time: 8:59pm
music: say it isnt so - gareth gates
mood: melancholy.
today.
i am not thinking
i will give this sorry excuse of a heart to you,
n' i promise i will run twice fast,
i fear the different spectrums would sprout wings
n' wld brush brutally past my face
the future is already a beautiful disaster.
much like when i muse about love over cups of coffee
in sunny dewy mornings.
when i'll (still) wonder what you
are not thinking.
is there any way to describe this?
at night, with a mouthful of stars
but, i will swallow them back,
one by one by one.
your celestial streams,
the starseeds of my past.
**
i threw away (some of) my diaries.
it was sad. i only remember this line i wrote:
"to return to one's diary is like returning to one's own vomit"
i feel like throwing up. i feel like revealing so much more. but i cannot.
sometimes i wish i could just swim in the spectrum of light or colors, swirl and slosh in the technicolor parallel dimension and see RGB in abundance.
