i loathe the nightly routine of complex human emotions. the insecurity induced fear of never knowing what intimacy might feel like because my outer layers won’t invite any invidivual in, since sharp daggers are what a gaze of mine would spill
I loathe the nightly routine of crying myself to sleep when I read all the lovey-dovey descriptions of some couples won defeat over loneliness and feeling utterly incomplete.
I know you know what I mean. being the first to hide and the last to dream of idealistic connection in a world lost in translation.
I see you. behind the screen. misunderstood. not able to cross the line of wanting to be alone and never wanting to be alone again.
I get the hint. I wish I wouldn’t be so bothered about it. listen to the piece of advice saying “it happens when you least expect it”, **** their optimistic mindset, really
we live in a society, where connection might be easy but hard to develop as something more than a swipe to the next inviting beauty.
video may have killed the radio star but the digital absurdity of modern society suffocated the hopelessly romantic and gave him a good ******* amount of overdeveloped anxiety.