Edzie Bee ♥

(via daizylove)

I’m physically in good shape, generally in good health. I fight the good fight, and take a pit-falls in stride. Lately, my pit-falls have been in a different arena——love. Although this is different from physical afflictions, failures in love tend to be more dangerous to waning hope. I believe that the heart is the core of our being. In medical terms, once the heart stops beating, you are pronounced dead. In metaphorical terms, once the heart dies the will to live can just as easily fade away. Take the number of suicides related to heartaches and losses in love—-there are plenty around us. Our beings are not only the physical shells that need to eat and breathe. Our spirits are as much as part of life as the crude outer coverings that we see. And although I’m physically okay, my heart and spirit is near death. 

Stretching my hope of love too thin is taxing my very existence. Taking risks in the arena where Cupid is the Alpha and the Omega is similar to running across a highway without looking left and right before crossing. And failure to realize the imminent danger can be as fatal. However, I did not run across the highway of love. I’ve stretched myself too thinly—-like a wee bit of butter trying to cover a whole loaf of bread. It’s similar to trying to live on bread and water for extended periods of time. The flesh is willing, but the spirit is weak.  Although the reward may be great, what comes  to mind is one stinging statement; is it worth it? 

Maybe it is, and maybe it’s not. Maybe I’ll die trying, or end up on the pedestal of victory. But how do I know when to stop? Like the compulsive gambler who keeps on betting until he ends up losing all he’s got, I’ve tendered the flame of hope for a long time now. And now the kindling for my fire is running low. But then again, what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger. But will I survive this?

Being a sentimental and optimistic can work both ways. I’m as stubborn as an ox, and this propelling me to keep that faith longer than most people would. But I’m still just human. And when these two aspects catch up, I’ll either be victorious, or utterly devastated. Optimism is a drug more dangerous that opium, cocaine, and heroin put together. optimism keeps us happy and content while leading us down the path of failure. It overcomes our hindsight and foresight of the dangers of life,and keeps us blindly moving in the direction that we choose to go —- whether it’s the right direction or not. And when the blinders are removed by the harsh reality of failure, we may never be able to make our way back to the blissful existence that we were once in.

I’ll take back the song Survivor. It goes: “And we search for truth, win or lose, in this we’re all the same. Where hope still burns eternal, we’re the keepers of the flame.” And my search for the truth continues. This just another twisted day in the tormented life. 

heartonaleash:

Carry you home

(via i-spill-kisses-with-love)

(via i-spill-kisses-with-love)

(via leilockheart)

leilockheart:

http://bitch-alert.tumblr.com

delightfulsmile:

This applies to guys too, ladies. I’ve come to realize that not all guys are assholes and some actually know how to use their brain and not their dick.

(Source: leilockheart, via sleepyreverie)

(via i-spill-kisses-with-love)

you’re the best thing that ever been mine.

(via i-spill-kisses-with-love)

Happy 8th Monthsary! :) Thank sa flowers!