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funny, i once knew someone who had, among other aliases, winter… if love made you feel warm, what was coldness?
coldness was the times they aren't there to feel it.
do finite things have a purpose?
of course.
genius shouldn't be tortured… i hate it when the only good people in this world hate themselves because they're not like the others. shouldn't it be a badge of honor? being above it all by virtue of never having been a part of any of it? thinking so deeply that you almost have the answers? just for them to slip away into the unyielding mists of time… unsurprising coming from a know-it-all, an outlier, a sadist, a nihilist, a misanthrope, a paragon. never saw me for what i was. looked at me like i was nothing… in a universe without a god, my only scripture. two parallel lines meet at the edge of the plane and thence diverge forevermore.
coldness was the color that those lines were drawn in.
if he felt alone, it wasn't for my lack of trying.
coldness was the background loneliness you both felt while smiling together.
but in retrospect, who would ever want to be kindred spirits with unhuman trash such as myself?
warmth is that person.
i am hardly the revolution, i am the past
warmth grabs you from the future, inwards.
, it is my destiny for the future to walk onwards without looking behind himself.
your destiny is whatever your heart knows.
whoever he is these days.
it doesn't have to matter.
in the end, love isn't warm after all. it's cold, like the ocean.
love is the careful balance of all temperatures, seasons, and feelings. i still am trying to decipher it too.