“Maybe the line between self respect and ego is called sanity.”

You surrender to instantaneous instincts then mourn over becoming a slave.

At times this thought makes me arid, if the vibe was mutual, why is this reminiscence one sided.

Don’t tell me to not daydream. That’s the only place where I live and don’t think.

What more is loneliness if not the longing to be understood? The longing to be understood by the self.

Look at us. Always choosing devastation followed enlightenment over spoon fed lessons.

Are disappointing patterns just patterns only? Or are they a mockery of your stupidity?

You hypnotize yourself with memories that were meant to be forgotten, then wonder why destiny never favors you.

Because I have seen a rare kind of peace in the eyes of loners. Because I have heard whispers of battles of the accompanied.

Transient emptiness over irreparable brokenness.

Falling for superficial costs depth its entire existence.

Is it a loss that is still present? Or a presence that seems to be lost?

How is it that the colors don’t seem colorful anymore? How is it that the child in me wants to live yet keeps dying more and more?

And maybe at the end, it’s not about the loss or victory but the moments in which, we put all the efforts into something.

Insincerity masked as maturity is toxicity.

Not all homes are meant to be lived in. Some are meant to be abandoned. Some burnt.

Being sad means being elite for sad can’t be those who struggle to make the two ends meet.

The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

Mirrors should think longer before they reflect.

Year by year, the monkey’s mask reveals the monkey.

I’ve always preferred mythology to history. History is truth that becomes an illusion. Mythology is an illusion that becomes reality.

One of the things that has helped me as much as any other is not how long I am going to live, but how much I can do while living.

Our ability to receive love is a mirror of our own self worth. Until we learn to receive love with an open heart, we’re limited to how deep our relationships can go.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.

Maturity in relationship is knowing that our partners do not belong to us.