Whatever your pleasures depend upon, that is your master. Therefor, any man that wishes to please that of which he wishes to possess, must master that said-thing’s happiness.
I have ideas that men and women are extraordinarily different from one another. I think individuals are extraordinarily different from one another, but why… Oh, hmm. We float over an abyss of dark chaos. We think we are flying in space, but we are being pushed-forth, by some Object behind us, yet also surrounding us.
I am afraid to die. You know why? Because I don’t like to not know where I am going and also what it is going to be like. I want to know the end. And the amazing part is that I’ve seen this again and again, like a thousand times.
I’m having a cold moment, but it somehow feels good. I think because it is emotional and dark, yet I know I am safe. Somehow safe from it all that which would/could drive me mad and over the edge. Oh, Ben Howard, he fucking nails it.
I like this, I’d like to keep this post. Someday to look back and see an honest and true representation of a specific, isolated, point in my life. I don’t need to feel guilty about being this way. I am loved and I love those people, even when I don’t. Others, enslaved to my Self, are in good and mutual company.
I want to say to the world: Answer me.
My curse is sadness.
There’s a filter on SnapChat that murdered me from laughing. It makes you look like you are fucking crying and it is SO good. ((Aww, shoot, I can’t upload videos unless I upgrade, so nah. Maybe someday.))