How many wounds can you convert to wisdom? How much pain to power can you permute and fathom? This is your story; rewrite how it’s written.
ALETHEIA LIOLATrust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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I compare myself to the leaves; dead, yet dancing in the breeze. Is it meant to hurt this much, falling from the trees?
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Trust assumes loyalty; and loyalty in the true sense of the word, the infinite, devoted kind of loyalty – that kind of loyalty doesn’t exist anymore.
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I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.
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A part of me died on the battlefield and a part of me was born. Vulnerability shed like peeling skin. Trust from my core was torn. I was caught between a disassembled heart and a young and fearful mind. I made peace with these pieces as I fell apart with the courage that I made mine.
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Our interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.
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My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.
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Contemplation; intrinsic. I am aligned perception. A, perfected plan. I am ferocious and tranquil. Rising. Pain to power. Alchemic. Energising
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Lies feel like nails on a chalk board scraping down the marror of my spine and truth feels like harmonious melodies gifted from the hands of the divine.
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He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.
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Truth as my armour. My sword as my pen. I’ll do what I will to prevail again. Shining so brightly so they shot me down. Did they not know how hard I would bounce?
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Endless consumption will not make you feel whole suffer, stained items are not good for the soul.
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Evil exists in the shadows of our world and I’m realizing that without the darkness there would be no light. We need both to stay alive.
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The only way I’ll ever choose to taste sweet love again, Is if he tells me, he loves my mind, and the way I use my pen.
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He dirtied my name with his dark and muddy lies. The earth he left grew flowers for the butterflies & now I thrive.
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I think we all long for someone we can be disgustingly honest with, and for them to love us anyway, and stay.
ALETHEIA LIOLA