thechosenone

I collect memories of the strangest moments

 

--she can do better, someone that is more passionate, less needy, someone that's not just hanging around on a sunday afternoon--

 

don't say my name like that because it makes my eyes either focus on only one thing, or on nothing at all, flickering up and down and into some non-existing horizon

 

--passionate, all of us are just so passionate--

 

I just want to do more, that's all I want, more than what fits in this sad existence, and I don't want a reminder of what one is supposed to do now to gain that self-confidence but I think I need that reminder, is it throwing yourself out there, being a bit too much?

 

I'd much rather suppress

 

it's the most banal story in the world really: complete humiliation, absolutely zero closure, escaping beyond nation-borders, starting to focus on oneself, intense desires of revenge, or retribution, followed by shame, immediate shame, self-doubt, exhaustion - the mind gets tired, so so tired

 

I'd much rather be passionate

 

I guess I'm hanging in there, it's what I do when I sugar load, when I gently rub my eyelids in the seminars, when you ask if you're hitting the right spot, when I suddenly feel the rush of decisiveness, followed by total depletion, and as my body is boiling, dormant pressure coming alive, yeah, I'm definitely hanging in there