was Already In The Process Of Writing A Love Story But I Stopped. I Do Not Have The Drive. Maybe I'll

So, here I am, sitting by the window, and I can't help but wonder—what's up with the weather today? It's one of those bizarre days where the sun is shining like it’s trying to convince us it’s summer in full swing, yet at the same time, it's raining. And not just a light drizzle. Nope, proper rain. But here’s the kicker: there are no rain clouds in sight.

It’s like the weather couldn’t decide what kind of mood it wanted to be in today, so it thought, “Why not both?” The sun is out in all its blazing glory, making everything glisten, and yet there’s rain falling from what appears to be a perfectly clear sky. Honestly, it’s kind of funny and confusing at the same time. I keep looking outside, expecting to see dark clouds rolling in, but nope. Just blue skies, light clouds, sunshine, and a very confused me.

It’s one of those surreal moments where nature decides to remind you that it doesn’t play by the rules. It's like the universe is saying, “Who says rain and sunshine can’t coexist?” If you look outside, it’s like a scene from a dream. The ground is wet, but the air is warm. Raindrops are hitting the window, yet there’s light pouring into the room. It’s like the sky is crying and laughing at the same time.

In a strange way, I kind of love this kind of weather. It’s unexpected, and there’s something magical about the contrast. Plus, who doesn’t like a good rainbow moment after the weird mix of rain and sunshine? It’s like the weather’s way of saying, “Okay, I might’ve been a little confusing, but here’s something beautiful to make up for it.”

At the end of the day, it just goes to show how unpredictable and wild nature can be. It’s one of those things where all you can do is sit back, laugh, and enjoy the strange beauty of it all.

Writing Prompt #210:

The war has been going on for over a 100 years now. Not that you’ve ever seen it, having been born in a bunker and remained here your entire life. You’ve heard the stories however, of the horrors and dangers out there.

Today, as your family is watching the news, one of the reporters snaps, “I can’t do this anymore. Everything is lie! They’re lying to you! Th-“ and the signal cut out."

In the dim light of the bunker, the flickering screen cast uneasy shadows on the walls. Your family sat in stunned silence, eyes wide as the news anchor's final, frantic words echoed in your ears.

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"Everything is a lie!"

The room seemed to close in as your mind raced. What could be true if the reports were fabrications? You’d always believed the stories of devastation and endless conflict were real, the stories your family told to keep you safe and to explain why you couldn’t ever go outside.

Your father’s face, usually so composed, was now a mask of worry. "It’s just a breakdown," he said quickly, though his voice betrayed his anxiety. "The reporters are under a lot of pressure. Don’t let this shake you."

But something had shifted. The old walls of your reality felt suddenly fragile, and the idea that the world outside might be different—maybe even safe—had begun to seep into your thoughts. Your mother, who had always warned against the dangers of the outside world, seemed unusually quiet, her eyes darting nervously.

"What if it’s true?" you asked, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

Your father glanced at the door as if fearing it might burst open at any moment. "Even if it is, we have to stay here. It's too dangerous outside."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken fears and the flickering uncertainty of the old news feed that had just cut out. The bunker, once a sanctuary, now felt more like a cage. As you sat there, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the world than the dark tales you had been told—a world you might never see if you stayed hidden in the shadows.

Some moments cut so deep they become woven into who we are. Choosing to close the door on someone who brought so much pain isn’t just a decision; it’s survival. In the quiet spaces of my heart, I still hear the echoes of betrayal, disappointment, and heartbreak. Whenever I think of letting him back in, a wave of loathing rises up, reminding me that stepping back into that pain would mean losing myself all over again.

Let’s be clear: there are people who take and take, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in their wake. He was one of those people. The way he twisted my trust into a weapon against me was nothing short of monstrous. I loathe him, not just for what he did, but for the way he made me feel—small, insignificant, and unworthy of love. He took my vulnerability and used it as a means to manipulate and control, and the sheer audacity of that betrayal is enough to make my blood boil.

The memories haunt me like phantoms in the night. I remember the promises made, the tender words whispered in the dark, and the way they all crumbled like ash in the face of reality. He was a storm that wrecked my peace, and now, the thought of inviting that chaos back into my life makes my stomach churn. I would rather drown in despair than suffer through another chapter of torment that he would bring.

It’s infuriating how someone can waltz in and out of your life, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart. I have spent countless nights wrestling with the demons of self-doubt and despair he unleashed upon me. I have fought against the notion that I am somehow responsible for the pain he inflicted. But now, with every ounce of strength within me, I declare that I will not let him back in. I refuse to be a victim of his charm once more, a puppet in his twisted game of manipulation.

The agony of betrayal runs deep, and the scars left behind are reminders of the strength I’ve found within myself. The choice to keep him out is not just about protection; it’s about self-respect. I would rather die than endure the suffering of reliving the torment he caused. The thought of opening that door, of offering him a second chance he does not deserve, fills me with a deep, aching dread.

So, I stand firm. I choose to honor my pain rather than let it fester into something more destructive. I refuse to let him back in, to allow his toxicity to seep into my life once more. Every moment spent apart is a testament to my resilience, a reminder that I have the power to reclaim my life from the wreckage he left behind.

To anyone who finds themselves at a similar crossroads: choose yourself. Choose peace over chaos. The road ahead may be paved with heartache, but it’s also a path toward healing and strength. Embrace the emotions that arise—let the anger and sadness wash over you, but don’t let them define you. You are not a product of someone else’s actions; you are a warrior who has fought and survived.

In the end, my decision is not just about him; it’s about my freedom. I will not suffer the consequences of his choices any longer. I will not allow the ghosts of my past to dictate my future. I close this chapter for good, sealing the door with a promise to myself: I am worthy of better.

I hope it went well. *fingers crossed*

Hip-hop has always thrived on beef, and 2024’s rap battle between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, fueled by Not Like Us, has been one of the most exciting in years. But as great as Kendrick’s diss is, it still doesn’t come close to dethroning Tupac Shakur’s Hit ‘Em Up as the greatest diss track of all time. What sets Hit ‘Em Up apart is its sheer venom—Tupac didn’t just take lyrical jabs; he launched a full-scale verbal assault. From the opening line—"First off, f** your b**** and the clique you claim"*—he made it clear this wasn’t just about music; it was deeply personal. Unlike Kendrick, who approaches his diss with surgical precision and slick double meanings, Tupac’s rage was unfiltered and raw, making every word hit harder. Beyond just lyrical skill, Hit ‘Em Up carried real-life stakes. The East Coast vs. West Coast feud was at its peak, and the track was a direct response to Tupac’s shooting at Quad Studios, an event he believed Biggie and Diddy were involved in. This wasn’t just about rap supremacy—it was about betrayal, survival, and revenge. While Not Like Us is a cultural moment, Hit ‘Em Up was a cultural earthquake. It didn’t just trend; it intensified an already deadly rivalry and remains one of the most infamous tracks in music history. The energy, the disrespect, and the direct name-dropping make it unmatched. Tupac didn’t sneak diss or hide behind subliminals—he outright humiliated his enemies, turning rap beef into all-out war. While Not Like Us is a masterclass in calculated disrespect, Hit ‘Em Up remains the blueprint for all diss tracks that followed. It wasn’t just a song; it was a weapon, and no diss track before or after has carried the same level of aggression, impact, and cultural weight. Until another rapper delivers something with more emotion, rawness, and stakes, Hit ‘Em Up will remain undefeated.

Depression is crazy because If you don’t actively combat it daily you’ll find yourself a week after having the best week of your life laying on the floor for two hours wondering why you can’t get up @le_debut

Daily affirmations

I am healthy, I am wealthy, I am rich, I am that bitch I am gonna go get that bag and I am not gonna take your shit I am protected, well respected, I'm a queen, I'm a dream I do what I wanna do and I'm who I wanna be 'Cause I am me

Thanks, Flo Milli!

Happy New Year! Gosh, it's been a long time!

I swear nothing has caused more problems for me in my life than my inability to say no or turn people down. Soft and empathetic nature costs you a lot

I have peaches in the fridge and I’m gonna eat them now. 🍑