Barely Alive.

The sky is falling and i could care less
i found something good
and vaguely familiar
in such an unexpected place

cling to the floors to stop from falling
im falling up
upwards in the sky
while everything falls around me

he found something good
and hauntingly similar
so much for class
brought together by the thread
we chose to cling to

waste time, nothing like the end
to start some beginning
unknown from the start
we cling like parachutes
while we fall
up
up
up in the sky
while everything falls around us.

Starstruck.

Apparently the stars we look to are the physical manifestation of the past. So that when ever we look up into the stars -- it is as if the immediate future (us) is directly interacting with the past. hence the past and the future existing in one moment. with that, i wonder-- how can it not but render our meanings of what is the past, and what is the future-- rendering words and its meanings- ultimately useless. if that were true, then the past is not really the past, and the present not the present-- then is the only thing definite, the future? But even then, the future is not given...

Sanguin Aberration.

The decision of Languid fervor has long past, as sentiments soon dissipate in wintry mists. A colloquial affair with much ostentation and pedantry. I no longer hold that veil of splendor, of that a tortuous panorama. Of such a beloved spectacle I would care not soon forget.But all together cannot resist the inevitable.

Camouflage.

When is it acceptable and when is it not?
we drive ourselves crazy with thoughts of the future

and miserable thinking of the past.

-- But why does it seem that letting everything go

wont solve anything?

I blame the nail polish.

so shiny and colorful --and misleading

as like everything else.

To think of it, everyone are like cuttlefishes

you see what they want you to see

In the midst of near darkness

that luminescent skin

and exploding fireworks

a beacon emerges

scrambling to grab and grasp

we fight among ourselves
thinking we know better.

until it disappears

into nothingness.

leaving us wondering

if it were real or a dream.

Insure.

I'm happy that you didn't stay long enough for goodbyes to hurt.