Imagine living in a world with absolutely no more light. The sun shrivled away as if a bankrupt God halted all electricity bill payments until further notice. The silent death of the star that once provided us daylight. There is no such thing as day. In America, every light in-between the New York City skyline to the furthest twinkle of an LA ( Read more... )

With an awkward sense of stubbornness, my continued grasp on my beliefs begin to manifest in themselves truth. I did that? There is now truth to a combination of words, if separated meaningless, but once articulated in a certain combination,,, a projection of truth. So is it true, truth can be assigned arbitrarily? Assigned to what? By whom? What ( Read more... )

We're revisiting, but we're also starting anew ( Read more... )

Why can I only seem to write of things that kill me? I can literally divide this journal into a perfectly proportional timeline of hearbreaks. Is that normal? Having entries to remember every stab at me? Or better yet, why is my only approach to counter-attack those blows with words? Is it weakness, or strength ( Read more... )

I am beginning to understand, first-hand, the gravity of ambivalence. The capacity of a scale has its' limits, as does everything else that can hold something. Like a person. It's a very natural equilibrium. A parent with a child, who pays less attention to him or her because of a second new-born kid. Or people who just have too much friends, ( Read more... )

I keep seeing you everywhere. And it almost... just almost kills me where I stand. So I've worked out many plans in secret. No one can know who I am, how I feel. I emulate your discretion in every way. The only difference is your secrets whom you enslave. You put your hand over their mouths and you threaten them with decieving reprimand, and lock ( Read more... )

Quest failed. Cycle ended ( Read more... )

With animosity, I return. I search for hidden remarks in your notes and journal. For the most part I don't find anything. So I leave only to return again.
This cycle is what I like to call: The perpetual cycle of a poor-driven infatuation's inevitable demise, only to be revived (by definition of a cycle) 
Broken down and spelled out for the slow-to- ( Read more... )

So... love love love ( Read more... )

"I'm going to make enough to share with you."

I'm so lost. Where did I go wrong? And what accusations have you against me? I try my very best at the title we owned. The best friend you'll ever have, my driving spirts marker. All the while I aimed for this, I hadn't realized the depth of admiration I gave to you subconsciously. Every single smile, ( Read more... )