there's depth in sorrow thats absent in bliss.

mirrors

dont deny that youre concerned, if not preoccupied, with the way you look. it matters to you that your hair isnt falling the right way, or your cheeks look a little fuller, or your tummy folds when you sit or when you look like the spawn of some obese monster in group-photographs. it bothers you when someone passes a meaningless remark about how weird you dress/look/smile/act. and as much as you pretend you dont, you noe you care. you totally give a shit.

insecurites, in my opinion, are the most hideous features of a person. yet its such an innate part of everyone. its within our nature to doubt ourselves. because you're so paranoid about how thosepeople/ thatperson would regard you. but even after realising this, you make your judgements on others. and it is for this reason alone, that you mask your own insecurities. with a sense of humour perhaps? a bitchy persona perhaps? or maybe even a facade of oblivion perhaps?

and all this because you care too fucking much about what they say or think or do. that girl you've been contemplating on chasing, that boy you're so secretly desperate to attract, those friends who make you concious of how much you weigh. THEY. or maybe you, yourself, are part of 'THEY'. with your narrow opinions and your quick conclusions.

so after flipping those magazines, after listening to your friends discuss some 'serious' issues about how intolerably gigantic their thighs are, after walking past all those advertisements about makeup/hairtreatment/weightloss/fashion/skincare - you're left with bruised esteem and neurosis. driven by fear, you blindly consume products or do exactly the opposite. neglecting to question the detriment of your actions to your health/lifestyle/relationships and worst of all, your sense of self. because you've succumbed to being just like those you onced pitied/scoffed at/never understood. you're not a victim of a flawed social system. you're the agressor. and the one person you're causing the most harm to is yourself. but as much as your choices are obviously errored, you have every right to make them and continue making them.

if these things do not apply to you, then know, that peole like this exist. if they do, then Hello.

hey jude

I never dwell or wallow or be self-sympathetic or self-victimising or self-anything. i thought it was always best to keep going and find ways to be excited. but, i've never made a mistake that i haven't retrospectively evaluated and questioned and dissected. i guess that defines the mental limbo that i am in. in all my theories and all my self-explanations, i still can't come up with a fitting cause-effect chain to this. and somehow I've temporarily managed to live and laugh and forcibly move forward. its as if I've given up on figuring out life and it's lessons. its discomforting and isolating. my days are happy but not content. they're never dull, but they past too fast. those that are taxing, are still never rewarding. im always impassioned but hardly inspired. always infatuated but never in-love. 

how can i have your heart when all i do is break my own. 

another brick

There is a wide gaping rift between who you are and who i thought you were. To think that we all lead lives of discretion. Secrets that you yourself have lost in the enfoldings of absent words. Secrets that have been stripped of language that relay them. Secrets that disconnect you from people you love. Secrets that pattern your lies. Secrets that displace you from being the person you want to be. how many of us are really unknown? How many of us live lives that are disengaged from our daily paths? How many of us spend our days suppressing conscience? And how many of us read this and pretend we remain unaffected? Pretending you have the rightful audacity to doubt my reference to YOU.

because it takes one to know one.

Where’s mun?

Just when you think you’ve lived through every possible way of how someone can hurt you, believed  you’re wiser, deluding yourself into a fragile synthetic strength that you thought you’d be able to fall back on.

You fall demeaningly right through it.g

the perfect ending

he waited. waited outside my door with a flower he plucked on his way. flaccid in its wait. he stood there. finally, with a filled full heart.

staying adrift

There is a subtle shift in me. i feel the change in the breeze. It toys with the leaves. It rustles my thoughts. I see its difference in the yellow of the sun. Streaking the world with an unlikely hue. It bathes me with a yellow thats more yellow than yellow. Are we not all salt dolls swimming in a distempered ocean? If you dont drown, you just only dissolve. I hear them speak. And i know to keep still. While i wait. For the next heartbreak.