from now, I'm writing in a journal.

this blog lasted a good whole year.

maybe next time.

the ones we twist in each other because we know we can.

thanks for showing me that its easier to hurt someone, the more you care for them.
just, thanks.

its just another classic beauty and the beast.

I can't believe I'm still breathing, though right now everything would be easier if I stopped and just dropped dead.









giving up is easy.
giving up is easy.
giving up is easy.

because its been more than a week and you are nothing but mist when i am melting you are gone gone gone.

where are you, when I need you the most?
where are you, when I want you the most?
where are you, when
I stop breathing.

person 1.
you said you'd care.
you said; we would stand there like we always would beneath and between high palm trees.
you said; I'll still be there in five, ten, twenty years.
you said; we'll always be best friends.
you said; we'll do everything together, we will be together, we are always together.
you said; you are my, and mine.
you said; I'll never let you fade away into the background of pixellated computer screens.
you said; you'll never just be another forgotten entry in the address book.
you said you said you said.
it has been barely two years.
what do you say now?

I know what I said.
I said I will always love, and be here for you, whenever you need me.
its all slipping away, beneath clouded mists of alcohol and laughter with people who don't know you like I do.
who do you think I am?
was it all nothing to you?
am I no-one to you?

person 2.
if you think you can spill honey coated daggers from pretty lips because the pain is worth the pleasure, think again.
if you think watching me out of the corner of your eye, trying to slip me these drugging hints, will make it better, think again.
if you think I don't notice it when you tell me of the crescent moon, and tell her of the full one, think again.
if you think you can rouse my feelings by speaking of how you rouse hers, think again.
if you think you can simply try to charm me with your words (or lack thereof) and your secret whispered moments and and your scrawled messages and your slight half smile and your careless shrugs, you might be right.

I would stay angry, but you always say the right things.
why am I the only one who did not get the script?

two months.
I never thought I would be able to post this.

but I won't stand for it, I will not.
for none of this.

I cannot put it into words, I cannot stand it
why must the best way be the most heartbreaking;
the most
painful.

and the knowledge that it has all been my fault really just doesn't help things along.

lets keep it simple, lets keep it safe.

short posts for now.
exams ending on:

november 18th

until then, my life in shambles scramble.

hello 100th post.



it matters.
you matter.
I matter.
mattering metaphorically makes me feel better.

so you make me feel better; but how does better really field?

so this is my ninety-ninth post and somehow this makes it special I suppose.

ninety nine red balloons in a sky of mine and shine.
do you know that things like that are called internal rhymes?
I'll rhyme for a dime in my own time.
hello little world I like to call lame and lonely.

because (sorry ninety-ninth post for stealing all your thunder) I am lonely.

not in the oh-my-god-she-sits-alone-at-lunch kind of thing because I will never sit alone at lunch, and anyway I don't care about sitting alone at lunch. I've done it enough times, and there's no big deal.
I'm lonely in the oh-my-god-I-haven't-spoken-to-him-in-a-week kind of lonely.

oh god, I haven't spoken to him in a week.

this is chill.
I'm chill.

I don't know, its like catching snowflakes on my fingertips and watching them melt away.
watching them melt.
away.

it has been a stressful past week; mainly due to how screwed up my computer has been, and the repercussions of not being able to contact people I can't bear missing even if its for a single day.
brought my lappie to the CCC about four times, and each time they just couldn't fix it, those nasty twits.
until ashie (indian guy) decided to wipe my hard drive clean to get rid of those eveel spywarez.
so he did.

now I'm stuck here with a computer I barely recognise, but with working MSN and a clean start.
its like taking your child away from you and replacing it with a newborn baby.
a new, clean slate, but its just not the same.
oh well, I'm giving this baby in about a month's time, so thats long enough for me to survive.

after that, well;

after that, I'm wishing on a star for a beautiful block of carved lightweight aluminium.
hello, macbook pro.


so I make light of things you say;
the thing you said.
I tease and push and pull and I meld,
but really, I'm trying to tear through thin sheets of mercury to get to your head.
inside, inside;
we're digging ourselves in deeper.

now I lose my focus and you lose your touch,
I cling to electrical boxes shaded in and coloured,
fitted together like you should me,
and every construction that requires more;
I reply within the hour.

you reply from within the heart.

I think you are -
beautiful, like how I would imagine the way dandelions sway;
lets tell the time.
lets tell of love,
lets be.

40 days.