I am my worst nightmare

I realized that I was infatuated with the idea of you. You are fascinating. Extremely fascinating. But my heart doesn’t jump when I see you anymore, for I know we are not compatible.

The way you think, the way you move, the way you express yourself… it disgusts me, sometimes. But then again, I am going through a phase in which nothing seems good enough for me.

And once more, I’ve proven to myself that I have turned into my worst nightmare. Maybe this is my only chance to attract caring people in my life.

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20.09.2017

Words don’t rhyme into my head anymore. They’ve stopped doing so for a while now. First, in my mother tongue, then in English.

The energy is shifting. I feel the walls building up. I don’t want to feel caged. I was meant to fly. But, perhaps, in order to fully appreciate the result, my journey must be filled with hardships. Hardships. Hardships. Hardships. Hardships.

Like a broken record. Hardships.

I’ll surmount them. But not before I have a breakdown. Or two, or three… I am anxious. Because there is so much pressure on my shoulders. Great expectations. I hate that book.

Life is wonderful. But sometimes, it’s such a bitch. Yin and Yang. Black and White. Never gray. Gray doesn’t exist. I don’t exist when things are gray. I exist now. And all’s pitch black. I have some candles. I just need a lighter. But I never have a lighter on me. And people never want to give me one because they are afraid I will set something on fire.

I was busy thinkin’ ’bout a boy

We’ve never talked. Sometimes, I can feel him staring at me. Or it’s just my imagination. But when I meet his gaze, I swear I can see millions of questions floating around in the iris of his eyes. I don’t even know their colour. Is it brown? I think it is.

Sometimes, I am afraid to look at him. I’m afraid I will notice judgment instead of lust plastered on his face. I wonder if he finds me fascinating… if I arouse his mind a little bit. Does he think of me?

Cause I think about him. And his lips. And how much I would love to have them pressed against mine.

Falling out of love too quickly

You see, I have this problem… I come across certain things, such as TV shows, books, random objects, sometimes even people and start to obsess over them.

Day and night I would think about them, look up information about them, create artwork which was inspired by them. I cannot breathe, I cannot eat, I cannot sleep because I want more of them.

This obsession, however, lasts for a very short period of time.

Infatuation. That’s what it is.

Once it is over, I no longer care about the stuff that once fueled my existence.

And that scares me. A lot. Knowing that I have become the type of person I fear most.

The Future

Sometimes I feel like I have fucked up my own future. That some of the choices I take will alter the days that are to come. I’m planting seeds of despair, sadness and hatred… I will harvest dry flowers, rotten fruit and weeds. The sun never shines over my garden, the water has never touched its soil. That’s not an orchard that you see… it’s a graveyard. I buried all my past selves there. Like a snake, I shed my skin every spring. I try to get rid of the parasites and grow. But I am afraid I might grow too much and I will be obliged to swallow my own tail. Once I finish my meal, I will enter a void. I’ll be the uncreated once again… forever waiting for another chance to be something ethereal on Earth. 

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