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| I realise I don't even bother to post here anymore.
:( I'm sorry.
I'm most probably am going to relink, so yes.
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| There's a problem with me. But with me, there's always problems. I realise too little too long; too much too little, all disjointed by your reasoning and trying to rationalise the weight that you impounded onto me within a split second. And I am such an idiot, because I will always agree with what you say. With you, it's always oozing with confidence, and I can't speak the truth face to face, because you still remain in my words today, tomorrow and possibly, forever.
There is no trueness truer than that, and to the words you remind me when I talk to you. We carry on, but the words remain.
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| I've run out of things to say lately.
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| I lack most assiduities in my actions;
You, effervescent with perfection,
It is clear cut and frank,
Of course we knew (knew it all along)
This is about to collapse
This apocalypse, this Armageddon,
Will fall upon us, today tonight;
This is, us in our very own hands.
When you tried to speak and no words came,
It’s before too long that the world swallow you,
So when the wind bites at your face,
you no longer realise who you are.
This is not the end,
This is not tragic, this is not frightful,
And it know no bounds,
But it gets to you sooner than you know.
We’ve had our casualties long ago,
When we were lost sheep finding missing herds,
Before reality surpass our imaginations
Before our bubbles burst.
This is about holding on and letting go,
This is the line between what we seek,
This is both euphoric and morbid,
This is, us. | | |
| I'm just about the verge of tears.
It's because you are so much more better, I can't stand the sight of myself. My existence is something merely invisible, untouchable, intangible. I can only do so much, and yet I don't. I don't know what more I can do because you are in so many ways so much braver and I fall behind you.
I want to cry every time I see you, and to question myself over and over pushing myself to the edge and trying to understand the reason I am just not feeling well, or even happy at the least.
I don't know.
I hate myself because I will never know and because I will never dare to go that far, to push my limit, and the find out the truth I have kept somewhere within me. Because I am that scared, and I spend too much time thinking about this, and simply cannot comprehend the meaning behind all this.
And I want to, so much, to cry every single time when I see someone else doing something better at something I simply cannot do, that I can't even begin to think about, that I am so incapable of handling, and I just feel stranded.
Hold me close and whisper words of comfort.
Words you never will say.
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