white-lies-dark-truths

[white-lies-dark-truths]

(Je vais écrire se paragraphes en français, même si j’aimerais que les gens donne leur opinion et m’aide, j’aimerais plus le faire français. Je sais la plupart des gens utilise cela en anglais, alors peut-être qu’il aurait moins de monde intéressé).

Non, mais sérieusement est-ce les garçons peut-être moins gênant? Bon j’étais au parc et deux garçons un peu de mon âge bien m’approcher. Bien entendu ils sont toujours à l’âge quand il sont pas mature. Il commence à demander mon snap puis le snap de ma sœur. Je ne l’ai jamais vu de ma vie et tout d’un coup ils sais que j’ai une sœur et ou mes parents travaille. Je sais que c’est pas vraiment surprenant que a cette âge ils font des bêtises et bien entendu le fesait la mâture. Je voulais juste sortir et me balancer avec le vent puis ils sont venus. J’ai jamais détesté a parler avec des inconnus et même parfois je suis contente. Et je ne suis pas fâché de leur avoir parlé, je suis même plutôt content qu’ils veulent me par. Tristement je crois que je crève de l’attention surtouts celle du sex opposé, qui est très dangereux pour mon âge et plutôt humiliant. Ma mère a toujours été une femme très respectée, c’est parce qu’elle ne prend pas la moindre idée des autres et ne cherche pas l’acceptation des garçons. Et contrairement, moi je suis l’opposé dans pour la première fois un homme m’a harassement dans la rue, je me sentais actuellement plutôt bien.

Parfois je suis tellement dessus de moi même. Parce que si j’ai juste un peu de dignité, je n’accepterai pas cela. Une example c’est quand un garçon me fait du mal, me ridicules et me pousse , je finis toujours à revenir vers lui, pas parce qu’il est beau ou intelligent. Mais parce que j’ai jamais eu de l’attention provenant des garçons. J’ai une très bonne relation avec les filles , mais quand ça se tourne au garçon je deviens fou.

Je suis vraiment tanné de la manière dont je suis et aussi comment je suis contente d’avoir de l’attention même si c’est négatif. Bon je ne sais pas vraiment quoi faire et je ne suis pas vraiment ouverte à parler à quelqu’un, j’aimerais pas ruiner la journée de quelqu’un avec mes bizarres expériences. Au moins dans le Park, j’étais capable de sortir de cette situation et de rentrer chez moi et de ne pas les entendre parler. Je suis plus tôt fière que cette fois je ne me suis pas laissé faire et rester planqué a les écouter. Je suis très fière de moi, si je continue comme ça, peut-être je changerai pour le mieux.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

Feel the difference.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

I will never apologize for overthinking but only for having thought too little.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

I will never apologize for overthinking but only for having thought too little.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

" I won’t fight for love if you won’t meet me halfway"

-Olivia Rodrigo (All I want)

[white-lies-dark-truths]

All I want is love that lasts, is that too much to ask? Is there something wrong with me?

All I have is myself at the end of the day, but shouldn’t that be enough for me?

All I have is myself at the end of the day and all I want is for that to be okay.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

That feeling when you just gave your man head but didn’t brush you teeth and now you're stuck behind a mask breathing dick breath all day.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

When you plunge your mouth in someone else’s mouth, someone you love, it’s like plunging into cold water, the moment you dive in the sea. You jump in, it hits you like a 1030 volts electric force, not a shock, a little force. That force is refreshing, empowering,

Powerful. You feel like a superhero. Your tongues start intertwining leaving you in a hypnotic state. You are hypnotized by the force of desire. A force that is like the current of the sea. You can’t control it. It makes you powerful, you grab the neck and run your hands everywhere you want. Why? Because you want it all. Not just the kiss. You want the soul. The feeling of the soul of the other person is more than just the kiss. It’s the body, the language that is international. A language that everyone speaks fluently. Fluent as the way the communication between these two bodies intertwine with just one kiss

#kiss #hot #love #ocean #sea #waves #passion #writing #writer #poems #soul #force #men #woman #hypnosis #run #electricity #sexual #tension

[white-lies-dark-truths]

Porcelain Dreamin

[white-lies-dark-truths]

“I think im better off lonely, I think you don’t even know me”

— Ian Dior ~Needed~

[white-lies-dark-truths]

“I was more than you needed”

— Ian Dior

[white-lies-dark-truths]

You swallowed me whole and emptied my soul

[white-lies-dark-truths]

Dear friend, I write to you not as a friend nor a guide to you but rather as a stranger. I want to write to you as though I know nothing of you, all I write to you today is what I know of me. Having been a girl who has lost her first love many years ago, I write to light to you my journey, my story, my insight but also my inspiration, my courage and my thrive. I don’t want to make this about me, so I will detach myself from this story by saying one thing; this is not my story and it is not about me.

His eyes, a hazelnut green, a dark featured boy. Just a boy. Not a man yet nor a kid anymore. Just a tall figure with dashing hair. All of which peaked my interest. Of course, how could it not? Being just exactly my kind of boy.

Oh did he dance, he moved so precisely, with every being of his body, it was his passion. Oh did he love his passion. He loved his moves, always had nice shoes. Sometimes he would dance for me too. This boy had drive, desire, ambition, but most of all, he was fond of someone like.. me.

This boy more than just liked me, he knew how to make me feel loved, he knew how to dance his way around my heart, knew every little thing that made me jump, scare, run, scream, laugh, cry. And he did it anyways. Because he knew how, and it became, yet again, a passion for him. A passion of the different kind. The kind that you don’t leave behind.

You see this boy grow passionate of my presence as I grew fonder of his own. He taught me how to dance, showed me how to play and most of all, he allowed me to fall into his arms, his bed, his intimacy. And there I was. I was consumed.

So consumed. He was my single passion, my only precious discovery, to forever be my first great treasure. Oh was it ever luck to be the passion of a boy like this. I picture a future. I picture our memories on the fridge, our matching slippers to wear around the house. I made my own paperbook in my head, heart, schoolbooks, journals, mimd, body, spirit. I made him alive in my life. He was it all for me.

Oh did this boy love his passions, he loved his whole world. So much. So much. So much. He loved his world and all that made him strong, handsome, intelligent. He loved all that made him. He was in love with himself. Oh what a beautiful thing I thought. Silly boy, being a boy, becoming a man, loving his world and all that came with it.

This boy had so much in his world. Maybe too much for just a boy, he need be a man. But how can he be a man when he is without escape? He saw his father a man, his father the big man. The strong man. The powerful man. The one that decides. The one that controls. The one that has all that it takes to battle the world that he loves to be in. Because his world loves him so dear. But this boy is just a boy. Acting like a man.

His eyes felt like they were turning grey, for the little times I get to look back in them. I saw this boy frustrate about me, anger about me, dissolve about me. He would swallow me whole, empty my soul, just to see what is left of a passion he outgrew. Outgrew wanting some new.

Oh did I try, I would be that new. I would be for you. I would just do. I do. I do. I do. I don’t.

But oh I was never going to abandon, all that I vision, all that I see, all the beauty in we, all the songs that we... but I did.

I gave up on we.

I didn’t want to see.

His passion was no longer me.

He had passioned another she.

But they are no better than we.

She don’t see what I see.

I have to let that be.

But how can I let it be?

Can’t help feeling so unfree.

Trapped and chained to he.

How can this be?

Maybe...

Is it because of me?

I am not she.

Can I ever be?

Can somebody help me?

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

No.

Not really.

I can’t be.

I don’t want to be.

I am all me.

It is not for he.

Nor for she.

It is for me.

Only.

So.

Who am I going to be?

[white-lies-dark-truths]

Tip of the day: put some fruit roll up on your man’s dick before you suck it.

Have fun ladies, enjoy.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

Love only becomes real once it is equally reciprocated

If you aren’t receiving love the way you give it, is it really love?

Question yourself.

[white-lies-dark-truths]

[white-lies-dark-truths]