Live, love, burn and die.

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As the columns come crashing down.

I am glad you graced me with your presence.

I moved to: Here

You're in time to see me wrestle with my conscence.

Paint me something pretty.
Take it in, it's not too much to see.
We knew this moment was ours, don't give it up or chase it away.
The seams on our tale start to fray.
Draw the blinds and lock the door. I'm treading water, far from shore.
The water serves to break my fall. Open up my lungs and hear my call.
This could be so much more than anything ever before.
If you put your faith in me I promise one thing, I'll never let go, never let you go.
Put your faith in me and step off the edge, I promise I'll break your fall.
You will fly if you take the plunge.
You said it couldn't be done, I said it's never been done.
This could be so much more than anything ever before.
If you put your faith in me I promise one thing, I'll never let go, never let you go.
I'm calling out to you, can you hear me?
Just believe in me. Just believe in us.
Happy thoughts like Peter Pan. The imagination of a boy that shows we all can fly.
Fly away with me.
You said it can't be done, I said it's never been done.
Just close your eyes and take my hand.
Follow me to Neverland.
This is our happy ending.
This is our answered prayer.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

I'll fall. I'll fall down.

It's with mixed feelings I blog today.
These feelings are unusually stronger nowadays.

Hate is simple. Just a very strong sense of unlikeness. Do you comprehend that?
I bet you dont, because you're just a puny little twit with no brains.
You're coated with plastic and filled up with plastic from within. You spew waste and you make trash look so attractive. Stay away from me. I do not want your slimy hands on my things.
Do not come near me, because I have a heart that is made of steel. I can cut you open and expose your insides under the white naked lights. I will cut open your plastic skin and pull out those plastic intestines for all to see.

My dear plastic mannequin, leave me alone, and go out to your plastic world.
Oh yeah sure, get all suicidal on me. Tell me about your bloody Lucifer.
I bet you get audience from everywhere with your whinings. I bet you get attention from people when you tell them you want to slit your wrists.
I, for one, cant see no blood down the wrists you allegedly slit.

Well, let me tell you something, love.
Wanting and doing is completely two different things.

I thought I had a hold over my feelings, my emotions.
I thought that over time, I had learnt to follow my head and not my heart.
But sometimes, I realise it's just a decpetion. I had lied to myself.
Now, I am not that sure I can follow my head and live rationally.
Because sometimes the temptation to follow my emotions are so strong.

A Skylit Drive is love<3
Their new album, Wires And The Concept Of Breathing, is out today.
Go check it out if you're interested. Lol. Though i know no one will.
But hell, they are still pretty good no matter what.

Someone once told me, the best part of believe is lie.
Sometimes we would rather believe in the lies than the truth.
I used to think that I would prefer truth over lies anytime. I used to rather be shot in the head with truth. Because I would die, but I would be free. I thought the truth would set me free. How naive.
Now, I cant say I want things to stay the same. Maybe I do.

Honestly, I never had any intention to hurt you.
But sometimes, things happen even when you dont intend them to happen.
Maybe at the beginning, you had good intentions, or intentions you thought were harmless, but before you knew it things got out of control. Then the situations decide to turn their ugly heads at you. And by then, you would know it's over.

And the words turned to knives. And apologies began facades.
I never meant to hurt you. Never. But sometimes, things can go wrong.
And everything bewteen us would be destroyed by just a tiny little tremor.
Now, I avoid things that remind me of you. But sometimes old habits die hard.

I dont know what I want. I dont know how I feel.
Tell me what to say. Tell me what to do.
Just dont say you need another day to think things through.
Don't say you're leaving.

I feel like an asshole. A jerk. A failure.
They tell me it isnt my fault. They told me it was inevitable.
But what do they fucking know? They dont fucking know a thing.

I can still taste that coppery salty taste in my mouth. The raw feeling of my arm being almost torn off my shoulder. The feeling of being dragged on the balls of my feet.
The cold hard hand that went across my face. Those vulnerable tears that welled up.
The usual feeling of pain wracking thorugh my body as anguish and loathe starts to boil.
Well, I dont deserve this. I dont believe I do. But does my believing change anything?

I have no mood to do anything. Music and writing seems to be a nuisance now.
I want a walk. A walk down unfamiliar streets.
I need distractions. To keep my memories form surfacing. To keep my mind away from emotions. To keep myself from destroying the walls that I have built.

Give me one last apology to help me get over you.

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