It’s extremely hard to pour my heart out and confide in someone,so I burden the electronic non-smelly ( ironically public) pages of my blog with words and run-on sentences . Here is where I lick my wounds,and where my fantasies lie and die one after another.Here is where I destroy and reconstruct the brain of an ink blooded woman who is often very lost,hopeless and melancholic ,yet incredibly strong ,crazy,semi-nymphomaniac , and extremely competitive against her own demons and shadows.
I have to admit : lots of these words taste like tears : salty and bitter and proud generous tears.
One of my favourite quotes is by Margaret Mitchell : ” Burdens are for shoulders strong enough to carry them ” . I became Atlas,I’ve carried burdens as heavy and as bloody infinite as the universe; but my shoulders are growing tired,and my attempts to lift the burdens higher only turned into a nasty relapse.there is this deep seeded feeling of pain,anguish,endurance and an infinite void that I failed to hide every time I tried to look my creator in the eye…
I don’t know how to write or what to write anymore,but I loved him because he defied me.He was the shoulders that took the weight off mine and celebrated ever scar,every scratch and every wound on my mortal skin.He was simply a beautiful ambedo.
There was a big miscalculation.I never did calculus despite my great admiration for Newton,and I really hate numbers ,maths ,and logics.however, I never knew I’d be reduced into fractions that equal DIVISION ,thus the result of our “situation ship” is irrational…yes ,irrational.Common sense,rationality and logic were nonexistent in his world and I loved it and lived it; but we were never together : divided and helpless.
He and I are parallel lines,with the same force,same intensity that goes on and on and on ..am blithering.again.gibbersih.
He was an act of desired violation of my body and soul,and I did not mind it..at all.