Posted in Thoughts

Amare

I like to think that love is just a means of evasion

An alibi for stupid mistakes and regrettable decisions

An excuse to settle with questionable life-partner and be with the wrong person

A pretext for the heartbreaks and martyrdom

 

I like to think that love is just an art of deception

That it can be bought with the right combination of resources, carefully chosen gifts, and tastefully arranged facade

That it’s a paraphernalia to manipulate others until they willingly do our bidding

That it’s just a play pretend to escape loneliness and make life less dull

 

I like to think that love is just a pretty word

A romanticization of sexual attractions and carnal desire

A beautiful guise for abuse and mistreatment

An alluring cover story for binding responsibilities and burdensome commitments

 

I’m a liner away from truly believing that love is just a lie

 

But then I met you

 

 

 

 

À la mort, 

I kind of miss the feelings and the drama, though, and wouldn’t mind being deluded into believing that love does exist. 

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Author:

An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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