DIARY #7


Relationships are harder now

Because conversations become texting, arguments became phone calls, feelings became subliminal, sex became easy, the word “love” is used out of context, insecurities became a way of thinking, getting jealous became a habit, trust is hard to come by, being hurt became natural & leaving became the only option. Sad but true, so if you have something that’s worth it… Don’t take it for granted, fight for it & don’t let go.


She may love you. She probably does. She probably thinks about you all the time. But that isn’t what matters. What matters  is what she’s doing about it, and what she’s doing is nothing, you most certainly shouldn’t do anything. You need someone who goes out of their way to make it obvious that they want you in their life.


The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.


The biggest communication problem is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply


Boyfriend: Babe you look like a barbie
Girlfriend: Aw thank you, I look very beautiful today
Boyfriend: No, All plastic and have no brain


Just hold me in comforting silence


I can express my innermost thoughts only to a select few. You need to find a friend who will listen to all the thoughts you have bottled up inside you without judging you.Till the time you do so take advantage of this loneliness to think and introspect.


We drink and smoke about our problems but never really talk about them ☁️ or we will explode not in literally way


Melancholy is a species of sadness that arises when we are open to the fact that life is inherently difficult. Maybe suffering contributes to our development.

Understanding is grasping without rage… often sadness simply makes a lot of sense.
Just focus why there is still time.


When no one has listened to us, so we come to social life and become greedy to speak rather than listen.. hungry to meet others but reluctant to hear them, maybe friendship would be generated into socialized egoism.

Good listeners do not moralize, the good listener is aware of how insane we all are.. they well enough not to be surprised or frightened about this, they are skilled at some people did it occasionally, and they recognize and accept our follies, they reassuring us without shred our dignity.

They see our vulnerability is something they warm to rather than become appalled by.


Truth ‘hurts’ indeed, but lies ‘kill’..


Love stories so unhelpful to our actual love lives we have learned, to judge ourselves by the hopes and expectations fostered by the misleading medium of art by its standards our own relationship are most all damaged unsatisfactory.

No wonder separation or divorce so often appear to be inevitable, they shouldt be. we merely need to change what we watchin or read, so that we regulary take syories that normalize our love troubles and show is an intelligent and helpful path to through.


But a wise kind of love story would know that the real is not finding apartment, its tolerating them and being tolerated over time, it should appreciate that the start of relationships is not the high point that romantic culture assumes its merely the first step of a far longer more ambivalent and it quietly far more heroic journey.


Such an incredible waste of energy, to work your ass off for sixty years, then shrivel up, die, and be nothing more than a memory – if you’re lucky enough to leave someone behind who will remember you. There must be more. Don’t you think?


Her smile is like summer moonlight-beautiful and magical, with a fire that could melt the night


Isn’t it ironic, how diplomatic are we, we ignore those who adore us, adore those who ignore us, hurt those who love us, and love those who hurt us.


‘I remember mystep father had beated me with hanger, pieces of wood and all kind of stuffs. After every beating he would tell me, “you hurting me more than that i’ve hurted you. I did it cause I love you” it is kinda communicate me with kind of wrong message about what love was..’

‘So many years, I thought love was, It is all about hurt, and I hurt everybody that I love.. and I measured love by how much pain someone hurted by me.’


Stuck between not hurting her but destroying me and hurting both of us. it’s just not fair sometimes is it, but that’s the price to pay for love


If you were to stab me in the back, i would say sorry for bleeding on you


I want to shower them with ‘I love you’s’ but they’re not here, they left. I wish they loved me. She was the only person I ever really loved. She means so much to me. But you can’t make someone love you. And nothing will be the same if she came back. I still love her.


I’m my worst enemy it Is not my life, but inside of me. Always on a roller coaster, not much consistency. I’m nothing if I’m not up or down. I’m nothing if just ‘me.’ Sometimes I have very little energy. Wanting to stay in bed. Wishing to be enthusiastic, Instead of feeling like I’m made of lead. Wanting to be excited. Wanting to care for more, but when nothing makes sense. It’s hard to focus on the poor. Cluttered mind, cluttered thinking. It’s hard to keep in touch with what is happening around me and not to worry too much.

I feel that everybody is better than me and that I can’t do anything right. This is how I’ve felt my whole dang life. It didn’t just start last night. Living seems like a roll of the dice sometimes.

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