Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The end of the world


This city bleeds.
Came back after 30 years. I found nothing but ruins. 
They say in this life we stand alone. They're wrong. We stand together; together with all the wrong people for all the wrong reasons, and that's far worse.
Somewhere in the crowd I see you. You hold a ticket to New York and a jar of marmalade. The only smiling face in a sea misery.
In the end it's us that will run away. Not the friends, not the lovers. Just you and me. "Undefined" is the best title.


Trust can only be built. It isn't there to be won. And no matter what they say it can always be rebuilt somehow, sometime.
Me? I always want the unattainable.

Promise me eternity or burn; burn like the magnificent star you are and take me down with you.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

May 12th, 8.32


I crawl through life like an empty shell.
I do things just so I can buy a little more time. So she won’t point her finger at me and accuse me of being useless.
I try stuff just to “see how they are”. I try to love, I try to be in love, I try to care, and when I fail, I just smile and say “I’m sorry, I told you I’m not good at this”...  And I leave.
I use people with their own consent.
Pain is contagious. It’s like a little virus that sneaks inside of you when you are vulnerable. I’ve breathed pain into a lot of people. Without knowing it, without wanting it. I’ve dragged them into darkness and left them there.
Responsibilities make my life useful. People make my life interesting. They provide me with the drama I need.

Everything is fine. But not good. No. Things haven’t been good.
You see, there are some people that just aren’t meant to be here. The damned ones. Damned to live mediocrely, love mediocrely, dream mediocrely. These people don’t deserve to be here.

My biggest fear is that I’m empty. I don’t want to want to be alone. Please.


Thursday, May 10, 2012

Oh dear, look what you've done


12 am, I’m listening to a song.
It goes well with a cigarette and a drink.
Too bad I don’t smoke.

I guess I’ll just have 2 drinks then.
Or maybe 3.
4 and I’ll call it a night.

5 am, I’m listening to a song.
The bottle is empty.
I’m still sober.

Sometimes I want to drink the whole world.

I want to drink you too.

Oh, my playful mood.




Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Whining vol. 100000000000000


       The rare times I get the chance to feel something, it’s usually negative. It’s either anxiety, or anger, or confusion.
I have to write something. Something good, something deep, because I’ve neglected my blog lately and my millions of viewers are going to be disappointed (just kidding, I have none). I’ve started so many documents, I’ve lost count. None of them is good enough. This is not good enough.
     
       Some call it writer’s block. I call it uselessness. But maybe I’m just oppressing myself once again. Maybe I have to let myself loose. I wish there was an easy way to do that… or any way.
I should be typing right now. And I don’t mean this. I should be typing my assignments, which I should have completed by now. Or at least started…
       My mind is elsewhere. I don’t know where, and frankly I couldn’t
be less interested in finding out.
I can’t say I’m sad, I can’t say I’m too happy. But mostly I feel restless. I feel the need to do something but I have no idea what that could be.

       To cut a long story short, I don’t know anything (so you really needn't have read all this nonsense. Wow, this is the first time I use "needn't"... and it's probably wrong. Never mind, nobody cares, jeez). And this sucks (I mean this, the text). Not good enough. But then again, nothing’s really good enough for me. Who cares!