Treachery Against My Two Half Moon Spectacles

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 A twist of fate, something I haven't fully yet figured.

To harvest love, means to put it down slowly on the ground, let it mature to pick it up again. I guess that's why I haven't ever understood it yet. My love was always that of a sunflower, unreached, unfulfilling, hard to get and leave me standing alone in the dark by the end of the day. Yet the purest. But...

Fate sometimes has little funny tweaks to turn. And they say; what comes around, goes around. Observing this world through my blurry two half moon spectacles, I see treachery. We humans, cheat on this life with every second gave to us to breath, and I can no longer keep on living this way. My soul, if it will ever be damned and cursed, should at least have lived the beauty of love by now. I mean, 25 years counts no? If I die today, my biggest regret would be that I have not learned to be loved yet, I don't know what it means. I have been loved, and deeply. The problem is with between me and the Universe. But you see, I'm not writing this to show you how desperate I am. No, for the matter of fact, I'm content and happy. I'm writing this to tell whoever was blessed by the algorithm and reached this page, that the Wicca here, can feel you and she can assure you one thing: if you stop cheating on the Universe, the Universe will grant you a gift called love. It's for your fellow human cheaters, but for yourself. I invite you to look at yourself with my two half moon spectacles and observe your beauty. With all you ugliness, inside out, with your rotten thoughts and your black hearts, with your baggage of trauma, and your ugly music taste, you are human, start acting like one. 

Here's a song for you dear reader: 

Wejak Ya Helou, Faya Younane

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