will things get better,
if i tell you how i really feel inside..?

part of me slowly disintegrate, across the continent

to the place where you called home

"my wounds
do the weeping
i cannot"

-- s. marie

memories from eight years ago flooded my mind like a silent black & white film from the 20's.

people in the past should have just stayed in the past.

"the owl flies, in the moonlight, over a field where the wounded cry out.

like the owl, i fly in the night over my own misfortune"

-- georges bataille

it's heartbreaking to know that
the battles that i fought not worth fighting
the games that i played not worth winning
the words that i said not worth explaining

now everything is going in the wrong direction, for the wrong reasons.

i'm slowly waiting for the depression to kick in.

i have received a huge amount of praise in the last couple of months more than i have ever received in my entire life.

all these years growing up i've been fed by constant criticism, and now the praises is almost unbearable to my shoulders.

did i finally done something good..?

i can't contain anymore,
for i am capable of shattering this absurdity into a million pieces