“All I hear is raindrops,”

Just when you think you’ve defeated them –

Hello, demons. Have you come to haunt and devour me again?


“Maybe I’m just dreaming out loud,”


Today marked four years since you left, and there is so much that I want to tell you about all that’s happened since and that I wish I could tell you, like the old days when I’d pop over for a visit just to sit down with you for an hour or two and tell you how my days were, knowing that you were the one person in the world whom I could trust to tell everything. Even when your state of mind had faltered and you were living mostly in the past; it didn’t matter that sometimes you didn’t understand what I’d be talking about – just being able to sit with you, having your hand in mine, my head on your lap and making me feel as if I was safe, right there and then, was all that mattered.

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“Everybody’s wishing for no more mistakes”

I hate it when I’ve all these thoughts in my head that I need to get out but my laptop’s a goner and my speed of writing has dramatically slowed down since my high school years, so I end up just stuffing all these thoughts back in.

And yes, I’m aware that I could very well put my Blackberry to good use at this point (why the hell did I write all that above when I could’ve just…) but it’s not the same; I won’t feel as satisfied, and I’m anal like that.

And also – why do 98% of these pensive & mind-fucking moments always happen after 2am?

… Not cool.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

“I’ve got a thick tongue, brimming with the words that go unsung”

When did it become okay for us to constantly be at the mercy of everyone else? Constantly seeking approval, going out of your way to gain the affection of others, trying so hard to make yourself feel accepted by the bigger crowd instead of feeling comfortable in your own skin?

Why would we subject our own fragile selves to such insanity? Why does our social status matter so much? Why would we serve our own selves out on a silver platter for the bigger crowd to rip apart to the bone? Why do we intentionally make our own selves the victims of such unjust mental torture?

Why are we never content with what we already have and what we presently are?

… Why am I awake at this hour trying to find some kind of answer to all these questions, when I have to get up in 3 hours for work?

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.