Getting Out of the Matrix

this is the fight that most souls Love,

I strongly dislike the cliché of proclaiming ​'nobody's flawless, that's why we mess up.' I have ​an aversion to excuses, yet I've found myself ​resorting to them for a hasty way out. However, it ​never proved to be a secure refuge.

don’t fall for messed up Society.

In my journey of growing up, I grappled with grasping the art of expressing my emotions effectively. It's been a bit of a bumpy road, with a fair share of mistakes in both my platonic and romantic relationships. When frustration hits, I've unintentionally given off vibes that don't align with who I truly am. But you know, I'm on this constant self-assessment mission, figuring out what I don't like about myself and what I absolutely love.

I strongly dislike the cliché of proclaiming 'nobody's flawless, that's why we mess up.' I have an aversion to excuses, yet I've found myself resorting to them for a hasty way out. However, it never proved to be a secure refuge. don’t fall for messed up Society.

The start of the last pages

This, it seems, is not the tapestry I had envisaged; it defies the contours of my idealized illusions, a timeline woven with threads I had naively assumed I could guide with the reins of consciousness.

This is not the carefully choreographed performance I had crafted within the confines of my imagination. It is a symphony of moments, both exquisite and discordant, conducted by forces beyond the reach of my will.

With each passing vehicle, each fleeting moment, I am reminded that I am not the playwright but the admirer, an eager voyager through the realm of what is, not what I imagined it to be.

In this moment, I confront the stark realization that I am but a spectator, an audience to life's play.

Going out for drinks isn't my idea of fun. I crave the excitement of festivals, carnivals, drive-ins, road trips, stargazing, and camping. However, I gave it a try once, stepping out into the night with alcohol in my hands,

It turns out, it wasn't my scene. It left me feeling empty and disconnected, as if a part of me had died inside. with the bunch of strangers I forgot the taste of my reality for a moment.

I nearly forfeit my very essence.

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"Ah, verily, the sentiment of our generation, wherein it doth perceive a facade of coolness in the negligence of concern. Yet, such a notion is erroneous, for it is not in the neglect but in the fervent exertion that true coolness doth reside. Lo, the virtue of endeavor is cool. The tender heart that doth care, it too is cool. And in steadfast loyalty, an aspect of coolness doth reveal itself. I beseech thee, make an attempt, and thou shalt perceive the truth of these words."

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"Sensitivity often serves as a catalyst for creativity, and it is not uncommon for highly creative individuals to experience a deeper level of emotional pain. This is why many creative individuals seek solace from their pain through various forms of dysfunction; addictions.

And There is a complex interplay between creativity, sensitivity, and suffering."

that's when I figured out how I keep finding myself tangled in incessant thoughts and self-distractions that have brought out the darkest aspects of my being.

the worst side of me

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never lost never found

I need my reality

This feeling is unique; it brings forth a mixture of unease and contentment, fear and solace, weariness and satisfaction. It's akin to being within my comfort zone, yet it surpasses that familiarity. It feels like delving into a deeper layer of comfort, a place I'm unsure if others have encountered or if it can even be aptly described. The constant chatter within my mind has left me fatigued, as a single thought has the potential to unravel everything.

I've come to recognize that this is both a blessing and a curse. The flood of thoughts that consume me often lack coherence when spoken or translated into action. And do I yearn for normalcy? No.

I wish I lwas better.

I wouldn't want to be normal nor crazy

I have reached a profound realization that people's love and hate for me stem from how I have made them feel and the image they desire me to project. While I have been instrumental in saving many souls, I have overlooked the fact that my own soul also requires saving.

I enjoy the gratifying sensation of feeling wanted, acknowledged, and listened to, but an excess of it becomes overwhelming. While I appreciate being physically and visually noticed, excessive attention makes me feel uneasy. I desire a fleeting and occasional form of intimacy, seeking it precisely when the need arises.

I want to be with someone, but I hate the idea that being with them will eventually require them to let go of me.

and if I were them... I'd leave me too.

you're not crazy, you're Inlove

People often engage in debates, fervently advocating for their own definitions of Love, while I find myself questioning the necessity of a fixed definition. Love cannot be easily categorized as purely false or true; rather, it encompasses what is inherently right and good. Love transcends the traditional notions of sin and virtue, encompassing a vast spectrum of emotions, intertwining elements of both lies and truth, sacrifices, and faith. It is the harmonious amalgamation of these diverse aspects that bestows upon love its formidable power, capable of evoking intense and seemingly inexplicable feelings and actions when we forge profound connections with others.

not your fault, but it's on you

It's amusing how we can unknowingly pass up on an opportunity without having any certainty if it was actually meant for us in the beginning.

and It's amusing how we sometimes project our own errors onto others, blaming them for possessing the positive outcomes that we were unable to attain.

Celestial

They say if you want to conceal something, hide it in plain sight. Speak it as a jest, and it will be mistaken for satire.

How many hidden truths have eluded our notice, camouflaged in everyday advertisements? How many sinister plans have been unveiled under the guise of jest? How many souls truly comprehend the depths concealed behind each pair of eyes? And how many rejections have paved the way for the eventual embrace?

LADIES LADIES LADIES

Yesterday, I came across a post featuring a movie monologue that caught my attention. It reads: "Before the Internet, every girl was a lot more special." It got me thinking, at what point does a woman lose her value?

Just because modern women are no longer willing to put up with the toxic behavior of narcissistic men they are less than a person?

A woman's confidence and assertiveness should not be mistaken for being difficult or unspecial. It's crucial to understand and appreciate a woman's worth, and failing to do so is a curse that one must bear alone.

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The discomfort of life

where did it take me?

Beyond the realms of all I've known,

there lies a place your heart has flown,

where destiny and love entwine,

your heart will find its perfect place to grow.

My Heart belongs to nothing but love

but yours is yet for you to discover.

I have accepted your gift of pain as an exchange for the love I have presented to you.

I have preserved the damage you’ve caused longer than it should be. The absence of touch continues.

Your being is the darkness of the night...

a shadow I pray to never encounter again.

The future I dream of for us can wait

let me remember your heartbeat slowly

let me learn your body language slowly

let me hear your thoughts slowly

let me study your voice slowly

let me linger on your skin slowly

let me memorize your scent slowly

let me live in your worse nights slowly

let me experience your world slowly

because I- I am delighted just being in the moment with you

so please... let me read your pages slowly

my favorite poison

what if

the idea that "everything happens for a reason", follows that helping someone with their problem could potentially alter the course of their fate? for instance this alteration could then lead to a karmic bounce back to us that may not necessarily be positive.

then it's possible that we are all living each other's karma

I can't lose you forever

It's often said that when we lose something, we can look forward to something better taking its place. But what price must we pay to replace what's gone forever? What hidden costs come with the decision to move forward? How much are we willing to pay to fill the void left by something lost? Will what comes next bring similar strife, continuing the vicious cycle of loss and replacement?

is this fate or a pit of written history that repeats once in a while? freedom is an Illusion.

not your cup for later

A few days ago, I stumbled upon a post that had a movie dialogue. It goes,

"Why can't people see the good things in front of them?... "They think they have time for it later".

I've given my whole heart to people who have taken advantage of it. and somewhere along the way I lost myself. But it's a win for me, I have conquered the destructive emotions of self-sabotage and emerged stronger.

we must learn that healing requires us to endure discomfort. Our restlessness is a sign that we're destined for something more significant.

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If someone figured out how to be successful they won't tell you how

is that the secret of success?

is successful people don't want us to know the ways just so we can avoid the hard work?

can we only achieve success if we're determined to find it? does the value of it diminished when it is taught and given?

lies are hidden truth is in plain sight

these "previledges" isn't for eveyone

If we were fortunate enough to grow up in a setting where our voices were listened to and valued we may be able to think more critically. Perhaps we need more everyday reassurance, but not just from others, but also from ourselves. It is what most people are afraid of; discovering their identity and character. it breaks them apart knowing they have been mistaken about who they are.

Are you not easily distracted? You will be distracted in every situation. Our instinctive reaction is either to move quickly or not at all. That is all I have left to think about. My tolerance in any situation is determined by the people around me and the environment in which I find myself.

break the series of shame

I often find it puzzling how someone can behave immaturely in front of those with whom they are close such as their family or closest friends. I am aware that people often react to their feelings rather than the event itself. So maybe them being cruel may be the reason why they are not in the mood to talk or maybe for them excessive talking might be hindering the bonding. coldness? Perhaps they are too exhausted to act in that moment.

did you left me?

she looks like a stone that laid on a shore and can be picked up by everyone without realizing her worth. And when they no longer appreciate her shine. they threw her into the sea where they think she belongs. unaware that underneath the covered surface stone lies a rare piece of gold. covered with layers of years and days in the mud of sadness.