It always seem to be at night when this feeling takes control of the body. The entire day light hours are spent brooding, fixated on this one lonely idea that consumes everything else. This concept could be tiny, insignificant in the entire span of your life, but in that very moment it is everything. However, the daylight clears your thoughts enough to allow reason
to pursue this idea. It is this reason that keeps you from texting that one person who haunts your every thought, keeps you from tearing apart every bridge you’ve made with this person. Night chases away the reason.
Desperation is beautiful.
When one feels so compelled to speak up, to spill their hearts content despite their reservations, despite their better judgment, there is something beautiful in the act. Honestly and desperation hold hands, and speak in a way that captivates all those restless hours, all those useless nights into one single message. It is this message that contains all those dried tears, all those invisible scars, this message represents the shattering of all rational sense. Whatever the reasoning, this message has sprout past all reason, all hope of a relationship. This message contains your heart, you’ve unwillingly offered your entire heart to someone, not trusting that they won’t crush it. This offering is beautiful, pure.
Desperation is pain.
Of course, the view on such an act is one of horror. One is supposed to remain closed off, barred from the world and their own vivd emotions, no matter the cost. Resorting to other methods of coping, many look past opening themselves in fear of rejection. Once the wall is broken and the last brick crumbles, honesty floods through. In a world of instant responses also comes instant suffering. People reject honesty, frown upon neediness. They deny they themselves had ever been is a position such as this and shun even the idea of this person. This being that only needs the warmth of another to survive.
Desperation is strength.
Fight through the feeling of despair and what emerges from the rubble is magnificent. Silence has been rewarded with a new perspective, a stronger you. You are the same, only modified by hurt. You are beautiful, despite your darkest moments because you survived. Keep surviving.
Desperation is beautiful.
When one feels so compelled to speak up, to spill their hearts content despite their reservations, despite their better judgment, there is something beautiful in the act. Honestly and desperation hold hands, and speak in a way that captivates all those restless hours, all those useless nights into one single message. It is this message that contains all those dried tears, all those invisible scars, this message represents the shattering of all rational sense. Whatever the reasoning, this message has sprout past all reason, all hope of a relationship. This message contains your heart, you’ve unwillingly offered your entire heart to someone, not trusting that they won’t crush it. This offering is beautiful, pure.
Desperation is pain.
Of course, the view on such an act is one of horror. One is supposed to remain closed off, barred from the world and their own vivd emotions, no matter the cost. Resorting to other methods of coping, many look past opening themselves in fear of rejection. Once the wall is broken and the last brick crumbles, honesty floods through. In a world of instant responses also comes instant suffering. People reject honesty, frown upon neediness. They deny they themselves had ever been is a position such as this and shun even the idea of this person. This being that only needs the warmth of another to survive.
Desperation is strength.
Fight through the feeling of despair and what emerges from the rubble is magnificent. Silence has been rewarded with a new perspective, a stronger you. You are the same, only modified by hurt. You are beautiful, despite your darkest moments because you survived. Keep surviving.