I don’t know why I cry sometimes. It’s so useless and I know it. My blood just boils up and my throat tightens and the tears just come out. I don’t know why this happens, but it does and I can’t help it. I hide my tears and I hide who I really am. No one knows me, no one deserves to.
I don’t know what love is, or whose creation it was, but love does not exist. There are feelings of affection, desire, and happiness, but there is no love. We can compromise for each other, we can lust, but there is no love. We can envy and hate, but we can not love. Love is a word which is meaningless, therefore it can not be defined.
It’s as if boredom is trying to rule my life. I could feel it in my skin, in loneliness, in desires. I am bored of living the same life day after day, without any spontaneous events to be astonished by, without hopes in my dreams, and without feelings in my heart. Everyday is the same, and I want to be excited and anxious. I want to feel an emotion. It has dawned upon me that all I live for is living- just to breathe and survive.
Paradise -Ana Serrano Van Der Laan
