Deep Shit - Blog Posts
Please share your secret to being so fucking confident! Like, I’m being criticized on MY blog for the shit I not make or post, just what I reblog- slurs hurt-
Things are gonna get real deep now my love. I could say: haters are losers - and as a winner, I'm busy in a capacity they couldn't even fathom. So I simply do not have enough time in a day to give losers a thought. I could also say: haters are unhappy people with a tragic lives. It sounds like a cliché. But think about it, if you are a well-balanced individual, happy, safe, calm, collected, with a decently put together life and a clearly constructed short-term and long-term purpose/meaning... you won't be going around doing any hating. You simply won't. It's not even in the frame of your consciousness; you won't even be able to access the mere idea of hating on others as a possible task/behaviour to engage yourself with. Which means that a hater must live at the very opposite realm of that. And that must be awful. I genuinly feel sorry for people in this amount of distress - but simultaneously, I have zero empathy for their destructive ways of coping with it. I could also say: diet discipline. The same way your body will evolve and take shape based on what you feed it and what activities you choose to engage it in - your mind will do the same. Feed it with mush and you're gonna turn your mind into mush. I could also say: priorities. 1 minute spent on a hater is 1 less minute spent on a lover. Time is finite. It's your most valuable asset and you get to spend it however you want! With 2 big caveats; you can't take it back and you can't make more of it. With that knowledge at the immediate forefront of your mind, it becomes very obvious why you shouldn't engage with hate. Also, if you'd actually make a list of things that are more important to deal with than your haters, you'd end up with an infinitely long list. Really, clearing the filter of your washing machine is probably 80.000x more important than replying to a mean comment. The few times I actively do choose to engage with a hateful comment, it is to educate people in the "surroundings" by pointing out why this is either; a problematic way to conduct yourself, a failure in logics/reasoning or a generally poor behaviour you should strive to avoid for yourself. Bc I feel it is of value and importance to do our best to mitigate "up and coming" abusers and help steer potential trainwrecks back on track. I could say all of these things. Or I could simply just say idgaf. And all of them would be true.
“what’s it like?”
oikawa turns to you at the sound of your question, “what’s what like?”
“what’s it like being in love?”
the boy quirks a brow, “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” you pause, shuffling from your place on the couch to face him. “what’s it like to give your all to a person? to have someone that loves you with all their being? what’s it like to have a bond and a connection that seems as if it would never break? or to have a person who’s poured their heart and soul into you? who would do anything to see you happy and make you feel loved?” you pause, meeting the boy’s gaze realizing you’ve been basically asking him the same question for the past three minutes. “i mean if you know about it, i know you’ve had your fair share of relationships.”
he bit back a chuckle at how small your voice became, “that’s a tough question for me to answer.”
“but you’re more experienced than i am with it,” you reason.
“why because i’ve been in more relationships?”
”no because of the fangirls.”
and he laughs, “that’s adoration,” he notes. “adoration and love, while easily confused, are two different things.”
”alright then,” you wave off. “then tell me,” his gaze softens as he shuffles to face you. “what’s love like?”
“it’s,” he pauses, “it’s a feeling that you can’t really find anywhere else.”
“what do you mean?”
there’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, something that makes oikawa smile. contrary to you, his long time best friend, oikawa’s been in his fair share of relationships. some were long, others short flings, some serious ones, and then others that left just as fast as they came. he had watched you for years pine over other people wishing like the hopeless romantic that you are that you’d finally get your chance in love. he pauses for a moment before looking back at you. “do you know that moment where you have a puzzle and there’s only one piece missing?”
“okay,” you nod.
“and it turns out the puzzle piece fell on the floor, so you pick it up and then complete the puzzle.”
your brows knit in confusion, “that’s an odd scenario to compare love to.”
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