I don’t believe there are good humans; I think we are all innately evil. I don’t believe in charity, I think it’s done for self-exultation. It makes you feel good about yourself, doesn’t it? I don’t believe there’s true altruism. I don’t believe you can be happy forever. I don’t believe there’s much hope for us; I think its downhill from here.
But I gotta believe in something?
I believe that even children can cause the greatest harm. I believe in the wickedness of man. I believe we only do to receive. I believe in karma – in cause and effect.
I believe in me. No, not my depraved heart, not my vanity, not my talent that could be a fluke. I believe in the blood in my veins, in the beat of my heart and the counsel of my gut.
Now, all three have conspired to contradict me. The selfish me that believes a person can exist alone. No giving of false hope. No receiving of temporary gratification.
Blood running hot, pounding in my head. That’s the effect of your cause. The cause is you. The curse is you. My body telling me to believe you have the power to make me feel. I don’t want to feel, dammit! All things end. We are doomed. Why give in to ‘feelings’ when they are bound to expire? To dissolve, fizzle out? Or cause irreparable harm?
You’re bad for business. That’s what my heart tells me. It makes it loud via the palpitations. Strong and brash and irregular. Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Squeeze. Release. Bad for business, bad for health. And no, I do not want to be unhealthy. I want to be in control of my body, my emotions, my bloody heart!
And my gut? My gut tells me to flee. To fling my sandals in the air and run. Run to the mountains; find a cave and spend my days hiding. Because anything that can upturn my balanced life so calmly can destroy it with a breath.
So, no. Love isn’t welcome here. I’m going to fight you. Fight this. Fight me. This feels like the effect of a pesky fly amplified a million times. This feels like a structurally sound house giving way around me. This feels like war. Like, the apocalypse. You’re the antichrist.
You’re my antichrist.
Grudgingly yours,
Betty.
—(@UberBetty)
Return Mail (Bonus Post: Dear Love)
Return Mail (El Muerte Amor by @TTXIII)
Return Mail (Li’l Thing by @Anniefertiti)
Return Mail (I Knew by @TheToolsman)
Return Mail (Scrape-Scrape-Scrape by @JCphoenixx)
Return Mail (Hold My Hand by @ritzyliciousme)
Return Mail (This Place by @Ms_Dania)
Return Mail (Yours Imperfectly by @The_Daywalker)
Return Mail (Boy Scout by @ xoAFRO)
Return Mail (Happy Ending by @Cuntosaur)
D A N I A 
Totts get this!
Love makes one weak. >_<
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Fight it!!!!!! Fight!!!!
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Sharap dia!
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What Kofo said…
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Lovely!
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Tragic.
Albeit, that’s where the beauty lies.
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I totally felt this one.
Inner battles……. Knowing you are falling but refusing to fall.
Scared that someone other than you can disrupt your balance…….your perfect little world.
Control freaks……..we have to control everything including our feelings.
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-____-
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Story for tortoise.
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Ha! Like one can fight love. U can live in denial tho. Nuthn other than that. Good luck tryn. Lol.
Hain @ ‘ure my antichrist’. Ok now.
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the picture ties it up neatly! I Lurve!!!!!!!
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“This feels like war. Like, the apocalypse.”
I know right? The Love Death will follow shortly.
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“You are my antichrist”
I so know this feeling. Emotions sucks tbh
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Have a cookie bro………….and some tissue
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“You’re bad for business”.
Yep. That’s it.
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Slain!
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I haven’t read you in a while. This is brilliant,, as always.
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I appreciate reading through your site. Thanks! http://bit.ly/2f0xJ92
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