The cold breeze touches my ears and goes away like it is playing with me, giving me that overwhelming feeling of being loved.
The feeling of being loved is what everybody desires in some form or another. It can be any 'type' of love. The love between a man and a woman, between families, or an adorable bond between siblings, and sometimes even an anonymous relationship, has love at its core. We all endeavor to love, need love, and deserve to be loved with no skepticism.
Many speak of self-love: If you think no one can satisfy your need for love, don't wait for others. "That's right! This is it." Fascinated by her thoughts, she lost the trail, and without realizing it, she came off the shoreline and struck her toe with a rock. A giant black rock surprised her and gave her a mischievous idea.
She let out an evil laugh out loud. Looking around, she collected some seaweed and white paint, turned the rock into a bride, and was satisfied with her work. She left her piece there and resumed walking, with every tiny step, she was getting closer to the shore, and within no time, a large wave came, which made her breathe heavy for the first time since her arrival in the unknown land. She could feel all the heaviness, making me sweat like a madman and break the mirage. She slipped and fell into the endless ocean. *huff* She twitched. "So, it was a strange nightmare!" I don't want to feel that feeling again.
*Annoyed* with her soaked, wet hair even in the chill winter of December. Yet, she felt relieved because they were short, which would reduce a certain percentage of stress. However, the nightmare blessed her with sleeplessness, and it was enough for her to feel even more weary than before. "Wth! 12:25 A.M." Soliloquy decided not to waste this blessing in disguise. She looked around to find her only sketchbook, filled with random sketches, then she started turning pages to find a fresh page and began scribbling.
[ONE HOUR LATER]
"Done!" she ended up drawing her anxiety, but this didn't let me rest. It pushed her into weaving her thoughts into a poem, thinking about the pros of it. ( Did I ever tell you how writing can give you therapeutic effects? You should write to triage your feelings, it helps, trust me.)
" I saw you staring at the abyss,
Magnificent! Your eyes were shining and screaming a tale,
However, who is prohibited to see.
Is triumphed by the devil."
Hmm ~~ it makes little sense, no matter what, I'm the one writing these weird things, and I'll be the one reading them repeatedly. Sometimes, my brain amazes me, making me wonder why I am like this because I just wanted a normal life...This is the moment when questions like
"Am I not worthy?" Strikes. Uzel, lately, she's been zoning out frequently, which is why my chances of telling her about how pathetic I am feeling about myself.
You must have heard the saying, 'Eyes never lie,' which explains why I can't control my tears anymore. The mental breakdown is getting the best of me, and I disapprove of that. *Leaning to one side of the bed, holding the pillow tightly, she pulled her hair tightly*. It may seem childish, but my teacher from middle school, talking about willpower, said: "Suppose your head hurts and after, sometimes you even knock your knee. Now, your knee hurts, and the blessing in disguise of this situation acted as a cover that led you to forget about your headache." Moral- "Everything is in your head, don't concentrate on unnecessary things, and they will not bother you." Weird, right? But it's true. Mild discomfort gets covered under the rug when the big one comes; this is precisely why whenever I cry, 'the want' to hurt myself grows. It helps me cover the pain.
'The night was longer than ever. Tears dried until Amber slept.'
[NEXT DAY]
Today will be fine, be optimistic, if I smile, then nothing bad will happen...Right? [She prayed for a good day.]