Do I love love ? Or do I hate love ?
Love makes everything feel like it’s on steroids. It’s makes the highs sooo incredible and happy, while it makes the lows deathly dark and scary.
It can make you feel so inspired and motivated and outgoing and light,
while at the same time it has the abilities to be completely debilitating.
Completely detrimental.
It can make you so cold and heartless.
So uncaring and rude.
But at different points I feel both extremes.

Lately, I’ve been coming to crossroads mentally and spiritually
To either go %110 and give my all and be open and flexible on all aspects and wear my heart on my sleeve. To be completely open to being loving
Or
To still give that 110% but direct it more towards myself rather than my relations, to block myself off from certain things and keep my mental focused on myself and my goals.
To keep that energy internal so myself only can prosper from the energy and not a single other person.


To spilt my energy more so into an array of aspects including myself, or to focus it only on myself shielding and blocking all outside energies.

Broken pieces are scattered all around.
Shattered fragments of a joy-filled time.
If you move fast - you can avoid them,
hit the lone spot right where the floor is exposed.
But hopping around is another way of lying.

Do you keep you steady effort?
Or is it time to begin cleaning up the mess.
The more time builds up, the worse it gets.
The more subtle flaws stand out,
the more good times you start to forget.

It's the feeling you've reached the end.
Thinking back, maybe it  lasted too long,
but there's no going back now.
So what's the point of lingering in the past,
you've finished, take your final bow.

Is R E A L I T Y even R E A L ?
Lately I can barely even F E E L .

                                                        I'm trying to F I N D ,
                                                        Why I've had a battle in my M I N D .

                              I watch as people L I E ,
                              Leaving the others to just sit and  C R Y .

Humans are evil, we let others  H U R T ,
And although it's not okay it makes them A L E R T .
                                                          
    ­                                                      I guess everything has a R E A S O N ,
                                                          Just like each and every S E A S O N .

                              So to answer my own question, L I F E is R E A L ,
                              And it's quite a big D E A L .

Why?
Sitting by my desk, I asked.
Intoxicated by unwillingness,
there was bitter down my cold body.
On the desk, there was a petal,
there was no telling where it came from.

The Pint of a Groggy Moat


“If writers wrote as carelessly as some people talk, then adhasdh asdglaseuyt[bn[ pasdlgkhasdfasdf.”
― Lemony Snicket


There are 2 mornings of types
How I wake up:
1, the glorious morning seeps in my being and
fills me with light for the day.
2, the mornious gloring beeps in my ceiling and
tilts me with fight for delay.

This morning was the second type.

I'm afraid I'm not so good at this writing thing
Everyone seems to have a way with words

I just chatter on til i feel like my soul is free
Or maybe, it's til my soul reveals that it's empty

Either way

What was I saying again..?

Oh yea,

I'm afraid I'm not so good at this writing thing