What is the point of it?
I tried finding these answers myself, but never once came close. Does love even exist? In these times it's really hard to know. I once knew a person who thought they were in complete love, fallen so far down that they couldn't get up. And they loved it. So I thought to myself, how could anyone love that feeling? Being held down by some unstoppable and uncontrollable force? Or is that even what it felt like at all?
To me: love looked like it felt like a ball of yarn. Yes, that's right. Yarn. Yarn being chased by a fat ass grey and black, annoying ass Tabby that doesn't know right from left. Sure my feelings on this topic seem a bit unconventional, maybe even abstract and out there; but they say exactly how I feel about love. It's bullshit, like a funeral.
