my ode to the internet

anonymous asked:

What do you think about cancers?

I’ll give you an example…Kafka could contradict himself 129374924932 times per short story // novel // diary entry // letter and I’d still understand him. It’s pure understanding, really. I understand all of him and it’s not even because of the degree of relatability – I just sort of naturally embrace whatever he was about. Because I feel him too well. I love most Cancers, yeah…I just hate to argue with them because it gets chaotic and unnecessary – but somehow it’s still fun? They unburden me, also. Most gracefully. Because they empathize without knowing that they’re doing precisely that. And they’re never fake when it comes to standing up for the ones they love, ever. I think to love a Cancer is probably one of the most cruelly subjective processes one has to undergo because to love them means usually to know them (wordlessly and very poignantly) – and also…to fully embrace them…one has to love them exclusively and even “against” logic. I like that because it involves effortlessness, devotion but also allowing them to captivate you when they do. And they can. And they do. They’re pretty amazing when they let loose. (This turned itself into a small ode to my dad but ♡ Plus the internet needs to leave them baby crabs alone – I’m sick of Cancer hate on here? I’ve been turning a blind eye on it for the past few months but all I have to say is: universe…wake up and take a hint.)