To Love One Another 'Til Death

Dance

Love, the great illness of the soul, strikes again! —

Whence the unbearable aching of wings, poised to spread and at last take flight among the shifting colors of the heavens; whither the anguish of the bright, unconcealed Sun, of the burning of flesh and the melting of wax …

For shame,

that one may think to have it conquered!

Even the sturdiest mires of love

conclude

in the misery of death.

There is one solution …

Attack first!

Love — or, How It Feels to Smoke a Miku Cigarette

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

I will die.

I will die, and none of my dreams will come true.

They will mold and rot and decay, until they become little more than nutrients for the soil.

Everything will vanish.

Often as I lay in bed and try to quiet my mind to sleep, I get lost in tale of fame, fortune, fantasy, happiness —

They are ultimately very sad thoughts.

But that's okay.

In the back of my head, I always understood that they would never happen anyways.

My list of dreams grew ever larger, while my list of accomplishments remained empty.

My eye bags grew, as did my bald spots and back pains.

Time seemed to be pressing harder on the gas.

I could gauge the speed by counting my mother's wrinkles, or by the shortness of her tone.

I could keep track of the miles by how much of my father I could still remember.

It all seemed like an uphill battle —

A failed hypothesis, or maybe an accounting error.

And that's okay.

I supposed I just wasn't meant to be.

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ANNABELLE CANNIBAL

1727693504

lovely

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thank you :]

by alek; 1727722345; Report