Rejection, the reason I never wanted to fall in love.
Too many sleepless nights.
Occupied by useless thoughts.
Not dreams just thoughts.
I hope she's alright.
Hope she feels half the way about me like the way I feel bout her.
If I told her, what would happen?
Or should I go this way?
Or should I tell her like this?
Or I should just play along and be friends while my heart burns for her?
Or should I let go and face the consequences?
Then still my heart for a while?
If I told her would my fate be same with the predecessors?
An action would need to be taken before I burn out?
Am I under a spell?
Why did I fall?
More like, why did I get to know her?
Why did I meet her at first?
Where did I go wrong?
Where did I lose my guard?
Have I become human?
What's up with me?
Or this one's special?
Or this one was made to crumble me?
Or this 1 was sent to crumble me?
Now I don't wanna be with no one else.
Now I just want to be alone.
Never to be part of a couple
Never to be united with nobody.
I'll adopt kids.
I'll fall in love with kids.
Never should I have fallen in love.
I should have just loved not fall in its trap.
Now I can't let lose.
Things must change.
Things have changed.
My stony heart melts.
Subject to heat of this feeling.
This is difficult.
So this is what mortals feel.
This is what it feels like.
This is dependency.
What I hate most.
Dependence for care.
Dependence for happiness.
Dependence for love.
This is what I read bout.
This is where continually fed feelings lead.
I think this is where immortality ends.
This would crumble man.
Reading Children of Blood & bone . The narrative & descriptions felt so real. Whenever I got lost in a fantasy world of panthenaires, lionaires, maji, kosidans and magic I never wanted leave. Those moments felt like I lived the fiction & I wanted no escape. "Kwame brushes past me, running for the heart of the battle. He grips a dagger tight in his hands. Then he slashes open his palm. Blood magic. Horror settles into my bones. It’s like the world slows to a stop, stretching the seconds between this moment and the last Kwame will ever have. His blood glows with a white light, splashing as it hits the ground. In an instant the ivory light surrounds him, illuminating his dark skin like a god from above. When it reaches the top of his head, it seals his fate. A fire explodes from his skin. Smoldering embers rain from his body. Flames blaze around his form. The fire erupts from every limb, shooting out of his mouth, his arms, his legs. The blast towers meter...
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