"A thinker but not necessarily a doer".♥ I don’t want to sound over-confident. I digress. It’s not just true. A thinker. Sure I do think most of the time. That I’m always too caught up with this myriad of thoughts I slack and could not figure out which is which. Heck, I do procrastinate. But I do get things done in my most efficient way. I could juggle different tasks at same given moment.
♥ I am though guilty of shutting the blinds and not letting any ray of sunshine through when madness engulfs me. A manic depressive recoils and wallow in her cocoon; who succumbs to the intense meeting of ballpoint and sheet. A piece full of wobbly symbols which bewail anxiety, pain and tears of this broken spirit. At my best, even at the most trying time of pushing my patience to the edge, I remain calm in expressing myself. I only speak when it needs be…
♥ Here is a world full of lies, deceptions and pretensions. When can they be true to themselves? No matter how they project a skin anew and hide inside their frocks, they will still turn ugly. Their own deceit will betray them as it would surface how they deplore the language which they could not even muster. And this masquerade they gloze themselves in will veneer off the appearance they so perfectly improve each day; the true of colors of a copycat.
♥ Sometimes I wonder, does moving on mean teaching yourself to stop loving the person and look for someone else? Does letting go mean killing the hope of reconciliation even deep inside that is still what you pray for… And that small hope lives there in the smallest corner of your heart? But I guess, there is no definite manifestations of moving on and letting go… These are only the right words to say of what a person should do when things get all shitty…
♥ I will cry my heart out and empty myself of pains. I am just about… and it feels exhausting, mentally excruciating. As far as my truth gene could bare and I’ll sing my hallelujahs, they cower when a tsunami of bold essentials laid bare at them. They’re not as sincere to the first words come out from their lips. I could never truly rhapsodize the goodness of their hearts.
♥ As day wore on a heavy despair gathered; crushed, obliterated. Because somewhere behind, in the twilight, a bitter weeping and a hopelessness. To where this unfaltering spirit must go, passion seemed to ebb away. Unless something happens in this perfect lucidity.
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