from now on

I have never stopped thinking about writing.

this is the truth

It's within me - the urge to write, to jot down a line or two of something strange that overtakes my breath for a moment. I still compose a little bit of everything everyday, unspoken, unwritten words. I will end up pondering about those thoughts for a few days, asking myself whether I should or should not materialize these secrets of mine... I end up shielding them all away from this world. 

And so I built. It's like a library inside your head. It's messy and smells like old papers in rainy seasons. There are no walls just white wooden bookshelves that stack up from the bottom of the floor to the ceiling. I fill them full with muted desire, muffle cry and desperate longing. Those are MINE, I said. But as I stand in front of my newly conquered triumph, I feel out of breath... Ah... I miss the feeling of sharing, of having his head on my laps as we both drifted off to the two different worlds that our books took us. I miss that feeling of curling up inside my room, with a book in my hand, the warm yellow light and some highlighters. There are unspoken words that I cannot share with the world now - I keep them here safe. 

but from now on

from now on, I would like to brush away my fear. I don't owe anyone out there an explanation for what I do and do not. This is fiction, this is the thought that takes my breath away... a scene from my imagination of a girl named her and a guy named him. This isn't me or someone I know - but as I write I would like to get to know them. It isn't something that happened or will happen or must happen... Maybe one day I would keep my promise and write about them in a proper manner. Maybe one day I would string those fragmented bits and pieces of their stories together and make sense out of this confusion... 

These are the possibilities. I don't know. I can't possibly know right now for I am buried alive with a tiny straw to breath under what it's called: my reality. It's just nice, that I have somewhere else to go every time I want to. That there is always a place, the place where they live, fall in and out of love.

from now on, let's just take it easy

and 

breath ...

never mind?

so... it has come to my attention that I don't really "get" the awesomeness of music hits nowadays.

First it was the Grenade song, which hit me like a grenade, literally. While people's hearts are bursting out... in tears like a grenade singing the darn song, I find myself rolling my eyes -.-" It's a typical physical reaction of a snobbish individual a.k.a me... Friends of mine thought the song was darn romantic, breathtaking beauty, I felt like a troll for being so disagreeable.

'Cuz here is the deal, my friend. I see no bravery, no romance, no ultimate love in such suicidal love. "I'll catch a Grenade for you"... yeah... and what? leaving me alive watching you being torn off into pieces? Funny, thanks but no thanks. The whole idea is traumatizing and ridiculously obnoxious, in my personal opinion. However the whole idea that there is actually an individual who could actually see any romance in it frightens me even more. No wonder why the girl doesn't want you. And dear, you really really don't have to agree with me. Wait till you actually experience the trauma of loosing someone dear, then we shall sit down and talk: whether or not you still want a dead boyfriend and a unfinished romance to store in your memory. It's not gonna be a pleasant conversation, I assure you. 

Then "Someone like you" rolls in and I raised eyebrows. It's another depressing song - I have nothing against the singer. She is mad talented. The problem is that I have no idea what you all are thinking... "Never mind I'll find someone like you" It's like after a failed relationship, you want to go back and find another clone - like reading the same book with different covers, knowing very well how it's gonna tragically end.

We - humans, tend to look for sadness and pain for some odd reasons. I wonder if the whole idea of having an ordinary boyfriend who is at the very least alive for you has become outdated, mediocre and odd. I wonder if the whole idea of learning from your mistake, that THIS kind of guys ain't gonna work out with me hence, let's find a totally different type of men has also become strange... Must we? for crying out loud, jump into the same trap twice and then blame Fate for her cruelty.

Remember you took the plunge yourself. I am just saying.

And never mind me :) Just mind what you listen to.