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About haventaclue

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  1. Can a tree ever feel happy when its leaves are still? Because I still feel the rush as he moves me, and I wonder if trees feel the same relief as the wind blows over its branches. It is true that I still look at him and see treasure in his dark brown eyes. Time has not yet taught me indifference to his gifts. But is happiness a place of stillness? Yes, the greatest danger comes when I am most at risk of happiness. Danger of self-sabotage, perhaps. If he moves me like nature, like wind through trees, then you are a tornado. How eager I am to be torn apart by you, with no promise of survival. Maybe danger is what I seek after all.
  2. haventaclue


    You lie still. I lie awake. We lie. Together. In this bed that is not yours, there is no truth but this one. And I will hold on as long as you do. But no longer.
  3. It was the chaos of the unknown that frightened her most. Why wouldn’t she speak, when there was much to say? This was to be the tipping point, from security to deep uncertainty. Into the chaotic unknown, she fell. She saw him shaking. She felt his heart. She knew. That was enough, she thought. That was too much.
  4. I get it. Something that always brings a sense of satisfaction: my hair brushing the skin on my arms. I have really long hair and sometimes I curl up into a ball and cover myself with it like a blanket. Strange sort of stimulation, but soothing.
  5. Insanity blooms through dismal gray fog, expose these sleepless nightmares.
  6. Vibrant! Shooting stars caught, helpless, in your orbit. Crash if you want to.
  7. haventaclue


    Refresh. Refresh. Still nothing. Where once there was paint, there now is emptiness. The t has worn away, four letters leftover, all meaning changed. I cant look at these walls anymore. Would you understand if I finished what you started? The destruction of us? I’m tearing it all down. Starting with me.
  8. Silence, without peace, is torture.
  9. I hate being cold. Personally I could probably live the rest of my life with a blanket wrapped around me and be quite happy, but that’s just me. My boyfriend on the other hand... opposite problem. He hates to sweat, overheats easily, keeps his house at about a toasty 65 degrees. I frequently raid his sock drawer when I visit. Last year when he left the state for a couple weeks, he let me borrow his coziest pair of socks so I wouldn’t get too cold without him, and also to remind me that he would come back. Now I always keep a pair of his socks at my place, and I put them on when I need to feel safe and warm. Tonight I feel lonely and sad, so I put on my boyfriend’s socks. I feel a little better already. I would love to hear what kind of simple things give you comfort when you need a little pick-me-up.
  10. Where is the button to smallify my writing? Hell, where is the button to smallify mySELF? Is my heart too big, is that why I feel all this misery? Is my brain too big, is that why I can't stop thinking about everything that went wrong, is going wrong, will go wrong, might go wrong? I know what went wrong, it's me, it's always been me, even my parents knew. How can I take the feelings away?
  11. haventaclue


    So much fear. Afraid to get close. Afraid to keep distance. Afraid to be alone. Afraid of people. Fu.c.king terrified of people. I love them, but they scare me. Afraid to be stuck here. Afraid to move forward after everything I've given up. The truth is that I'm afraid to try. I'm afraid to fail again. I don't want to envision a life I can't have, when it's hope for the future that got me here. So much time wasted. I'll be optimistic another day.
  12. Happy Happy New Year! I hope you see light in every day.
  13. It's not a load of bollocks. I feel that way, too. There's definitely a huge element of self preservation to keeping people away. My problem is that I don't hate people at all, I love them very much. But I don't trust them to love me back, and that's what hurts. That I can't hate them when they hate me. I still love them too much. Maybe I'm just better at loving them from a distance.
  14. I could write on paper, I suppose. But how do we feel what we can't see? I don't want you to see me, but I want you to feel me. Is that selfish? I love you so much already. It's why I hide from you. If you get close, you'll hurt me, and I don't have room for another scar. If I get close, I'll hurt you. I will give too much, and you will start to need me. And then I will disappear, breaking both our hearts at once. I love you, I love you... I'm sorry.
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