A moment of weakness; A moment of wanting you back.

Please take it back,

Take it all away,

Tell me we have never been,

And we can never be.

Don’t take me apart

For someone else to figure out.

Love yourself more

And just kick me out of your sight

Allow me to hate the idea of you and I,

As I’m confused why there is no fucking us.


I don’t think I understand love

the way I should.

I mean,

I understand the whole passionate feeling;

been there, done that,

but I’m mostly talking about

how love can get out of control,

out of your control;

doing reckless things unintentionally,

then realising how shameless you may look,

spilling words that leave you embarrassed and heated up,

hiding more important words,

words that need to be said, but you’re too conscious of the situation.

Okay, I guess I do understand the main concepts.

Concepts driven by the heart, solely.

But it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that,

an experience that changed the way I see love,

changed the way I act when it comes to such feelings.

All because I’ve made a promise to myself;

I promised I’d never love again without consulting my brain,

that I’d never trust my heart because it can be easily deceived.

That if I suspected love has come for me again,

then I’d think hard if it was love for the person

or respect

or love for the idea of having someone there

or boredom.

And if it was love, then I’d confess.

If it’s not mutual, then accept friendship – assuming the other party still wants to be friends –

If it’s not mutual and they slip away, then so be it.

If they reconnect, then connect back.

Love has become a logical equation,

with remnants of intense hidden feelings of disappointment, relief, satisfaction, and ongoing attachment.

Nonsense (1)

This is insane. Nothing is working. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never been so unstable and out of control. Goddamn it, get a grip of yourself! I was drifting already two years ago, and I thought I’ve reached a whole new level last year, but this.. this is different. I’m sleeping in and I can’t afford to sleep. I’m watching ANYTHING just so I can forget my other responsibilities. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG! It’s driving me insane. I’m taking death too seriously. I shouldn’t be taking death seriously; I don’t want to face whatever comes after death. FOR FUCK’S SAKE WHEN DID I EVER GET SO RIDICULOUS AND PATHETIC FUUUUUCKKK!!! I want to scream. I want to scream all the time. I don’t even get mad these days. I can’t be bothered to even scold. I just suck up a stupid laugh and curse as if I’m joking and leave the room to avoid any conversation. This is worse than a painful breakup. Worse than a tragic romance. Worse than a nightmare where your mom discovers your darkest secret. This feeling is way worse. I feel like I’m drinking acid all the time. I don’t feel like eating anymore, but I eat because that’s my routine. I feel sick most of the time when I try to eat, but I manage to shove that acid back down and sleep it off. It takes 2 hours and a half for me to sleep. It takes 12 hours for me to wake up. It takes the rest of the day to regret that i WASTED TIME AND DID NOT STUDY SHIT!

I feel like dissecting myself and burying my parts by myself. I don’t want to even burden anyone with my worthless body. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling this way. I hate crying. I despise it. But it’s the one thing I want to do lately. I’m not even doing it right. I can’t cry when I want to. I can’t shed a decent tear to get all this stress away. It only comes when it pleases and stops before I’m actually relieved. I’m starting to think that “Crying” is alive and has a mind of its own. Selfish bastard. Doing whatever it wants and taking my body as shelter. Here I go again. blaming anyone but myself.

Same battle, just a different day.

A year and a half ago,

They said everything will be alright.

It’s been a year and a half already,

And I’m anything but alright.

A stroke on the back

And a pat on the head

And a sentence full of lies; Everything will be okay,

Along with the last word “Eventually”,

Not telling you what the definition of “Eventually” is,

Or how long it takes for “Eventually” to come.

Or are “Eventually” and I not meant to meet.

So I learnt not to say that lie, which I thought was the truth,

I learnt not to say it to anyone.

It gives off a false hope.

Too much hope.

Hope that not everyone can handle,

including me,

Not for a pessimist like me.

Now let’s re-live the situation;

Where I tell you everything that has been bothering me,

Where I tell you I hate living because I’ve lost the will to live.

Then let’s skip the part where you judge me for being so negative,

Where you attempt to understand me and actually try to tell me that you do,

But maybe you refrain from stating another lie.

Then let’s skip the part where you decide that you could make Life seem so magical,

That there’s so much more in Life, and that I need to commit to it so it can show me how Grand reality can be if I give it another “Real” chance.

Let’s get to the part where you state your last words,

Will you still tell me

that Everything’s gonna be alright?

And sometimes fate makes bargains with the devil

She told him what she was wearing that day,
A blue hat with white polka dots“, she said.
He searched for her in the festival.
Blue hat, white dots“, he repeated over and over again.
No one that day wore blue, nor did he see any white dots anywhere – if you exclude the dots he saw when he looked up straight at the sun that was held in the blue sky.
Was her blue different from my blue?
Or did she know she was my world, and the sky was what she referred to as her hat?
He never knew the answers regarding the girl who had her hat stolen and was sitting just behind him.