Category: Uncategorized

  • Will I Ever Learn?

    The only lesson that I keep learning from relationships is that the utterances of endearing affection at the peak of the relationship should always be taken with a pinch of salt, but that rare moment of appreciation feels so good that I forget quite quickly how many times before it was the start of that painful trend.

    The trend seems to go like this…

    1. They relate to something I post
    2. Express curiosity about my views on their current emotional state
    3. Amazement at how much I get them, or relate to the space they’re in
    4. Outpouring of emotions regarding past hurts and betrayals
    5. Spirited exchange of sharp wit and adorable indulgences of philosophies on life and people
    6. Some feigned curiosity about me
    7. Realisation of how vulnerable they are given the information they’ve shared over such a short period of time
    8. Defensiveness at every observation or comment I share from that point, despite it being previously devoured but is suddenly distasteful
    9. Desperate attempt to re-establish their defenses
    10. Venomous attack on how insensitive I am about the space they’re in and how I don’t understand them at all or how I need to get an education
    11. Cut ties without explanation and a healthy dose of grossly inaccurate assumptions about me

    And so the trends persist…it’s an emotionally expensive way to live life. Caring about people in whose lives I have no vested interest, nor do they in mine. I try to convince myself that I’m jaded, but I know it’s all an insincere lie in an attempt to convince me to be a cold detached prick that sees weakness as a pathetic state, rather than a desperately human one. But I know how desperately human I am, that’s why I’ll always be dumb enough to extend myself to those that forget what beauty they hold within.

    I’ve fallen in love with the human spirit. Pity it hasn’t fallen in love with me.

  • ramblings of the mind III.

    justkeepbreathingnow:

    “will justice ever come?” she said

    “I think not, my dear;

    for truth and lies be your demise

    and liars be your fear.”

    forevereyes stare back at mine

    and gleam a rainy gold

    the end of days at edges frays

    as somehow, we grow old.

  • Spent one third of my life sleeping, another third working, and the other third was wasted believing in people.

  • Scenes of Sadness

    (c) Cynically Jaded

    South Africa

  • Sometimes, like right now, I stare at my Tumblr dashboard and realise that it’s a painful reflection of the emptiness of my life. It’s supposed to be an escape, an outlet, a form of creative expression or mental ejaculation, but instead it only reinforces the very same realisations that I try to ignore. I’m reminded of all the people that tell me that I just don’t get it, I don’t get them, I’m missing the point, or I don’t understand women. But the logic of how much I get it stares blankly at me saying, ‘wtf?’

    Then I look at my post editor telling me that I already asked two questions today so I can only ask another one tomorrow and I wonder if it gives a shit about the fact that most of my questions go unanswered anyway? Now I’m talking to my post editor, which makes me almost as shallow a douche bag as the ones I despise.

    Pathetically unique, or uniquely pathetic? Looking for meaning in the wrong places, or doomed to be insignificant? Fighting my true nature, or simply in denial? What does it matter? Asking these questions doesn’t change what is, it only reaffirms what is not. I should be asleep right now, but I’m averse to getting into bed again. 

    Nothing gives you quite a mind fuck like betrayal…it’s the wine of the heathens! 

  • That sad moment when people you admired turn out to be insincere shallow douche bags

  • I pray that I live to see the day when psychiatrists will be out of business, and psychologists will realise that their accumulated knowledge was intended to result in a greater contribution than just “How does that make you feel?”

  • curiositywillkill:

    If I walk on broken roots, and you on two feet, am I not to be walking because I do not walk like men do?

    If I stand with my roots in the ground, and you with your two feet above soil, am I not to be standing because I do not stand like men do?

    Why are my gems stolen, my fruits eaten, my flesh torn? Why are my children crying, why are yours? Why do you weep when the sky weeps for me, why do you laugh when the sky laughs at you?

    O, tell me, why are my bones exploited for heat, and then my whole family pitied from the very thing? Why do you throw me in fire, but grow helpful when the fire is thrown into me?

    Why do you trifle with scrawny, strewn limbs and use them as tools? Why do you steal babes from the nesters to please your own follies?

    O, man, tell me so, why is that we are not let to stand? If you will destroy me, leave not even my roots. Burn me, light me all, let my ashes bring life.

    Let us not be stood without will and planted by paved roads and lit lamps. Burn us down, burn us up, do not let me leave my bounds.

    Let us be, let us move. Let us stand and walk, breathe and beat, wake and slumber. Let us be everything, let us free. Let us free like your men.