Meaningless

feel as though I'm ruining this place with meaningless words.

nothing means anything to anyone. or me.

am ruining this place with meaningless words.

am being an unproductive machine.

am tempted to call someone, anyone

am dying to get out of this bubble

am uncertain about the future

am in love with words and its wonders

am supposed to get off this thing

am getting off this thing.

am waiting. for nothing in particular.

off.

so who stopped caring first?

Humans are powerful beings. I just made you disappear from my mind. No force, no resistance, nothing. Just poof,

and you can make someone disappear. And it's real.

Reality is in your mind, all in your sane or insane mind.

i don't mean 'just' in your mind. it is your reality, all that matters.

i mean, it is if you think of it that way.

-

Hearts Revolution - Digital Suicide Lullaby

Mirrors

To a person I'll never, ever get to talk to again,

I like looking at your words, they're like mirrors placed in front of me. Mirrors of the past, present. I'm different now, so would you please read this one day and speak to me?

A

Feel as though i have Every single reason to feel lonely, but am surprisingly fine. Am going to bury myself in my interests and work after A's. Such contradictory sentences. Sometimes i don't know if i'm okay only because i've successfully convinced myself that i am. But for now, it doesn't matter as long as i don't fall.

Quite aware that it's all my own doing, isolating myself from everyone else. Maybe i'm convincing myself again.

This space is the only side they'll see now, if they ever do. And it's all about myself. imagine it to be quite terrible. but i don't know what else to talk about when there's nothing else to talk about, in this room i'm in with nobody else present.

It's going to get worse soon. I will be okay.

黑色幽默- 周杰伦

stuck in my head.

don't want september to arrive, week's been good so far.

Cupid must have been drunk

It must have been drunk that night,
Shot just one of us, and with a needle instead.
In daylight or in moonlight, its sharp end
finds its way to me, scratching for cells outside
the heart. To put it under the microscope.

Whoever owns the microscope must need a needle.
My eye is a piece of glass, i am getting a hangover.

Why shoot with a needle, a blunt one at that,
Strike me with one shot, will you? Reincarnation
exists, for eyes to search for someone else
who has been struck. Not just any unwounded soul.

Not one who calls my name, thinking that alone
will bring comfort, or that smile. Cold as
stone. Warmth is temporal, conditional, will not
reach your core. Who are you? It's a question.

But recently i found i am good at spinning a world out for myself.

Besides, it's only what i felt then, at that time.

Changes.

K

Because if i deny this ever so slight liking I have, i will not fall

Down, for you.

And because i have trained myself to do so, it is now easier

at a time where it is needed
More than before, never before.

D

A dull documentation of my life: -

Expression of feelings has little value, for now: -

Meaning can be found in the abstract, and spaces of our minds. Closeness: not just soul-baring, woeful sharing sessions, also not just sharing of thoughts, not just intimacy. But all. And closeness is a temporary state, unless significantly close for a long period of time. Significant. And not just felt on one side.

Separate entities. When will we ever speak; Of shared experiences and condolences, none.

feelings are just feelings, they do not serve anyone. But don't reject it. Remember how it can make you feel, and channel the energy to finding out why you are feeling so.

And it is difficult to trust someone enough to accept your flaws. But we can't control what others think of us anyway, so let them judge till they see no need to judge.

Letter

Yesterday evening, i wrote a letter to my teacher and it made us both smile.

I

I will write about copenhagen, venice, and even rome after my exams, 6 months after the trip. For then, i will know what are the emotions and memories that still stick; i will flash the many photos i have taken (some tainted with bad memories and others remind me of my role and the space i am given in this.. Space i have to share with everyone else). Familiarity is such a nice feeling, the kind where you look at photos others have taken and go 'i have been there, i have been there!!'. What else fuels the excitement?

Yesterday, i looked through a few photos i was tagged in and felt strange. Roughly, this was what i said: isn't it strange how we look the way we are? Look at the mirror/photo, see a person staring back at you, how strange and surreal that the person is... You. Feels like we know ourselves better than our faces, so foreign. What do we know about our own faces, besides being able to recognize it?

It's barely uncomfortable, just surreal. That weird feeling that you actually exist. You hear of stories, of things others tell, and there is 'I'. What exactly is 'I'? Not 'who am I', but what is 'I'.

D

Read my mind and help me form proper sentences.

"A relativist cannot say that all human beliefs are subjective - except the belief that all human beliefs are subjective".

-

A quote from a book I bought recently, the only copy they shipped in. Couldn't resist buying it and now I have to resist reading it. It is, fortunately, tucked away safely on the shelf. Maybe I should lend it to a friend or something.

A chapter reads, "Ishmael's problem & delights of keeping quiet".

-

Recently, all I've been wondering about is the point of speaking. What is the point of speaking, why do we need to express ourselves, why the need to show others who we are -- one afternoon I tried to conclude it's only because we cannot live alone. My reason being, we speak to find people similar to us, have people agree with us, listen to others' point of view and share ours to find out if we're similar or different etc -- mostly to have people with us, accepting us, to be on our side.

(conclusions are, of course, subject to change.)

And then I realised my questioning was all based on my rejection of things, this previous thought based on my (subconscious) rejection of dependency. The inability to live alone is pathetic, which is shaped by a thought based on experience: being dependent equates to getting into a wreck eventually, so one should never be dependent.

And so I asked myself, if we speak only because we don't like to be alone, and the inability to be alone is unacceptable, why speak?

-

If so, each question might be born out of a personal need to resolve a personal conflict, in the disguise of a universal statement: if my questioning was driven by a subconscious thought, and the 'conclusion' I came up with at that time was simply an answer to make myself feel better...

what are 'answers' other people tell us? Is it not simply their answer to their own questions, based on their experiences? Are the only words we can trust words said by people who understand themselves (and their subconscious) fully? We might never know if anybody has fully achieved that, and in that case,
the truth -- is almost non-existent. Almost.

-

That conclusion is only my conclusion. And it is flawed. Flawed only when I try to think: is this the truth, do people agree?

Which conclusion is not flawed? Create something at any point;

1) Even in my perspective, it will change with time;
2) from the perspectives of 10 other people, that creation looks different in 10 different ways, right from the very start.

-


Isn't whatever I said true? Of course it might not be true.

And so the learning point of today: put might behind everything.

"I know I suck, but I love you.
And I hope that should suffice."

Came across this and I don't know if it makes too much sense.
Loving someone like you love a possession won't suffice. Then which kind(s) of love would actually suffice?

such confusion.

-

Feeling non-anti social for the first time this week, maybe cause I saw linette and sarah yesterday. happy birthday sarah :) i'd bake you a cake every year and smash it in your face .. my computer screen.. the bottom of the first page should make the most sense.

now, to reply to the texts I haven't replied to since monday.
It's been a quiet week, a night with my cuddly toy.

It's not very nice.

words swallowed by time -
faces whiz past slowly, down the corridor
spot my print on the wall. A picture for memories.

i forgot how to fake that smile. i wish people never knew how.

find myself a place to hide, tear the crowd away.
No physical space, no black hole, no sand dunes,
can't hide my body anywhere - they'll find me.

but my body can hide me.

no one can find me when i hide in my body
where i can be small and hide in my fingertips
and be on my own.

rather be alone if there isn't you, you, or you.