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Pheobe Myers Pheobe Myers
Recommendations: 9

happiness call


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This human experience that we all live in is a pretentious illusion of happiness.
We love those who will never love us back in the hope that eventually we will be good enough for them even though we never will. We build our walls and our dreams and all our sick schemes of happiness.  We curse ourselves into depression because the world we created around us is wilting like a flower without water. We try to defend our feelings for someone simply because we feel we  have the right to feel that way. but as days grow long and the nights grow longer we find ourselves abandoning our silly Illusions. And taking hold of the truer reality that comes creeping into our minds along with our demons. We are all alone. We live only in our minds alone. We die alone. Dont be fooled into thinking and believing in relationships and community. Its all a narcissistic lie. We want to be loved and felt and believed in. But some of us can never even glance at that idea because our eyes are nailed to our souls. We cant look at the world the same way as others. We see ourselves in everything we do. We see our mistakes. Our fuck ups. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our unfathomable imagination blooming and wilting with every brush stroke life paints on our canvas.yes we are selfish. But when the only person you have is yourself wouldn't you be to? we are wounded cynical birds. We dont trust because all trust Is broken along with our wings. We die inside because we do want the best for others yet we sit here with heat in our lungs, hurt in our eyes, and our throaht filled with goodbyes. Tou sit here watching her as i do you. You love her. And she doesnt love you. But darling you are are doing it to. We build our masks to put on a show.  We are the protagonist and you our director. We will act for you with the best of our ability but when you ask all acts are gone. But yet you still see the character we play. Happiness is a cruel lie. We strive for it as if its obtainable. Sure for  split moments we can catch a glimpse but its gone in a second like lightning. Its beautiful and brilliant and never strikes twice. We are the loners. The gamers. The stoners. The dreamers. The actors who never break character. And the lovers who are never loved. We are the madness that comes creeping in. Its all a dream. The reality is in our minds. Lost in our lives. Lost in our demons. And lost in our haphazard ideas of love. Like good little soldiers of this stupid american dream. We will put on our uniform and salute our worldly ways. but for those who divert from normalcy... we will plant flowers in our hearts and galaxies in our eyes. Our hope is sure to be our demise. So we prepare for battle. To get blood on our knuckes. We live in two realities. Yet we lost the keys to escape. So we will fight on in strife. Every lost love is another knife. One by one we will fall the soldiers of the happiness call.


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