Young things have a mind all their own.. They really really do.
I always love when movies start. I really really do… It gives off a great sense of adventure and promise… Movies to me are like people, I am wired to believe that they never end, similarly I assume that people are going to fade away in a form that does not involve pain and suffering …. The movie business, boy do I have a load of thoughts on that topic… I just hate how the movie business only wants the bodies and talents of individuals… It wants the bodies of beautiful women to further our depraved imaginations into thinking that when they engage in lasciviousness, it is for our pleasure… I find this vicarious thrill sickening in my imperfect yet renewed heart which has submitted itself to the Lord… I think old people choose young people to marry bcos they want the illusion of being young in some warped, twisted way. I don’t like it when that happens, it’s sick and revolting even though people pretend that it’s all normal and okay.. But then again so many things are far from being okay.
I think that people pay professional shrinks just to hear them talk without interrupting… People get so used to hearing the same things that they stop listening.
Why do people pretend like they have it all together? Isn’t life going to snatch everything away? Job, parents, kids.. Wife…!! And yet they pretend like they know what’s about to happen next?
It’s all about money in this town.. Survival… Money.. Rent.. Bills… These are the true realities.. True love.. Soulmates – These don’t exist … They really don’t. God exists though and boy am I glad that I never get tired of Him!!
Why do people grow up and become so cold and lonely? Why do women control so much of our interactions? I hate how much I re-read conversations with women in different voices and emotions trying to decipher some hidden clue of inference that will supposedly be an “eternal treasure and joy”
Why does it hurt to be vulnerable? How can I switch off this feeling of being absolutely vulnerable at all times? The older I get the more I see things differently.. Why do people desire each other..? We all get tired of each other anyway.. don’t we? What does last in this life then?
I hate how all that people see are faces.. What about my heart? My soul? Is your vision only limited to my vision? I guess that the Lord is going to talk to me when He truly wishes to.. Or when He really wants to… I don’t mind His approach.. I just want Him to talk to His favorite kid, on this side of the ocean..! Why can’t I save all the sick, dying and broken people in this world Lord? All the homeless animals? All the poor people losing their minds..? Why can’t I stop war? Crimes? Poverty? Prostitution, human negligence? Trafficking ? murder ? merciless killings?
I hate how forgiveness turns back the blame on myself and checks my conscience and wonders in invisibility about the relative state of all things and about our own inability to be absolutely clean and pure , People say the meanest things when they are angry… they really do…!
I can’t understand how comfortable people are in who they are… don’t they have fears? Insecurities? Timidity? Shyness? I’m seriously beginning to wonder how people can feel so confident when at anytime anything can happen!! I hate what death does to a person… I hate how it tears open a person’s soul with grief.. And brings the great treacherous injustice of the world into our hearts as we struggle against its vicious and vile might..!
My mom doesn’t understand a thing about WiFi or the internet or what an Android app means… and sometimes I laugh at her like it all means a lot, I hate it when I laugh at my mother… I don’t deserve such a lazy and careless act.. She sweat blood, sweat and tears for me… She clothed me… Placed my life before her… what selfishness has my heart to laugh when my mom hides what her generation has trouble comprehending? How cruel can I be?
I feel sorry for people a lot… I really do, I just cry for them… I hurt for them… I pray for them… the good Lord made my heart to be open and not closed to the world and it’s sufferings. I struggle in weakness against the might of my high sensitivity… But the Lord has crafted me to bring Glory to Himself. I write stories about girls with whom I had chances with, or spent my life around with but never personally clicked… but they later found someone else.. And I roar and heave with all my anguish and mature sadness even as my pen weaves grand feel good dramas when my heart was broken so many times by decade old infatuations…!
I studied in this college where I felt invisible, where I was invisible… Nobody talked to me, it didn’t matter to them if I would’ve died right before their very eyes they still would’ve been so enamored of their great significance and privileges… No girl ever opened her heart to me when u was there… I longed so deeply and lovingly towards my muses who were happily oblivious of my affections… I was always forgotten… sometimes when I laugh at my ma and tease her I remember the pain of being made to feel all of that, and I grow angry at myself and start cursing myself. I still remember how much I hated myself… I can’t be like those flaky, pretensive scoundrels to my ma… She means the world to me.