subject: into your icy blues.
time: 11:37pm
music: beautiful disaster - kelly clarkson.
mood: feminist-ish

I feel a stab
much too much like it felt nice
screaming sharp theories
my empty legs dashed off
then, the sparks
that faulted my wires
n' in one second,
I was gone .. forever.

"It is my job as a writer to re-write love", Sting.
Sometimes, I am caught in a limbo, between wanting everyone to give up on me so I can fully justify giving up on myself, and wanting SO much attention tt I am forced to go on. Most of the time, I cannot differentiate between the two, and I fall into an apathetic state of paralysis and give up on these seemingly futile efforts to appear normal. I SHOULD just embrace me; abnormal or not. (i think the former but what gives?). but "embracing" would be oh-so-boring.

I even fall for those stupid lines. so now, i HATE you. SHUT UP!
I feel a void. And at first I thought it really was because we ended..
Like u know, tt saying: "I'm nothing without you in my life" --cliche but still..This empty space I have saved up, needs filling so life don't seem too long a journey of pretense. And it's not just any ordinary feeling. Rather, a feeling that awakens, drives, directs my once-stagnant senses, where colors spin in myriad; sharp n' lucid, n' of razorblade lucidity. I wanna spin in these exquisite colours to suddenly tear - the colors! they are too bright, too alive or crying. - much like those feelings I felt each time I fall in love.

Yet, sometimes, I feel this void to be...
too full. to the brim even. overflowing sometimes.
"why is it such?", this i wonder ..
maybe? just maybe..
Atypical over-thinking, overdwelling n' over-feeling,
overwhelmed with stranger emotions no one knows,
am I in a song?
am I living it?
am I pronouncing these words that spill so many different truths?
Am I sinking or did I just learn to breathe -
Sometimes, I forget which reality I am living in;
Mine or yours or ours or this?

Usually, these thoughts go somewhere..
It is the cliches that ruin us. Predictions should be left as they are, as forecasts. Outcomes are a separate issue. We keep mixing them up, ruined chances. Coulds, woulds, shoulds - "please draw lines where applicable". Some things are meant to be universal, like understanding. No games, no tests, no bunnies out of hats. We may be living illusions but that does not make us magicians. Out of our hats should come truths and morning coffee and unlimited coupons for free hugs and kisses. No buts - we have enough to make into papier-mache and construct hearts held together by glue. We hold them in our hands, fake hearts in fists.

The rain washes us away.
The rain washes everything away,
sins and mistakes eventually become our fading dreams.
The past we have to forget.
Forget the past.

Forget it like it dont matter.

save me not
from the residue of..
the corpses of our days unlaid
come back to haunt
come back to haunt
of tt u do. but u dont.
her kiss could be my million years
her life could be my breath
she sleeps just for the sake of feeling.

such tt life could very well be her death...