Recently i come to realize a rather new sensation that happens strangely at night time. Breathing becomes deep and heavy like there’s an imaginary paramedic pressing down my chest in desperate effort to resuscitate. But the body feels light, feet feels like floating in slow mo. There’s a moving feeling of warmth around the face area, eyes tend to squint, brows furrow. Possibly a reaction of discomfort, as if invisible gauze or cotton or tissue smothering the face preparing to wipe tears that’s supposed to be there but not. Something is building up, dammed inside. The doors are knocked at both sides. On the surface it appears idle and unassuming, not reflecting the frantic inconsolable mind. Hopelessly restless, but what more is there to do? it’s time to rest. Must be one of the worst feeling, to go to bed sad and sorrowful. Ayy shittake. Unresolved issue, unmet needs; to come to terms with.
sadness always intrigues me more, making me spend much time trying to comprehend & figure it out because i believe sadness tops happiness as a requirement for a good life. When sadness precedes happiness, exactly in that order- there lies the better plot twist of living. If it’s the other way around it sucks more because the ending is a negative. But the cyclic nature of life dictates that both of them will take turns until a definite stoppage time. So yeah.
“I savour hate as much as I craved love because I’m just a twisted guy” quoting Biffy Clyro.
sadness always intrigues me more, making me spend much time trying to comprehend & figure it out because i believe sadness tops happiness as a requirement for a good life. When sadness precedes happiness, exactly in that order- there lies the better plot twist of living. If it’s the other way around it sucks more because the ending is a negative. But the cyclic nature of life dictates that both of them will take turns until a definite stoppage time. So yeah.
“I savour hate as much as I craved love because I’m just a twisted guy” quoting Biffy Clyro.
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