Cad-atonic
Does anyone out there believe in all of that fate/chakra/karma stuff? I think I might be starting to.
As previously stated, bluntly and openly I might add, I am a cad. Not be self-admission mind you, but through outside-source labelling. If broken hearts be the currency of cad-ism, then rich i must be.
However, in all seriousness, like the conspicuously wealthy, it is truly an embarrassment of riches. I do not wear my conquests like a crown, unless that be some crown of blood and bramble, since in the long term I do greatest damage to myself.
Injury includes a life steeped in near-crippling depression, undulating and unclear sense of self worth, inabilty to bond (hence my pet insect. i barely feed it, let alone play with it), neediness at times, nonchalance at others. I do not have a love life, because love implies sacrifice, which I have never done.
As each relationship grinds to a teary train wreck of a halt, I pick my battered heart from the ditch and try to move on. However, anything lying in a ditch will undoubtedly get filthy, and over the years and through continuous abuse, the filth accumulates and a once raw and beautiful thing is caked in loathing and abuse.
And so I scrub, to no lasting avail. I hold it up to be warmed in the arms of another, only to experience the ultimate recoil and rejection. How to ease the pain? Fuck and forget, give nothing, ask nothing.
I Secretly hope for the glowing soul who sees past the grit and filth whilst I convey the callously pretentious, mock-confident arsehole to all else. Yeah, I'm the guy who fucked your girlfriend, broke up your marriage, etc...
Secretly hope for something that only happens in movies. I've been reduced to this. The women who truly get to know me won't get anywhere near my poison. they know the dark recesses I hide in.
I ain't all that bad. I'm looking to change. I'm looking for love, but have I fallen too far from grace? Time will tell.
As previously stated, bluntly and openly I might add, I am a cad. Not be self-admission mind you, but through outside-source labelling. If broken hearts be the currency of cad-ism, then rich i must be.
However, in all seriousness, like the conspicuously wealthy, it is truly an embarrassment of riches. I do not wear my conquests like a crown, unless that be some crown of blood and bramble, since in the long term I do greatest damage to myself.
Injury includes a life steeped in near-crippling depression, undulating and unclear sense of self worth, inabilty to bond (hence my pet insect. i barely feed it, let alone play with it), neediness at times, nonchalance at others. I do not have a love life, because love implies sacrifice, which I have never done.
As each relationship grinds to a teary train wreck of a halt, I pick my battered heart from the ditch and try to move on. However, anything lying in a ditch will undoubtedly get filthy, and over the years and through continuous abuse, the filth accumulates and a once raw and beautiful thing is caked in loathing and abuse.
And so I scrub, to no lasting avail. I hold it up to be warmed in the arms of another, only to experience the ultimate recoil and rejection. How to ease the pain? Fuck and forget, give nothing, ask nothing.
I Secretly hope for the glowing soul who sees past the grit and filth whilst I convey the callously pretentious, mock-confident arsehole to all else. Yeah, I'm the guy who fucked your girlfriend, broke up your marriage, etc...
Secretly hope for something that only happens in movies. I've been reduced to this. The women who truly get to know me won't get anywhere near my poison. they know the dark recesses I hide in.
I ain't all that bad. I'm looking to change. I'm looking for love, but have I fallen too far from grace? Time will tell.
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