reactable

About Me;

Journal;



Ask me anything

It is an odd thing to me that the memories that play over and over again in my head aren’t those of us in the shower, or those us dancing, skin-tight.

All I ever see is you smiling, laughing, jumping, singing, dancing. Always joyous.

Today I opened my window and I immediately caught a trace your scent. I looked up, and there was the sunset, greeting me, making sure I didn’t forget you.

It scares the shit out of me that I love you this much, and the possibility of this not being love but some sort of obsession makes me quiver with fear.

Do I really love you, or am I just a clingly virgin? Such a cliché…
The funny thing is, you didn’t even take my virginity, you took something with real value… My innocence. 

Maybe that’s why I like so much being close to you, because that’s the only way I can make mine all the parts of me you took. At least for a little while.

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"Cuando estés triste, recuerda que para mí en tu voz vibran las rosas rosadas, el atardecer, y las noches estrelladas. Eso es suficiente para hacerme feliz."

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dismorfia

dismorfia

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mil soles;

No recuerdo nada antes del frío glacial, y lo que vino después ha sido tan frenético que se me hace difícil discernir qué ha sido real y qué ha sido un mecanismo de defensa de mi estropeada mente. Es duro sentir después de haber vivido tanto tiempo congelado; todo se torna endemoniadamente bello, y al mismo tiempo divinamente peligroso.


Los atardeceres ya no son una circunstancia ineludible de habitar en este planeta, sino vida, muerte, y resurrección en un performance único de treinta minutos. Las lágrimas, que se rehusaban a brotar por miedo a congelarse, ahora acarician mi rostro con frecuencia y se funden con la infinidad del océano para desaparecer. La felicidad y la tristeza, que se filtraban como un murmullo ahogado entre las capas de mi prisión helada, ahora se alternan en un agitado baile que no tiene coreografía definida… Pero aún más excitante y aterrador fue lo que descubrí en el momento en el que se derritió mi fortaleza escarchada: el amor.


El amor, esa fuerza que siempre me había sido ajena, ahora se siente como mil soles en mi pecho. Mil soles que dieron paso al miedo. Mil soles que evaporan toda el agua de este océano, aparentemente infinito, que mis lágrimas se encargan de volver a llenar. Mil soles que incineran mi carne humana, y queman a todo al que se acerca. Mil soles que engendran vida para luego destruirla. Mil soles que no puedo controlar.


A veces me gustaría volver al frío entumecedor y librarme de estos sentimientos que me atacan todos al mismo tiempo sin tregua alguna, pero estos mil soles no dejan de brillar, y mil soles ardientes son mejores que la gélida oscuridad, ¿Verdad?

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I can’t fucking believe myself.

A few days ago I was ranting about how I was going to respect myself by not going further with you, but shit! I got closer, and now there’s no going back.

I can’t fucking believe myself.
I can’t fucking believe myself.
I can’t fucking believe myself.

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I hate foxes, roses, and stars.

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Scarlet;
In the flesh;
Stripes;
Under the pink

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Ultimately I’ve come to the conclusion that I am a narcissist for thinking I play a crucial part in people’s lives, and at the same time, I am a stupid son of a bitch for thinking I am but a nuissance for others. It is a hard thing to master the art of contradiction, but I’ve done it justice.

You once told me you were through sacrificing things for others, you said you would only settle with perfection; you wanted, and you still do, all or nothing.

At the moment that stance seemed radical to me, but now, after I’ve lived a bit more, I can agree with you.

I will not settle with something broken, I don’t care if it is to last for one night only. I, too, deserve perfection, and this, what we have, it’s perfect for me.

Even if we were to spend just one night together, I want it to be perfect. I don’t want to be your toy, I don’t want to be the easy one you run to when you’re drunk and sad. It’s not about you, and it’s not about us.

It is about me.

It is about taking what I deserve, not what I can get, and I do not deserve “broken”. I learned that from you, that night you decided I wasn’t good enough. I still love you big time, but I love myself better, or at least I am trying to pretend I do.

I know love is complex. but I don’t want to be partially loved. I want it all or nothing. Thanks for making me realize that.

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greuze:

François Martin-Kavel, Jeune Femme En Deshabille (Detail), 19th Century

greuze:

François Martin-Kavel, Jeune Femme En Deshabille (Detail), 19th Century

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