What can we do…

He seems like the type of guy that caters to his woman, who makes her feel wonderful all the time, puts her needs before his, makes sure she’s happy and satisfied.

You seem like the type of girl who could walk all over him.

True.

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The wall

There’s always something blocking ahead. There’s always the wall; thick and made up of stones and concrete. I can kick it. I can try to punch it down with all my passion, but it just won’t collapse. I shiver and pace in this forsaken room. The lights are dim and the cold clouds claim and hide my hopes outside. I sit leaning against this wall and watch silence eat me alive; my skin, my breasts, my neck, my lips. This darkness that spills when the daylight fades out; it chews up my tender flesh, apathetically, despicably, bit by bit.

Say there’s more to this world than this. Give me a hint that you’re alive and that you’d hold me tight in these days so cold, so real, and so long. Give me reassurance that we wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Hold my face, fix your gaze, peer into my soul and tell me that I am who I am and that’s all that you see. That’s all that you’ve always wanted. Can you see through this wall? Let me try to break it. You can’t imagine the strength that runs through my veins. I can’t take it. I’ll take your hand and we’ll run to paradise. In an oblivion full of you you you and me me me…. a kaleidoscope vision, a shimmering, startling sight. We’ve got to survive. This isn’t make-believe because I know you exist. I can hear you kicking the wall from the other side. Try and try, and try and try. I’m growing scared because I really don’t know where to take us from here. The grey clouds are vast and massive. The shadows slide in. The clock is ticking. A drop of sweat burns my eye and my heart is beating. The silence is killing.

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Intermittent

Intermittent. Everything in life is intermittent. I wanna feel high all the time. I wanna feel like I’m living nice all the time. But everything is intermittent. Everyone just sleeps at night or stays primarily quiet during the day thinking amongst themselves like lunatics. The highs that we feel together lasts only a few seconds, then during these intermittent times, we recall them, over and over again; artificially making the highs seem much longer than they really were. The highs suddenly become much higher than they really were. Our memories falsely recalls the past as if it was full of highs. We don’t remember that the past was, in fact, mostly intermittent. Just like it is now.
We lie in a room surrounded by our close ones during these intermittent times. We’re quiet next to each other and too busy thinking about the few second highs.
We’re just zombies waiting to wake up, waiting to feel the next high; while we’re bound like prisoners to our decaying bodies, ticking with the clock, during long intermittent times.

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No reason to explain why

There’s a concrete parking lot, cracked and with weed forming on the sides.
There’s a first floor classroom, crowded, cold and unfamiliar;
the people in it untrustworthy, suspicious, and dangerous. Sounds of machine carpentry on a summer day, mechanical, penetrating, uncomfortable. The smell of roadkill, toxicity, and cancer. A feeling of repetition, limbo, unwanted loneliness and fear.
Ninety degrees Fahrenheit nights, and waking up with anxiety.
Herd of delusional people. People who talk but say nothing meaningful, who live a routine lifestyle, and laugh without luster in their eyes. People who have it all together; acceptable personality, perfect family, work like a mule, and party when appropriate. People who expect the same from everyone. People and their generic, packaged, and automated versions of happiness. Feeling of distrust, loneliness, and coldness,
and there’s no reason to openly explain why.

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