‘Pajamas and chocolate may go well together 

but so do strands of inky black hair 

curled up on your sweater 

and so does this terror 

this rippling Golden terror with its waves 

if love were a gushing torrent 

maybe sometimes 

it should be allowed to flow to 

a trickle 

but one does not simply 

throw their hands up and flee 

at even the merest hint of confusion 

for it is a duel ; one dark and twisted waltz 

with the tender ghosts of yourself 

so that is why i tell you to surrender 

why the words roll of my tongue 

dripping like honey ; a swift manipulation 

you yield and pour and love without pretensions 

But I get so small 

we’re such puny little things 

feathery and hollow-boned ; fuck off honesty 

says the day to the night 

leave me be , begs stability 

i know that tolerance became a habit 

but you exploded stars in-front of my eyes 

and i can only take so much beauty 

beauty that i swore was nothing to do with truth ‘

“Just because two people are capable of deeply hurting each other over and over again does not make them passionate, star-crossed lovers. It makes them two people who keep doing terrible things to each other. Someone’s ability to make you completely and utterly soul-crushingly miserable does not mean they are a soul mate with some deep insight into your psyche. They are just someone who is really good at making you unhappy.”

Screw falling in love.

My heart itself is already in tangles. A web of nonsense
and a drawerful of necklace chains that I will never
have the patience to separate. I am sounds mixed with
different mediums of light. Six thousand eight hundred
dialects of flesh that I don’t have enough time to
translate into words. This dictionary of skin is unreadable and
Latin is dead because of what we never had the balls to
tell each other.

I am swearing off of love because everything inside of me
is oil and vinegar and I no longer believe that it’s morally correct
to fall in love with the intent of both destroying and rebuilding 
another human being. I am a forest fire and an ocean, and
my favorite color is the same as the color that hurts me the most.

I don’t want your sentimentality. Quit looking at me intending
to melt me. We all know it’s working. We all know what this heart
is capable of unfolding.

I am not as strong as my words pretend to be. Not 
as quiet as these caesuras promise. This heart is a patchwork quilt of people
that leave different shades of blue inside of me.

The drowning. Your skies. 
The outline of a blue jay on a porcelain plate.

For now, I am closing off these bones for someone who will know
how to trace me without me ever telling them what I look like naked.

I no longer want to seduce the words out of people just to see
if I can. The love that I’m looking for falls out of the realm of your lips
and my lips and our lips doing a dance that involves bodies and more skin
and your hair touching mine, gently, like two winds
colliding.

Screw falling in love.

It’s too much to handle when
I’m already having difficulties breathing and keeping track of my
heartbeats and making sure that my limbs are doing what
they need to be doing.

But,
men are so beautiful.

But this heart is so
fragile.

I am every vulnerability that the thesaurus has to
offer me and in a certain light it’s impossible for me not to pull you
towards me with the intent of kissing the very life
out of you.

What I’m trying to say is that you are not allowed in.
What I’m trying to say is that all I want is to open myself up and have you
rearrange me, untangle the gold chains of my heart, love me for
every shade of blue that I have hidden in the silent spaces
between parentheses.

I have sworn off of falling in love,

but I know that in the morning, 
outside, in the pale frost of February,

all I’ll want is to hold another person’s hand, warm and
gloved, in their coat’s pocket.

- Shinji Moon

(this is going to make me melt)

“Why wasn’t she home where she belonged? Why couldn’t she go to Europe or disappear or die? The hell with this aching, suffering, callow, half-assed delusion that he was in ‘love’ with her. The hell with ‘love’ anyway, and with every other phony, time-wasting, half-assed emotion in the world.”

“Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.”

“I think we all speak a different kind of language than each other, but you sound a whole lot like coffee on a Sunday morning and the rain is falling bitter against the windowpane and your elbows are making holes in the countertops, and I only want to tell you that I wish I was as close as the threads of your t-shirt, and if I can’t be that, then I’ll be content with drinking my drink beside you, with the rain sloppy open mouth kissing the roof, trying to dismantle the etymology of a conversation that falls out of the realm of words.”

Via Green Eggs and Ham (saadmalik8) 

We all believe or accept a certain set of premises, these appear to range from the nature of the world, where we came from to what kinds of individuals we like or dislike. For most of us, these generally go consciously unnoticed. We simply accept these as frameworks on which we base our behavior in our day to day lives. However, at times these come into question, perhaps post adversity or due to simple introspection. These are the times which lead one to realize how our premises are not governed by rational thought but rather at times through random cognitive biases which under normal circumstances would never have come to be acknowledged. A cognitive bias is drawing conclusions based on “gut feeling” instincts which often lead to the birth of false premises. For instance, lets observe the conformation bias, this refers to when an individual seeks evidence conforming their beliefs rather than look for counter evidence. “Seek and you shall find”, indeed. Or, let’s observe Belief bias, where an argument is deemed valid/invalid based on prior personal belief rather than evidence in support of it. These are to name, few of a set of numerous biases on which we anchor our decision making, beliefs, and perception on, knowing this, immediately makes one think, how do I know if what I believe is rational? If I have faith regarding God, has it resulted from me noticing all premises which support the given notion or have I paid equal attention to counter arguments?

Understanding the limitation of the self in recognizing patterns within the world steadily turns one humble. It also leads to a deep respect for the conclusions drawn from the sciences. Here remains, a source of knowledge, unbiased, peer reviewed and utterly rational in its discourse. Thus in my personal life, I remain I a relativist, uncertain regarding personal beliefs and try to, although at times fail, base my conclusions regarding the world and the universe as a whole on evidence as appose to self created premises.