A sense of dignity is essential to a sense of destiny. Without this support, fear of tragedy extorts us daily, often unconsciously. Then we take caution (and precaution) beyond rational bounds and common sense. Hence the birth of superstition.
I mourned for what I thought was our completion of each other. I mourned for our moral poverty and our perversion. I lamented our symbiotic synchronicity and our delicious heartburn disguised as desire. A little piece of my heart and soul left me that day, like a little piece of stiletto heel ...
Often there is a breakdown before a breakthrough. Like the little seed that doesn't know that it's going to be a mighty tree with its branches kissing the sky, you don't know what life has in stock for you in the future.
At a certain point, I realized I was in no way heading in any direction towards feeling any sense of self-love or deserving, and I got really fucking mad. Is this my fate that was laid out for me? Some kind of sentence I must serve? Should I just accept that this is the limitation of my ...