subject: this carousel.
time: 12:58pm
music: i am not ok. i promise - my chemical romance.
mood: die analyst! die!
i wonder how many times
a mistake can be made
before
its turned into
the right thing.
skin shrivelling tighter with each word.
how many can you say
before you must repeat
repeat
repeat
n' repeat times three
you n' i have come to the end
of our dictionary again
its forced me to be simple
n' this is how i never was
a couple of syllables
one stroke of gloss
one button dialled
before i cut you off
forever...
i must say.
u sucessfully suceeded in not knowing me as this.
this ....always the instable girl
i wander around my room
thinking, when did my walls start peeling?
i dont spend my time thinking better
like when i say forever
why does it always mean
never?
******
"epistemology: the branch of philosophy tt studies how we know what we know" i get lost inside my mind sometimes. it is hard to find the way out, that much i can tell you. there are so many strange paths of thoughts that do not really lead anywhere, and others evidently not finished yet. then, there are the others tt winds hither and thither, up and down, in spirals and loops, in the great maze that my mind is. if not for life; which happens quite frequently, it is quite nice to escape the reality and delve into the inner self sometimes. of late, i've become more n' more the master at being able to differentiate the lines; between life n' surreality. i do not want to become a slave of dreams, imaginations and surreality. funny how the mind works. this complex thing that either makes or breaks us. -shrugs-
one of rene descartes' famous philosophies was "cognito ergo sum"; which in translation means "i think. therefore i am". i do not know why i feel such. last evening, after i stepped out of the showers n' caught a glimpse at my post-shower self in the misted bathroom mirror, i cannot help but question my purposes now. as of now-NOW. i have just lived through n' am at the end of an amass of 15 yrs of unbroken education life n' now tt i {{{almost}}} no longer have assignments due dates to chase, hollies to endure to, exams to headcase about, parties to highlight with a big red circles on my calender n' social events to look forward to meeting up old friends with, it seems as if i have completely lost interest in living life. there really is nothing pushing me to work at living; except for, for the purpose of living. no. i am not suicidal. im not gona slash my wrists n' bleed myself to death; i get erked out by gory whatnots anyways. neither am i gona jump from the highest building my insane mind can think of, cos when i die, i wanna die beautiful {{{as opposed to mashed up into 10,000 bits}}}. i am not lost. i know exactly what my options are. i just dont know which to choose. i am not empty. yes. i had lost "me" before but now i've found her back again. HOWEVER, damnation.. to hell n' back, i am trapped. n' like a pendulumn in a crystal box, i'm swinging back n' forth from the "adult-real-career-world" to the "teenage-aimless-hangout-in-town" world. mann.. it sucks so hard! n' truth be told, i'm sick of it all. mama in her monotonous voice only has this to say: "its cos you're twenty". im only twenty? n' already ive lost my zest of life?? impossible.
then, there's my love life. non-existing. but still, the amt of self-assessments i've been conducting, it may as well be "up n' running"; as opposed to its very-dead status now. but i just dont want what i had in the past cos i now, vehemently believe tt falling in love is not about long convos on the phone that stretch from sunset to sunrise. falling in love is not about the sweet-nothings sms'. they're but .. nothing? falling in love is not about taking long walks along the beach, fingers entwined together, sand getting caught between the toes. falling in love is not about being mates for days, weeks, months or even years - the longer the more substantial the prove tt its real love {{BULLshitttee!!!}}}. so. hey knight in shinning armour! prove me wrong n' beg my theories to differ cos i am killing the "romantist" in me n' resurrecting the skeptic; tt love can be choosen. love is not spontaneous but starts off in our pathetic human humble minds. tsk tsk. pathetic laaa.. tt REAL love is when you're screaming at ea other about which sch is best for ur first child. REAL love is when u throw him out of the bedroom to sleep on the couch because he chose to go back for dinner at his mum's instead of straight home, hence also insulting your ability OR disability to cook something decent. REAL love is when you're 80yrs old, scrambling for ur teeth on ur front porch while ur significant other tsk, shakes his head in oblivion, doesnt help u, n' contd reading the sports section INSTEAD. tt is REAL love. as for all those hang-on-the-phone-pick-up-from-sch-grinning-frm-ear-to-ear-at-his-i-miss-u-already msgs??? wait till u get married, then it'll start. not tt ive been there. but i certainly would rather live life than to mask myself with oblivion. n' altho to contd breathing in this world, one has to really matter-of-fact-ly speaking be a complete bitch, i really hate being pretentious. -sighs*
******
here i am at the end of a world
i dont know how i got here
but here i am at the end of a world
im lost but not your girl
feeling tipsy
drunk on pain
feeling absolutely
non-sane
feeling like
a carousel
turning circles
straight to hell
here i am at the end of a world
i dont know how to live here
but here i am at the end of a world
a lost n' lonely girl.
