Red Shambhala
Death to America
★★
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2017
- Posts
- 2,566
Hate and fear is all that's left.
Sometimes the hate in me is so intense that I feel like burning from the inside, or like boiling, like my blood is literally boiling and my head is turning red and my eyes popping out, I have these violent fantasies. Then, at other times, I am so fucking afraid. I am SO, so, so afraid. I have so much fear of the future, fear about this, fear about that, that it's hard to breathe and I feel like my hair is graying from fear and my eyes are getting darker, and I have the most terrible headaches.
The hours and the days, the weeks and months just melt away and blend into one, while the two emotions I feel most of the time are repeatedly hate and fear, fear and hate, hate and fear. Rinse and repeat.
I want to feel love. I remember how it was to feel love, to be in love. Of course, the love wasn't reciprocated, but still. It was so intense, both beautiful and painful at the same time. Like a tender depression. Now it's only hate and fear. Sometimes I see these beautiful girls and I just look at them with a melancholic smile, admiring them like a beautiful painting or something. How they laugh, and these dresses, when they smile with their lips. I want a girl to playfully give me a nudge, throw her arms around my neck, and laugh, not quite sure if I'm serious or if I'm making fun.
Sometimes the hate in me is so intense that I feel like burning from the inside, or like boiling, like my blood is literally boiling and my head is turning red and my eyes popping out, I have these violent fantasies. Then, at other times, I am so fucking afraid. I am SO, so, so afraid. I have so much fear of the future, fear about this, fear about that, that it's hard to breathe and I feel like my hair is graying from fear and my eyes are getting darker, and I have the most terrible headaches.
The hours and the days, the weeks and months just melt away and blend into one, while the two emotions I feel most of the time are repeatedly hate and fear, fear and hate, hate and fear. Rinse and repeat.
I want to feel love. I remember how it was to feel love, to be in love. Of course, the love wasn't reciprocated, but still. It was so intense, both beautiful and painful at the same time. Like a tender depression. Now it's only hate and fear. Sometimes I see these beautiful girls and I just look at them with a melancholic smile, admiring them like a beautiful painting or something. How they laugh, and these dresses, when they smile with their lips. I want a girl to playfully give me a nudge, throw her arms around my neck, and laugh, not quite sure if I'm serious or if I'm making fun.