protège-moi de mes désirs


homeaboutfacebooktwitterinstagramarchive other







novembre blue

 

 

 

 

everything was beautiful & nothing hurt… only in my dreams.
so give me sleep. 





fight me, inner battles… fight with me

one day i would look back and wonder how much of a mess i’ve been. and may still be.

i am never enough, not for anyone, not for myself… i see the end of me before i can even start. i have been in search of something for the longest time and i am not even sure of what it might be, and time was never on my side.

the most common illusion, ever - that things would get better w/ time. No. it doesn’t. and it gets tougher, may i unfortunately add to that. 

i sometimes am in awe of myself - living within my own built-up alternative reality because everything else is too painful to face up to. 

what a mess.

what a mess.

what a mess.





……coffee, sunlight, sleep, lone, dreams

the thought of death always creeps up to me in the early cold of the night. not in a creepy way though, more so in a sudden bout of uncertainty and surreality. i guess i’ve asked myself a little too many times now… if death feels so real and will surely happen one day, then what is life now? i’ve honestly lost count of the number of times this thought has came up to me and it doesn’t feel any less real every single time. i don’t know if i should blame my constantly wandering mind or that maybe i have too much time on hand to actually let my mind wander. 

the monotony of everyday-life: study/work/eat/sleep/work/work/strive/for/success/and then…/work/more work/equates to a step closer to success/ and then what…

t o o c a u g h t u p . 

but then again i guess it is the monotony of everyday-life that keeps life going. i have this really weird concept… that if i’ve accomplished all my dreams, i would then feel empty, so i prefer to stay in the process of achieving. if that sounds logical at all. it’s almost like attaining nirvana, once you’re there, there’s no where else to go from there.

stagnancy. …not for me.

comfort zone vs the constant run.

at most time i think i know what i want. seemingly. but i guess in actuality, what happens is probably just me going w/ the flow, & hoping for the best. and that sounds mildly pathetic enough.

school in less than a month… welcome me back into the monotony of everyday-life. have i ever been out of it, anyway? 





i have lost it…

it’s always the same old cycle, same old stories, same old mistakes, different time, different place, different people… 

i usually start writing down my thoughts with an imaginary white blank sheet in mind, with the expectations that minutes later, it will be filled with words and more words. they don’t have to make sense, because my mind is, as always, filled to the brim with incoherent thoughts. that’s what i think. but truth be told, when i start writing, it is actually really done on a canvas of mess… a continuation from the last time i left off, with my pile of rubbish crazy over-thinking, over-analysing thoughts. when will i cut myself some slack up in the head department… it’s probably having a harder time than the heart.

change is supposed to be something ordinary, usual and expecting. that’s the least i would say. but i’ve come to think that change can be equally scary when it is recognizable. how should i put this? recognizing a change and accepting it… as if it was meant to be. 

i have too many issues to tackle. 

and the world keeps adding on to my pile.

ugliness and deceitfulness seems like the new daily breakfast now. 

because i have recognized, and come to accept them.





my february heart

 

 

 

she’s a dreamer…
she dreams too much.
she dream beyond her dreams. 

"we keep running till we die. we separate, get further apart, till we are dead."

x