This is what hell is all about

The devil is not this horrible, deformed creature you think he is.

The devil is your logic disguised as rational thinking.
Trying to make you a servant of your logic, instead of the other way round, instead of you keeping your logic as a handy servant.

Trying to keep you in places, things, people, situations where your heart is empty and dead and safe in mediocrity , where your spirit is withering but your physical and rational self is thriving. That's where devil is and that's where your soul is dead. In your safe , flat logic.

God is where your heart is singing, even if by everyone's standards you 're there in the lowest of the lows. When logic starts shouting, you cant hear the singing of your soul. And you wither. And die inside. This is hell. And it all starts by paying heed more to the shouting than the singing.And then all kinds of physical and mental torture afflict your body ( disease, depression) trying to tell you that you're in your hell. That you forgot the singing. That you 've been whoring yourself to your rational mind and betrayed your heart's true calling.

Forget about safe.

Go where your feet tremble with joy and fear instead

This is what hell is all about

The devil is not this horrible, deformed creature you think he is.

The devil is your logic disguised as rational thinking.
Trying to make you a servant of your logic, instead of the other way round, instead of you keeping your logic as a handy servant.

Trying to keep you in places, things, people, situations where your heart is empty and dead and safe in mediocrity , where your spirit is withering but your physical and rational self is thriving. That's where devil is and that's where your soul is dead. In your safe , flat logic.

God is where your heart is singing, even if by everyone's standards you 're there in the lowest of the lows. When logic starts shouting, you cant hear the singing of your soul. And you wither. And die inside. This is hell. And it all starts by paying heed more to the shouting than the singing.And then all kinds of physical and mental torture afflict your body ( disease, depression) trying to tell you that you're in your hell. That you forgot the singing. That you 've been whoring yourself to your rational mind and betrayed your heart's true calling.

Forget about safe.

Go where your feet tremble with joy and fear instead

I am a woman who loves too much and I wear this proudly, as a badge of honour

I am a woman who loves too much.
And I wear this proudly, as a badge of honour.

When I give , I don't just give my all. I give of my flesh and blood, until I am depleted and run out of the last droplets of love. I am a heavy weight lover, or a marathon runner of love, if you will.

Recklessly adoring and vulnerable to the point of bleeding to emotional death–my heart is displayed wide open, for I not only trust love in the abstract, but I trust the one I love in action, deeming them worthy of my love specifically because they were chosen to be loved by me, not because they are either worthy or unworthy of it.

I lay my heart in front of their feet and even give them a sword to pierce it through, knowing fully well that sooner or later they will.

When I walk into a room, the love overflowing from my heart radiates out of me like a technicolor sun. Cats, dogs and little girls are drawn to me like iron shavings to a magnet, because the warmth of that love, the love of a woman that loves too much, soothes their insides. I walk wearing my love potential like a regal mantle, sweeping behind my back and men on the street compliment me on my looks, having no idea that it is the strength of that love that compels them.

My loving too much is my presence and my signature.

It is present when I pamper the one I love in bed, or when I sacrifice my last euro to feed a stray kitty.

I navigate through life posing for selfies or having lessons or writing blog posts, laying my soul bare ,purely because my heart tells me so.

I am dripping in love, weathered from the blows that life on the vulnerable side delivers to me all the time, weak and strong at the same time in the beauty of that love.

I am not afraid to tell you I love too much and am proud of it because I have done the work to be at home in that love.

I do not shrink to accommodate the love that is given to me ( which, since I am a marathon runner of love in action and most people are couch potatoes in comparison, is rarely up to par) , but burn bright to remind them by example, what is there to be afraid of?

I cherish each scar on my heart, each wound, each betrayed trust, each inch of my mercy. I walk with my head held high because I know only love can heal us all.

I show this world my tears and my laughter, unashamed.

I know better than to try and fix or heal the ones that cannot or wont love me back. I know that by healing my self worth and strengthening my love potential, I heal this world.

I am a woman who loves too much
and I wear this proudly, as a badge of honour.

I love fearlessly and sweetly and ferociously with all the might I can, for what good is living if we are not loving?

I am here to love and love I will.

I can taste bullshit from a mile away since I am freer and truer by choice and that gives me stronger insight into inauthenticity.
But I still choose to trust. With all my heart.

I do not keep my love in a cage that requires a transaction of any sort to be free.

I care and dare and hurt and love through my life.

I am a woman that loves too much — you will feel me when I walk into your life or your space