Well, I wasn't able to write for so long is because I had been busy -- very busy with the matters of the heart. I know I must be open with you, I must. Or else, I might as well stick knives at everybody. For that, I am sorry -- I am sorry I forgot everything about my medicine.
For one thing, I theorize things and set them up. And here's the thing: I believe journal writing is psychotherapy. It is the only way we can divert our attention in crucial patterns of jovial massacre and a possible vendetta in our own backyard. If we could only let our killing pleasures --as how I "theorize" it would sound like-- suppressed, then this will be the best resort. This is, by far, the best damn thing ever (thinking about Avril).
Moving on, there are many things that happened with me these weeks. I will keep them summarized for you to analyze. Here it is:
(1) For a conclusion: I have been relieved. Finally. Finally the finals ended with a final blow. Ha ha. I am losing grip! Well, the final exams ended with a very cute credits. That's all I could say.
(2) Well, my heart will be gone forever. She will not come back. Come to think of it, she never really came. She was never by my side -- never.
(3) I am not really getting the hang of it. Maybe my fingers are too tired to be complying to my every moves. I am tired; the circles in my eyes are getting darker. And darker. Maybe someday those skins will be able to cover my eyes.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Me and My Head
Be imaginative.
Like a little boy I pondered about how the flower got its beauty and how the moon was able to lighten up the darkness in my heart. I wondered, dreamt and slept with all the mishaps and shattered promises written in my palm. And, as they slide slowly, being erased by the calloused being as with me, they are thrown away, as if we never met.
Have we met?
You are like that distant silhouette in the curtained blank mind of mine. You are unreal to me but in my mind was a distant shadow of our last meeting. We met, right? For we, in reality, met sometime below the blue moon. We.... Did we?
And alas, I wished. But, like any other fairy tale, my words got lost with its master, for no wish will come true without any will. I really thought you were mine.. But... Were you?
Like a little boy I pondered about how the flower got its beauty and how the moon was able to lighten up the darkness in my heart. I wondered, dreamt and slept with all the mishaps and shattered promises written in my palm. And, as they slide slowly, being erased by the calloused being as with me, they are thrown away, as if we never met.
Have we met?
You are like that distant silhouette in the curtained blank mind of mine. You are unreal to me but in my mind was a distant shadow of our last meeting. We met, right? For we, in reality, met sometime below the blue moon. We.... Did we?
And alas, I wished. But, like any other fairy tale, my words got lost with its master, for no wish will come true without any will. I really thought you were mine.. But... Were you?
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