How she talks, how her hair moves , how her eye stare looks, her smile and such shit
SuicideFuel Post the song that reminds you most of your oneitis
I don't have a oneitis. Having a oneitis is pathetic.
Nice song dude. I'll dig this artist. It reminds me the voice of the singer of the Midnight.
That's the music that makes me think of her :
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die."
This song right here
When she talks, I listen, She's in the shower and her skin glistens
D
Song is soooo fitting,it's over plus a gigchad singing it.
Aside from a few transient infatuations borne of misread attraction, I haven't had an arresting, monopolizing oneitis since early high school.
If I did, it might sound something along the lines of:
I kind of thought that we were meant
to be
I really thought that you were the one
for me
HEEEEEEEEEELL
I'm in it
I live it
I love it
FREEEEEEEEDOM
'S not given
So I'm takin'
If I did, it might sound something along the lines of:
I kind of thought that we were meant
to be
I really thought that you were the one
for me
HEEEEEEEEEELL
I'm in it
I live it
I love it
FREEEEEEEEDOM
'S not given
So I'm takin'
i don't have enough contact with women to have a oneitis
though back when i wasn't so jaded and isolated i remember really liking this song during the time i had a crush on girl at work
though back when i wasn't so jaded and isolated i remember really liking this song during the time i had a crush on girl at work
I'm far too old and have experienced far too much or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say have experienced far too little, to be capable of infatuation any longer. Knowing full-well that every woman who looks at you considers you repulsive makes fantasizing about sharing your life with one something of a difficult task. After a certain point not even your dreams are willing to concede to your desires or bend to your wishes; I stopped experiencing sexual dreams as I grew older not because of a flagging libido but because every woman I tried to approach even in my dreams began to flee when I attempted to reach out to them.
Funny isn't it? My sojourns beneath the Horizon are still capable of showing me horrors, Hellscapes rivaling Dante's most grotesque flights of fancy, but are no longer capable of providing me so much as a glimpse of the pleasures the vast majority of humanity eventually learn to take for granted. For what it's worth, that may be a strange sort of kindness. If my own experience is in any way representative of the tribe of the unloved and lost behind, the loss of happy dreams may be the only charity Father God extends to His mistakes and Mother Nature to Her monsters. If our primordial parents have decided we're fit only for Pandemonium, at least They have the courtesy to prepare us for it.
Having said all that, I was actually young once even though I myself often find that hard to believe. I still have some vague recollection of the absurd love a monster can harbor for a woman before the former inevitably realizes that the abomination lurking behind the mirror isn't some distortion born from neurosis but a reflection of Reality as it actually is. Deluded, there was a brief moment in time I actually believed I was becoming something like an actual person. So I suppose I have a song to share.
One of the most difficult things about growing old as a truly ugly thing isn't needing to resort to your dreams to pretend you're human; it's having to do so with the dimming memory of them.
Funny isn't it? My sojourns beneath the Horizon are still capable of showing me horrors, Hellscapes rivaling Dante's most grotesque flights of fancy, but are no longer capable of providing me so much as a glimpse of the pleasures the vast majority of humanity eventually learn to take for granted. For what it's worth, that may be a strange sort of kindness. If my own experience is in any way representative of the tribe of the unloved and lost behind, the loss of happy dreams may be the only charity Father God extends to His mistakes and Mother Nature to Her monsters. If our primordial parents have decided we're fit only for Pandemonium, at least They have the courtesy to prepare us for it.
Having said all that, I was actually young once even though I myself often find that hard to believe. I still have some vague recollection of the absurd love a monster can harbor for a woman before the former inevitably realizes that the abomination lurking behind the mirror isn't some distortion born from neurosis but a reflection of Reality as it actually is. Deluded, there was a brief moment in time I actually believed I was becoming something like an actual person. So I suppose I have a song to share.
One of the most difficult things about growing old as a truly ugly thing isn't needing to resort to your dreams to pretend you're human; it's having to do so with the dimming memory of them.
E
Incels
Oneitis
Oneitis
I hate my last "Oneitis" I hope she die
I
G
I'm so tired
Where can I lay my head?
I'll just close my eyes
Hope I wake up dead
Don't want to live without you
Don't leave me out here to die
Maybe another time and space
When I can look you in the face
Far, far away
Maybe in another life..
G
I don't have a real oneitis.
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