Would anything ever really mean anything?
Isn’t everything only meant to be temporary? Like the spark of love, the yearn of sex, the passion of conversations and the realization of a connection. That’s just how it goes. Comes and goes. And comes and goes. And now this thought I am confronting is that the repetition of even magic, makes it seem so dull once you go through the whole inner process from head to tail.

I don’t think I can ever make myself go through this turmoil again. Seriously! I am done. For love to happen. Again in some form of pretty little covered box that carries nothing but emptiness and loneliness at the end. Yeah, sex is something else entirely. I haven’t ever been able to write about it clearly I think. Because I haven’t yet understood it. I don’t mean the mechanics of it, of course, but the deal with it. The charm it carries. As well as the shame. Yet at the end, it’s something that is supposed to go in hand with love, at least that’s what I know. Sex without love is another doom to enter. And then, there are conversations. They are like light. While, there are conversations that happen with some reasons, the moments I cherished are conversations without any reasons. Random talks that still beautifully connects. And when that happens, thats when I fall in love. So, definitely I dont want conversation without reasons. Those that flow through endless days and nights effortlessly. This needs to be out as well. Its just an illusion to draw you in.

And thats as much, it seems. How one turns into a machine! If you would want to be as well, in the thought process of where I am, have your heart broken from someone you thought was the one?