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Showing posts from August, 2020

Twelve signs that you are being an arsehole

  There are a shocking amount of arseholes in the world. And at some time or other, all of us have been one. We all have our moments of being temporary arseholes. That's okay. The problem is the permanent arseholes who go out of their way to make your life miserable and at times unbearable. And they never show any remorse or apologise. If you do get an apology from them, it is so half-hearted and filled with excuses that you're not sure if they are apologising, or are they blaming you for the apology or blaming you what they are apologising for. Sounds confusing? If you want to live life in a permanently confused state, start hanging out with a permanent arsehole. There are different degrees of arseholism. But these are the twelve signs that you are behaving like an arsehole  1. You enjoy crushing people's dreams Are you the one who's quick to tell people that they will never amount to anything and that they will never achieve their dreams? Or you make fun of anyone who

When love becomes your story

  My body was violated and abused. My soul was destroyed. My heart was ripped out. And all that was left for many years was an empty shell with pain, anger and anguish where my heart was supposed to be. I was broken. I was lost. I was bitter. And I was angry. But that is not my story. That is not who I am. I walked around with shame for too many years, shame that this terrible thing happened to me, ashamed of this stain that was part of my soul and contaminated my heart and my dreams; this shame that whispered in vicious cold harsh words that I had no right to demand anything from life, that I had no right to live; this shame that took over the innermost parts of my being and made itself comfortable in my thoughts, and in the process it kicked out everything that would’ve made me happy or would’ve brought me peace. I took shame in and it held it me hostage for many years. I was its prisoner, allowing it to stop me from being who I truly am. Who was I to want more? How dared I dream to