itching has always been a problem for me. eczema and all.

to the rest, i’m moving. ask for my new address over msn.

i miss the way your body burns, when we melt alone.

tell it to the walls, cos the people don’t care. what does it matter if one’s intentions are good, that whatever she did was to try to help? does it matter, at all?

fate has this funny way of playing with people. leads us all around, only to let us find we’re still stuck at square one at the end of the day. this perpetual dejavu isn’t funny anymore. sickening, really.

the people that were once patient reveal themselves frontiers, people with masks, not exactly genuine. but instead parade themselves as heroes in their own right. saying, i hid my true feelings for the benefit of others. but face it, won’t you? just like someone who’s waiting for love doesn’t camplain about why it’s taking such a long time, people who want to help don’t fucking publicize.

this is why i left church in the first place. all that hypocrisy, i want to be in no way part of it. this time round, by going back, by trying, everyone’s proving to me, one by one, that i made the wrong choice.

awkward silences, condescending looks and whispered disapproval. i know i’m not imagining this. or am i? can never be too sure, for one. and for the next, grant me the benefit of doubt, please. i’ve been away from home far too long.

so let the one who is sinless cast the first stone.

no one dares claim that place, but instead found a loophole, so all them people cast their stones at the same time. since everyone, could technically be called the last who threw the stone, they gratify themselves, as well as rightfully punish the one who’s convicted, and not feel condemned themselves.

i’m convicted. i am guilty. my flesh is weak, weaker than most. i wish it weren’t so. but my will is deteriorating. after all, what is there to live for, pray tell. i cannot find my purpose, nor the motivation to continue down the road to greatness, because i lost all sight of the target, and besides, the benefits hold no regard in my eyes. so the question is, when the goal is rendered dead and gone, do i still go the distance?

the opposite enchants me, tempts me mind and body. my spirit obviously feels the guilt, but it’s negligible enough for the moment.

some one find me something to stay good for and i will. because i’ve already descended to the point where self-help is fucking useless,because ’self’ wants all the so-called wrong things.

this time tomorrow, i will be dead. and who will care to cry? who would care enough to call, or type in a nice sentence and send it in as a comment?

people are selfish. by nature. people are bad.

school in the morning is really no way to be kicking off a week. i already feel like shit, i have to admit i lok good today, or at least i think.

i don’t feel very good, and i can feel the milo i drank coming up my throat. sick, i know. and to top it off,, the part of jealous ex-girlfriend doesn’t exactly suit me,

i wish we took more pictures.

who shot the arrow in your throat?
who missed the crimson apple?
it hung heavy on the tree above your head.

i am supposed to be at singfest.

boo.

fun is all very nice and well. only, how far would you go for your own entertainment, at the expense of someone else?

just watched untraceable. it’s a good movie. watch.

then maybe you’ll start to wonder just how selfish some people can be. or cruel. or diabolical.

of course, nothing like that could possibly happen in OUR world.. right? uh huh.

so that thrill
that runs up and down my spine,
numbs me.
like
that cold, hard stare you give,
those eyes dyed blue black,
i am immobilized.

so turn me
into something i cannot recognize.
numbs me.
like
that the tinkling of your laughter,
those ideas you put into my head,
i am,
you.

***

hearing your voice put the day into my saturday, and made everything, if for only that 15 seconds, seem like we were still one.

i still love you.

laugh it up. so used to it.

don’t push your luck. don’t mistake my concern as something more than. rather than think i was trying to preserve your life, you say i’m taying to “tell you what to do”.

okay then.

GO TO FUCKING HELL AND BURN MOTHERFUCKER.

because i don’t care. i don’t give half a fuck anymore, because you not only ignored my good intentions, but went ahead to piss me off.

i have to wonder dear, which part of “don’t fuck with me.”, do you not understand?

keeps pulling and pushing, but we’re going nowhere
told me he loved me, i’d believe him if he’d care
love like the rain, and justification like the candles
need like the youth, fear like witches on pyres

keeps feigning and turning, but i see right through you
told me he fell hard, but the bed looks so new
white like the snow, and passionate like the waves
mute like a choir conductor, empty like echoes in caves

so cease my hunger for something non-existant,
fill me with something tangible for a change
if i could i’d lock you up and toss out the key

keeps smiling and haunting, but..

BUT NABEI MY PP IS DUE TOMORROW AND I HAVEN’T DONE SHIT.

i’ve been told, fairytales never do come true.
that they run their course, and in time i’d lose you.
happily, i thought them all rumors.

and i saw for myself, the truth of the premonition.
“i’m sorry”, i said to him, “i’m too selfish for this infliction.”
then ran into a story of my own demise, vulnerable.

so i wonder, was i ever your only?

will you love me in the morning?
forever and ever babe.

i was, once. at least i think. and i wrecked it by being who i was.

i’m sorry.