Freedom

I am finally free…I spread my wings to the extent of my writings.

Grace me with more knowledge and let me be embraced by the teachings of the fellow bloggers. 

Dearest world, I’m here 👋🙏👼

#mystartingpoint #explore #happiness #love #foundmyself #pricelessjoy #blogger #expressão

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CAN WE PRETEND.

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I’ve always been bad at pretending like I don’t. I do. Besides its my second nature , “the denial mechanism”…anyway…We not talking, not texting and not seeing each other as suggested. Or as should.  Distance shouldn’t matter for me cause what I feel is real, I’m not under some yesterday’s rush of lustful good sex that clouds my mind to thinking I’m in love or confused. I am clear. I just really do fuckin love you. And I want you here. Right with me. I feel that everyday. Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but I do. And knowing that you don’t care, doesn’t change anything.

At least for now.

So don’t act like I’m absurd for finally saying it out loud…I love you. And if you can’t swallow that, tough. You need to deal with it. I can’t do this anymore hey, I can’t pretend like you mean less than what you really mean to me. I just can’t. I’ve been doing it for a long time, I can’t take it. If there was a time; I’d stop loving you if I could, I would’ve done it. Trust me. Anything was better than making me feel like you don’t care. Like I don’t even have a 5 second attention of your time.

But don’t worry. You will one day be nothing to me. Just a fading memory.

THE LIFE OF ME

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You ever so tired…? Tired of being a being at all? Not suicidal,  but just feeling like you accept the challenge of feeling done. Like scream the life of me,  I accept. But those are just thoughts , randomly fed up feeling like a victim most times. Trying to get rid of the power that makes you feel down, cause you have to turn around and people around you would expect you to be okay.

Damn it, you expect yourself to be okay. Even when you feel least fine, but you have to wear a suit of being strong. No, no…you can’t be weak. It’s not an option , because the weakness attest to being the change outta you. Not the good change, no. You wish it would. It’s like you keep up with the biggest stone to carry up to the mountains,  and you almost succeed if it weren’t for the stone coming down where you are and bury you under it, again, and again.

Whew, this shouldn’t be personal; but life as you call it would make it feel so. Be friendly, at the very least. You push what means more than anything in the world to you because you almost feel ashamed, that someone, that very one should not be around when you almost feel like breaking. Being a collateral damage. At least give me an inch self, you don’t deserve this.When all the darkness, and all ways to bury you…coming heavy to let you be done.

 

“Get the fuck out of here”, I said…”you don’t have a home right here with me”.

 

Well at least you get away with it for a while. And then it pulls away, you rush to remember to breathe. Here you go again…

 

LULAMA-100 shades of fucked up

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When it felt good to love him regardless, I then realised…

I think I have a thing for fucked up niggas. Like the more they treat me undeserving,  the challenge I feel. And it’s not a matter of being unaware of my worth, self worth per say. No. I do realize this nigga be phucking up, I deserve better than the way he treats me. For instance,  “the unsolvable called nigga” did the most to show me that I meant nothing to him, lies, ghosting, only available for sex type of shit. And that’s that. Ow yes, not being forced and I remember he once said to me, “you know you can always say no, you don’t have to come if you not up for it”.

For a moment I felt like shit when he said that, like how could I disrespect myself to that extent!? Like that nigga is supposed to be dead for the longest time that I can’t even spell his name right, because I’m too respective to his dead bones to even call him out. But you know what’s more fucked up, here I am…still yearning for him, day by fucking day! Out of all the bullshit he’s done to make me feel crappy, I don’t hate him. I want him. I love him. I sort of crave him.

If its not the fucked up thing you’ve ever read, what is?

And oh no dear, I’m not obsessed with him – its just something wrong with my emotions perhaps. Sometimes it’s like I find the worth in them personally that the disturbing outburst of being a jerk – its just a cover. They being defensive and running away from being who they can potentially be. You probably asking,  do I think I can save them?!. Probably not, but its a thrill while I try to. So when I succeed,  I know how real its been. Now I wish I had a higher self to psychologically tell me what this really mean. Anyway that motherfucker is always a special one, not just anybody.

#THELIFEOFME #imagination #truthandnotso #storytelling #excusemylanguage

 

THE LIFE OF ME

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“I miss you”…that’s probably my most used expression this year. I can’t count how many times I’ve said that, and how much I’ve meant it. To the one person, one person whom I love so much. This person is absolutely everything I ever wanted in someone I’d call my love, someone I’d want to share my life with for the rest of it while I exist on planet earth. He’s flawed and perfect for me. I’ve probably given you a hint on what’s this about. I miss him. I have days where I can get a grip of my human flesh and snap out of it mentally and eventually emotionally, it seem easy to go by then.

Sometimes it gets too much that I’ve felt nothing close to it before. My body aches painfully and I find myself weak missing him. We’ve been apart for a year and almost three months now-don’t faint yet! We talk, honestly our communication helps out a lot. Makes a huge difference because I find myself feeling close to him. It’s almost as if nothing has changed until those weak times I’d desperately need him, physically close to me. It was the time of my life when we shared years together, not that I knew at the time. No one ever does really…until it passes.

Now I get this feeling like every time I want him close, like mine with me…I’m selfish. Like if I told him I missed him that much, he’s been gone for way too long; I can’t cope – that I’m being unreasonable. How can you say that like you don’t know the situation?!?, sadness and heartbreak wells in me when I, myself ask such questions before I could explain it to him. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it together that I think sometimes I’ll shatter. What if I lose it? Him gone, trying to hide how my world has detonated into a thousand shards. That I sometimes feel like I am literally breaking up in pieces cause it hurts that much.

How could I ever tell him that I needed him back with me without feeling unreasonable and selfish at the time? Without appearing as someone who couldn’t be strong…not just for us, but for the circumstances that we facing? How do I ever be truthful in full terms about how much I need him without actually losing him? Haven’t I been strong enough? How does anyone ever do this? Life getting by and yet you feel like you hardly living it because you’re not full. How could I? Nothing makes sense when I have such sad questions and feelings at the same time.

Last ones. Perhaps.

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I was nerve wrecked when it was almost coming true. For months I was almost giving up, I was done for good this time. I had erased him in all parts where I could find him existing except my heart. That was an impossible fight for me. But just one, just one time I was almost in sink for what was happening. A situation binded us all back again. It’s crazy- come to think of it! He was practically off the grid with any sort of communication with me. He’d done an amazing, impeccable good job flushing me out of his space, his life. Circumstances or not, it was still the same outcome for me…for us.

Like I said, a situation binded us again. It was almost convenient for him I guess. Who am I fooling??? It was an attempt. Definitely worked better for both of us. I didn’t just want, I needed to see him again. To be touched by just him, and talk to him. I needed to be reminded how he tasted, not just once but as countless times possible. Hope spiked in me when I saw his missed call; and it was almost too much to want. You’d read this and think, how can one be so bent on someone like this? – to whom clearly sounds like he was doing the most to never be in contact with and yet…here she is, welcoming a chance to see him again.

Be with with him.

I guess it’s stupid right, it happens. Sounds so dumb that I could write it out, but give me a chance here. It nerve wrecks me every time I get to go and see him for just seconds. The moment I get to be with him, all that goes shut. He makes me feel comfortable, alive, and honestly, makes me feel home by his side. I don’t get to be someone I’m not, portraying acts that I don’t fit in to. That’s the point. I be myself and it’s all I look forward to just before the moment I have to say goodbye. Me and him, we get each other…it’s not so hard to be just us, with us. We practically good friends if it meant we weren’t fucking.

#writings #feelings #lustandloverelationship #imagination #storytelling #hurt #shorttermhappiness #longing #himandher #getoverit

 

 

 

Turning tables

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“So what…is the sex confusing you? ”

As I was with him…I was excited right on when I finally saw his face. I dreaded to be with him again because every time I am, I seem to lose a grip of myself. The memory of him always has the power to make me ache, with lustful and sadness memories. The wishful thinking, the wonderland that I tend to visit when we no longer together. How perfect we were for each other that it sent chills in my chest. My heart quickened, my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths.

I finally got inside the car after nervously struggling with a bag; as he asked for a quick hug…as if he wasn’t sure I’d give him a go ahead! It wasn’t long, but it was long enough for me to feel like every inch of me thinks I should leave. That right moment, but my flesh tingles. And begs for more. As he started the engine to take off, my insides were tremendously themed for joy as his eyes met mine and we did sweet nothings of greetings. His compliment to my beauty made me blush as I was looking at him, thinking how mouthwatering he looked. It brought sex to my mind. His smile…amazing sex.

It was a beautiful night, he was full of humour as I last visited. We were clearly glad to be around each other again. We did much of talking and in the bedroom…I was asked for a second hug. I jumped at it because I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. We hugged, it felt so good – I just wanted to eat him up . He wasn’t just beautiful , he was able to make me feel unhinged. There I was…I kissed his neck, everything in me was helpless to every feels that made my lips turn to his neck.

He liked that, he didn’t hesitate to tell me it was his weak spot. My bloodstream was exploding as he said that against my ear, without realizing…it was my weakness too. Excitement danced its way through my veins. Desire. Lust. All there at the idea that this man was finally touching me again, kissing me. It was like we both felt the same, I could feel the rush, and the lustful pleasure between us…running all over us. For too long I’d merely dreamed of being held by him again, him kissing me and knowing I was his…at least for those moments. Of course I craved for more.

It was as amazing and as exquisite as I had craved it long for, it might as well be the best sex we ever made together. It pains in my heart as I look back and think of it…it was supposed to last. Confirmed for more best sex to come. The air feels hollow now, like it did that day. Like breathing is no longer an option. With dizziness,  so I’d say now…a beautiful song was played in the morning and gave me hopes, together even more with the talks we had last night.  Beautiful night it was! I spent all day, thinking , and working out ideas and thoughts of how the talk could go.

I promise, I always feel like I miss moments with him…maybe its a way to comfort myself but it such a feeling I can’t shake. “What do you want?” , he asked…I’m a mess with him. I can think straight and yet when I talk, I’m a mess. Indirect as I was, I tried telling him “I want you”. His movement expression in bed makes me think it physically pains him. Then he looks in me, through me as like I’m not making sense. Admittedly, I was all over the place with my words, God…I couldn’t do that again if I could. Especially knowing the outcome. Or maybe I would…it fucks with me really.

Maybe we should stop seeing each other…no, that’s not the option. It’s not something that would make me stop loving you. I’ve tried for months,  for fuck sake…it been a year already. I love you. We don’t want people to get hurt, you, me, it’s all complicated. So what really…is the sex confusing you? Sadness and regret welled inside me. Hell, this sucked. I hope he doesn’t hear the way my voice cracks, falls through that sad space…no, absolutely not. With a fake laugh, I just still want to see you. That part was the truth. Now you all wish the talk would go exactly or almost, or not even close to what I just mentioned. Ride with me ,will you…

Happy November!

 

 

Starved morning

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Convinced I was making a progress, I wasn’t thinking about you since I made a fool of myself and told you that I was thinking about you, with a bottle in my hand. I had promised myself you weren’t worth any of my time I spend thinking about you, wishing we could be more than what is.

Friends kept asking about you, but I refused the pleasure of saying your name. I refused you any chance of being a topic even if it was just for a minute. I was doing well I swear, I could spend days not even thinking of you. I stopped checking your updates, I blocked you and deleted your numbers.

You were nothing but a lifeless memory until one morning…just that one morning I dreamed of you. All the dream did was to make it feel real and I woke up realizing I was fucked. It felt like I went 100 feels backwards to thinking of you. Now I’m back missing you and wishing we could have a chance.

#storytelling #imagination #relationship #lostlove #friendshipconfession #hurt #feelings #writings #hadenough