ME. (Part 1)
Loveless.
Spineless, passionless. Uneven, unstable, unacquired.
All the activism couldn't possibly outrun the passivity. The
void of emptiness is the highest level of loneliness that makes the one
suffering love the rendezvous of their own darkness. And the triumph is greater
than elsewhere. No matter how persuasive innocence - ever so attracting yet too
deceiving - one can never elope the endeavours of solitude. It is fascinating to
read their eyes showing frustrations towards their own countless efforts to
gain such a blessing. By one's lonesome, it is understandable for them to
comprehend their solitary to be another's greatest exploit and their own lowest
remorse.
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