Sunday, February 26, 2012


Triangles are too cliché.
Nowadays I prefer polygons. They’re far more interesting and they are sure to fuck you up.
You see, with triangles you can never be sure.

Don’t you see? That’s what everyone seeks today. Pain.
It’s the 21st century and depression is the new black.
Such a fucked up generation.

Monday, February 20, 2012

When the sun goes down.

And then it hit me. Why are my biggest dreams, things that I can’t achieve?

It’s all about fear. I don’t like a lot of things.
It’s the fear that one day I will be left with nothing to achieve. And what is life if you have no goals?
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” said Eleanor Roosevelt.
My life is nothing but a series of unavailing pursuits.
I like saying “I want to do this, I want to go there”.
The thought alone, of me wanting something so much, makes me happy. That’s why it doesn’t really matter if I actually do any of the things I say.
Because it is sometimes, quite often really, that I know, that if you leave me to rot in this room, alone, forever, I won’t really mind. I’ve been there; I’ve stayed alone for months.
And sometimes I wish this wasn’t true. I wish I wasn’t so sure that I could make it alone.

I hate easy things. Whenever I achieve something, happiness stays, but just for a little while. Then I want to achieve more. And that’s why I fill my time with “musts”. But they are not really “musts” they are “wants”. The desire not to think about all these. The desire to feel I’m actually doing something.

And I think people should know that. But then again I don’t want people to think I’m insensitive. Because I’m not. But then again this all doesn’t make sense.
But then again isn’t life itself so, oh so controversial?

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Wheel of Time

And sometimes, it's no ones fault.
It's the things that could have been done and the things that could have been said. The thoughts that should have become sentences and the feelings that should have become actions. The sleepless nights that could have been phone calls and the shiny days that should have been walks. But they weren't. And no matter how much you try to rationalize your accusations, you can't put the blame on someone.

We are all different. We do the same things for different reasons, followed by different thoughts, and different desires.

Sometimes things fall apart, people drift away, and if you don't do anything about it when the time's right, it's over. In the end it comes down to this.You either try, or you don't. There's no use in thinking about it later. Let it go. Stop torturing your mind with what-ifs, and whys.

There is always next time.

Sunday, February 12, 2012


Was it all to waste?

Gazing at the night sky
under the moonlight
that dresses up the sea
faithfully every night.
And the world
so, oh so small
just a crowd of
seven billion lonely faces.
An inch of poetry
a handful of stars
a little bit of forget me not
make up for the perfect love potion.
A scribbled note
that I drown into the ocean.
"You can't find peace in a battlefield"
And as your promises ring hollow
I realize
I can't stay.

Forever promised to the dark.

Saturday, February 11, 2012


And it's the brief moment you open your eyes, and you ask yourself "Was it all a dream?". And then it hits you, like a bullet, straight to the heart.

It wasn't.

You refuse to get out of bed. But then you hear movement. You hear voices. You hear the birds.
You realise that the world keeps on turning. You don't care. You want it to stop.
You want to get down.

You look at your phone. No phone calls.

I would live for you. If you lived with me. Because right now I'm as good as dead.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Mental Masochism

Cry my child, cry.

And hate yourself with passion, because no one will ever hate you as much as you do right now.

Torture yourself. 
Think of all the things you did. 
All the people you hurt.
All the mess you made.
Because of your own insecurities.
Because you were just bored.
And repeat it all again in your head.

And hurt yourself. Hurt yourself because you can't seem to understand that this isn't your playground.
Because you have to learn the hard way.

And destroy. Destroy everything. For you deserve to be left alone.

Monday, February 6, 2012

You don't believe me, but you do this every time.

If New York was inside of me it would all be shattered by now. I could feel it crumbling.
The Empire State building would have turned into dust. Brooklyn bridge would be nothing but a pile of scaffoldings. Our favorite park would be covered with plaster.
You hit again, like a hurricane, but this time I wasn't prepared. 

Dozens of nights trying to convince me for all the things you denied today, within a minute.

It was warm when I met you. I was frozen.
I was looking at the sea, you were looking right into my eyes.
You saw things that night I can't deny. Somehow you knew me.
You turned my world upside down.

I tell you everything. Every single embarrasing, sick, twisted, deranged thought I have.
Never before have I loved someone so much, in such a short amount of time. 

You are the first thing I actually put effort into keeping. I raised my voice, I expressed my desire. I didn't just sit there and wait for things to happen, like I always do.

Why can't you see? You are my exception.