I have realised today that majority of people seem like empty shells washed up upon the shore.
Maybe I say this because I just watched them from a distance,
But they all seem either meaningless or uncertain.
Uncertain of their existence.
It's like they are simply just floating on the current of the sea,
Not trying to swim out of the tide.
Perhaps they like the feeling of comfort,
Knowing that eventually the water will push them onto the sand.
Why not explore the depths of the water?  
Why have shallow living when you where meant to expirence the joys and the hurt of this world?
Maybe they are afraid of feeling isolated, all alone in the big empty sea.
They allow themselves to be blue rafts on blue water, they want to blend in.
Don't they understand the importance of solo adventures?
Of discovering abandon ships that remind them of themselves?
Why be an empty shell buried under sand when you could be flooded by the beauty of the world?

I use to write alot when I was depressed, I guess the idea of putting my thoughts on paper made my sadness feel so much more real. At the time I liked it, I liked the feeling of being fragile. It made me feel vulnerable. But I started distancing myself from it. I didn't want to live in darkness any more. My happiness grew and I nurtured it as one would do taking care of a rose grown from a seed planted in your most needed time. My perspective of life changed, it was like I was reborn into the spiritual realm and my life was but a seedling sprouting from ashes. I looked to the sun for unconditional love and I found it in the flames of a thousand skies.I reached out towards it in the hopes of finding the answers that I needed,I loved ever moment of it even though I was burning on the way. In a sense you could say I burnt myself down but only so that I could rise again. I had the opportunity to mold myself and I choose to become the closest living embodiment of mother nature herself,  I haven't fully achieved that yet but I was created in the belly of a star and my veins run with blood infused with star dust. I am a magical being or atleast I'd like to think that I am, I don't want to be anything less, than a women whom someone could never forget.

My body is fragile; as if made from broken pieces of porcelain so carefully molded together.
My soul is a glimmering light, trying to escape the incarceration of my mind.
My cosmic consciousness was meant to fly,
Pure potential in the highest reaches of the sky.
This ground is only temporary.
This intricately constructed body is only a vessel for this mere short time.
My spirit will ascend to the celestial purgatory amongst the billion of stars that met the eye.
Blessed will those humble people be that shall find beauty in the crepuscular light of my shine a thousand years after my physical body has died.

And have I forgotten how to love or how to be loved.
Or am I just drowning except i can see everyone around me still breathing.

And as I lay there and stare into the darkness,
they whisper in my ear "you better fear me dear for I am death"
And then I wonder what kind of darkness is needed to see the stars.

Was I taken and torn apart just to be thrown in the middle of a pack of wolfs,
and attempt to fight for my life.

And then I think to myself that I should give up,
so that the wolfs can tear my skin up.
At least then I wont have to do it myself.

So when people ask about the scars on my arm,
I dont have to say self harm.
I can say I survived a battle,
and they wont laugh.

My pain is greater than anyone will ever know.
To bad no one can see my soul,'
then maybe I would have some hope.

My gauntly frame, standing so feeble in the reflection of the mirror infront of me.
My destituted soul.
So terrified,
So anxious,  
Of what lies ahead.
This conservative idea of ancient jubilation,
Eating so ferociously at my soul.
This solemn feeling in the Base of my throat,
Tempting me in the silence.
So unyielding.
My gauntly frame so ravenous for attention.
So parched from love.
So eager to find an adored one.

The morning light came streaming in.
I felt the weight of his arm over my chest locking me in.
I could still feel the trail of soft kisses tracing the nape of my neck.
My mind was occupied by his ink stained skin, His dark complexion and His thick black hair.
While he laid there motionlessly in the depth of his dreams,
I could still feel his fingers lingering over my skin.
In an attempt not to wake him, I rolled over to gaze at a figure so close to a God that I felt over whelmed.
I felt so insecure.
How could a man of such brilliance sleep with a girl like me.
I laid there, staring back at a strong man whom loved me so graciously the night before.
I breathed in and savoured every second,
Trying my best to create a never ending moment.
A moment that would last ever.
Because I feared that I might never get to see this perfect still life picture again.

I have constructed this illusion,
That my life is a theatre orchestrated by a man.
A man so evil that all the monsters of the earth can't help but dance to his tunes.
I find myself thinking, of a thought I can't despair.
What if this man decides that the theatre no longer forfills his need for entertainment?
What would happen to me?
To every thing I've ever know?
This illusion I've constructed,
Of choirs humming a significant song....
This illusion so fragile,
Not even the pillars of my heart could keep the walls of the auditorium up.
Have I just embodied a character engulfed with love?
Have I been blindsided by this evil man?
Dictating my every movement, every ****** expression?
Is it really worth living a life under constant burning light?
So exposed to the audience whom are in awe.
In awe to the pain inflicted by this man.
This man who promised me stardom but instead gave me an empty role.
A role to blend in, to be washed out by the white light shining from above. This illusion...
So distant I almost feel at home.

I dare to tell you, that I love you
And every day now for a year
I've been praying,
Praying for you.

"And this is the only place where I can post something without people I know seeing it."

I was unhappy once, but I've grown. I like to think that I'm happy now.
I'm still here, and I'm still smiling and laughing.
And I think I'm falling inlove and not just with myself but with someone else.

And everything seems to be alright, but I can't help but sometimes feel a little numb....

Am I manifesting on the past?
Or am I reflecting?  

I'm embracing the beauty within everything.
And negativity is irrelevant.

But the balance...I can't help but think I'm off.

I feel like I'm a highly misunderstood person,
Merely because I choose to isolate myself.

Isolation is good.

There is a very fine line between being unhappy and being lonely.

I guess I'm not either, I'm just craving for something that is bigger than myself.

I always get this overwhelming sensation when I meet someone I really like.
It feels like fairies are pulling at my heart, and at my feet.
I can't help but try and escape their playfulness,
I want to refrain from falling inlove with someone whom never even noticed me.
It happens so often, where my mind fools me into thinking that I could be loved.
That I am loved by someone other than myself.
I just wish upon a star...  Upon a thousand actually, that one day somebody could love me.