“I think love is a useless word for descriptions these days. Love binds and pulls and tugs and shatters, breaks and stirs and murders and revives, all at once. Love is a word turned into a full stop in teenagers’ conversations, peppered all over to spice a bowl of bland sentence soup. Love is an excuse for not loving. Love is an inspiration for the most handsome things in the world. Love is a justification for the ugliest things in the world. Love is indefinable, yet has its place in every single dictionary, in probably every single language.
And I won’t be hypocritical; I’m one of these people who exploit the word like breaths of air. It’s almost like a hello and goodbye in every conversation. It’s a “hey Tim, bye Tim, I love you Tim.” kind of thing. Its things you say drunkenly to strangers, or things you say to people you don’t really care about at all. Yet you can wake up one morning, to the most beautiful face you know, and know that this was the one, this was the one for sure, this was the one that makes your heart want to describe colours that don’t exist and the one that makes you want to stop time as you kiss and you lose your head into a blind space.
And all you could offer is the same “I love you” you praised your mom as she packed you pbnj sandwiches for lunch.
I could say I loved you, and be right and wrong all at once. I could say I loved you, and then squeeze in a “but”, but that would be like drawing a bold line in permanent marker across a Mona Lisa painted in gold with rubies and diamonds embedded in the details. I could say I love you. I could mouth it. Write it down. Paint it on paper and etch it on trees. But no. I don’t love you. I will never say it and mean it.
I will show you.”
—— Nova Halle
And I won’t be hypocritical; I’m one of these people who exploit the word like breaths of air. It’s almost like a hello and goodbye in every conversation. It’s a “hey Tim, bye Tim, I love you Tim.” kind of thing. Its things you say drunkenly to strangers, or things you say to people you don’t really care about at all. Yet you can wake up one morning, to the most beautiful face you know, and know that this was the one, this was the one for sure, this was the one that makes your heart want to describe colours that don’t exist and the one that makes you want to stop time as you kiss and you lose your head into a blind space.
And all you could offer is the same “I love you” you praised your mom as she packed you pbnj sandwiches for lunch.
I could say I loved you, and be right and wrong all at once. I could say I loved you, and then squeeze in a “but”, but that would be like drawing a bold line in permanent marker across a Mona Lisa painted in gold with rubies and diamonds embedded in the details. I could say I love you. I could mouth it. Write it down. Paint it on paper and etch it on trees. But no. I don’t love you. I will never say it and mean it.
I will show you.”
—— Nova Halle
Words of affection stirr the murmurs of the heart, but nothing could ever replace the assurance of affection in actions. Found this beautifully written piece online and I couldn't agree with the content more. There would always be times when the words string along the truest of emotions as it's said, but there are others when it's become a watered down version of its original existence- just an acknowledgement of existence to be exact.
Here's Speechless by The Veronicas which lyrics ring true to how i feel now.
And the MBIO paper was pure massacre, it killed me enough times to be one. I spend the last 10 min playing with a beetle crawling across my paper hoping it might grant me with an epiphany of some sort seeing that i saved it from being squashed by exam scripts. What a way to die. While lamenting my woes to joel the words " It's like I'm immune to failure despite hardwork already". Obviously I was pissed that despite studying my mind still drew an almost blank but it's no longer THAT bad. Then it dawned on me that my rebound rate for shit-that-happens was getting better. I guess the cliche is true ( as they always are ) , what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
BPHARM TOMORROW AND THEN MY MIND CAN GO ON A HOLIDAY WHILE MY BODY TOLLS FOR TRAINING. So appealing, really.
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