The trouble with being intelligent is that you feel as though nobody can possibly understand what’s going on in your head. You’re constantly forced to live up to expectations of others simply because you are so capable, and people think it’s incredibly funny and odd when you mess up.
The trouble with being a sensitive heterosexual is that girls would rather have a douchy boyfriend and pine after a sensitive man than have a sensitive boyfriend and wish he would man up. So the sensitive guys end up being the ones who pine after sensitive girls, who apparently are just that hard to come by.
The trouble with being who I am is that I always feel like half of a whole. A heart without a body, yet somehow heartless by myself. And Nobody is capable of being my other half. Nobody can fathom the depths of my thoughts and emotions, and as a result my heart is shrouded in deep darkness, hiding in shadows, where some comfort, some solace can be had. The shadows are comfortable, but Nobody will get over the fear of it.
In my opinion life is entirely about proving oneself, the question is, to whom? To oneself? To one’s peers? one’s family, or loved ones? to someone venerable, higher than oneself? When you can answer this question, then you can know that you’re on the right track.
How do you describe emotions to someone who cannot feel? Does a hearth offer the warmth of love? Can joy be equated to the sense of weightless one feels when falling? Is rage really a force down upon oneself, crushing like a boulder on one’s shoulders? And sadness, is that like the emptiness those without hearts are so accustomed to? Or do all these things have a fundamentally different aspect about them which is indescribable for those who haven’t experienced them firsthand? Poets and writers, with all their skill, may ascribe epithets to these emotions, but who may truly be so bold as to capture the true essence in words?
To be human is a curious state to be in. To have a heart, it is certainly something to be envied. Emotion sets humans apart from beasts, makes them something higher than animal. But is it not also a burden? Do not these feelings cloud judgement, complicate decisions, and bring forth suffering and pain? Is it not better to lack a heart, to be nobody and thus purely logical and precise? For all the trumpeting about love and joy, these things yet cannot exist without hatred and grief, and every other duplicitous facet of humanity. Better to be free of existence, free of your heart, and driven solely by the mind.
notwaitingforahero asked: post more.
what am I supposed to post? I was kinda waiting for inspiration to strike… -.-
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