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.

loved you cyanide

I’ve just read Nikki Sixx’s diary entries for when he was on tour with the band during the 80s. I finished it in two days. I couldn’t put it down for shits. Something about it just left me feeling hungry. And reminiscent. Life was just as excitingly reckless. It reminded me of all the days of not-too-long-ago when life was just mad and one day rolled over the next day and everything that happened was blurred because too many things happened and it was all just mad mad mad. I’d wake up countless days thinking “Did we really do that? Maybe i dreamt it. Wtf happened last night. I’d better call S or J or a to find out” because everything felt like a fucking insane roller-coaster nightmaredream. Sobriety was a rare concession. And I loved it and fucking hated it. We were pretty sometimes. Ugly most of the time. Did we care? Fuck no. There was no time. Not when our youths were in need of some serious misusing/squandering. It was 7am-nights-and-6pm-breakfasts. It was hello hi how are you? who are you again? Then off with our sanity and on with the party. We forgot to account for our actions. We forgot that life is somewhat consequential. We’d strut around like escaped mental patients doing whatever the hell we wanted. Even if it was sneaking into private- fields in our clubbing outfits to play 4am soccer. Or doing yoga in you-dont-want-to-know-where. Or trashing J’s cubicle while she was puking inside. Or trying to shave a musician’s head by sneaking into his hotel room. Or just simply eating rotting pizza left in between crushed unvalued hundred dollar bills. Our lives were ours to waste.

And though there were pitfalls and breakdowns. Though some days were just a mess and you knew it had to stop. And the future seemed uncertain and quite a distance away. I can’t help feeling slightly sad, looking back. I don’t remember how it all ended. I just knew i was spiralling out of control. And S cried coz she felt she was losing a bestfriend. And i told myself i’d put an end to all this bullshit. Coz there’s nothing i treasure more than the friendships i have. And i knew that S and H had better intentions for me than i did for myself at that time. So i trusted them to know what was best to do (they were the only ones who had the balls to tell me i was fucking up). And then i just stopped. And everything halted almost immediately. And slowly i changed to this person right now. The more you change the less you feel, right? In countless ways i’m grateful i didn’t go down that path. Who knew what i would’ve done if i had. I might’ve started picking up drugs and become a trashy junkie. Or i might’ve just killed myself out of the increasing lack or purpose that my life had. Thats why I love my friends so fucking much for grounding me and and weeding out anything detrimental in my life that i wasn’t aware of. i’m glad i’m different now.

But I miss those days though. I miss them like a mofo.

told you so.

it's pathetic how you think you're such a badass when you're toying with the shittiest shit. trying so hard, risking almost everything to indulge in the image of it.

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.

true glue

people always hang on to those who make them insecure.

so, sally can wait

People are inflicted with deeper sorrows then your superficial artificial self-important struggles. They are not concerned about you or what you represent or the kind of person you are beneath it all. They care solely about what you can do for them superficially artificially self-importantly. A perfect equilibrium that your world is balanced on. Your superficial artificial self important world. It only takes the slightest sense of humanity for it to completely disintegrate. Careful.

Where’s mun?

Just when you think you’ve lived through every possible way of how someone can hurt you, believing 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.