I sat with pencil in hand
doodling on the white paper
will blue and red rules
low rumble of my engine
and cars passing by
in the background
trying to ignore
the even lower
rumble of hunger
in my stomach
because I didn't have
enough money today
to buy myself lunch
and as my pencil
began to move
a faint crosshatch
of rainbow flickered
across the paper
I wondered if other people
saw little things like this
I should say it's a pity
if they didn't
they were missing out
on something so simple
yet so very pretty.

In my mind,
There lives two wolves.
Two distinct voices.
Each telling me to make different choices.
How am I supposed to know which one to pick?
Quite honestly, the stress of it all is making me sick.
Is the right answer instilled in us?
In our heart and in our brain?
Or maybe two voices is all it will take to drive someone like me insane.

The mind is a septic tank.
Either, you let the filth sit there, stinking,
Or, you get yourself dirty, cleaning.

it's only nine,
where the night barely shows its deep secrets
yet i already am sharing mine with it.
in between the pandemonium
and the faint sounds of television
in the dim light of living room,
i tell the night of how i crave for your skin.
how every little touch of yours would wake the butterflies inside my stomach,
how soft your milky face would feel like,
and how i want to connect the constellation of moles and imperfections in your perfect face.

it's only nine,
the time i want to breathe you in as i hold your tiny hands,
that i'm convinced would feel warm in the midst of howling wind.
i want to hold you and tell you my restlessness of not having you by my side.
it's the first time i want to see your face instead of the gleaming stars above,
because your eyes hold more than millions stars and constellations in the sky.
but don't tell the night, for it would be jealous of you.

I have a recurring vision of me underwater
Completely conscious and viewing the great beam of light trickling in from above me
It happens when my thoughts become too much
When the wave breaks and takes me under, I suppose
"Let my mind run underneath warm jets"
I sit there with my eyes wide open and think of nothing
At least thats how it feels
In reality I'm thinking of everything still
And right when I want to close my eyes and stay under
With the predators of the sea and my heart bleeding
I realize I need to breathe and swim back up

The quote is "close to you" by frank ocean

"Sometimes walking on a wrong path
takes you to the right place
where you have been wanting
something from life.
( may be an instinct or a hint)
Wrong way has a trance to take you
back to your own path,
which you miss once in between the
journey to destiny where Failure is
that wrong way which
rights you later in life.
              
  -Chirayu!.

Resonating from within the soul,
Music is the only lover I will ever need.

Rhythm and beats matching the heart,
Whether it be fingers upon
Keys or strings.

It blocks out the
Hardships, tears, distraction;
Only bliss and peace.

Tongues forced silent
Project their insight and
Internal struggles
With graceful flows
Rocking you lovingly,
Telling you stories of
Truth and false.

Songs are like humans with
Unique taste and opinions,
Yet every note is a spark of faith
And
Every note is a wish upon a star

Hoping to be heard.

Music has to be one of the greatest inventions in the world. It keeps me at bay. The voices, beat, melody, meaning, it seduces me.

If friend groups and cliques played a major role in anything, school definitely takes most of the blame. Because when you get down to the truth, people are awful.

We are just, the worst. So don't go trying to chase a utopia where we all do good by each other, because we can't. We don't ever take the route we would actually prefer in life.

Why is that? I don't know.

Like I said, people are awful. and there really is nothing you can do about it.

Okay, you what saves my soul? Laughter.
Because even when I know somebody isn't talking to me, their laughter still exists. Hear joy and knowing that someone is okay, words aside.

And for me, that will never be enough to satisfy my loneliness. But it has to be. For their sake.
And for some reason, I still hold out hope. The slightest bit of optimism. Why? Maybe because I can see it when eye contact is made for barely 5 seconds.

I can feel us wanting to fix everything. But for some reason... we don't?

And maybe we never will. And that will never be okay but it has to be. It doesn't make sense, it never will. And that's just my life. But I don't want this all to seem like a bad dream. Because I'll just look back with regret.

And I can't live like that.

It would kill me to do so.

Got into my car and broke down crying today. While other cars just pass by.

History.

Never really the highlight of my day. But always a stand out part of my day. Always structured the same way, never changed, but not boring. It's the kind of repetition you get used to, and for me, sometimes I'm thankful for it.

Hell, something has to stay the same. And with everything that's happened, I'm glad some things never change.

Or some people.

Dear God, nothing ever does come easy. And nothing ever will from here on out. So I'll just give in to my fate. Changing everything. Or nothing at all.

You know some looks could definitely kill. I don't have that gut to just be inherently evil. Although I seem to be that anyway. I don't have the strength to look over my shoulder. I have too much shame in that.

It's like a tell, there is no breaking it. And it sucks. The voice is enough to throw me off.

I cannot shake this. It's just one event right? One semi-life-changing problem that took its toll on everyone involved.

What have I done? What can I do now?

Is there such a thing as starting over? No. Not really.
Because unless we all induce amnesia on what happened, we do not forget what happened. We still hate each other. And the pride that comes along with that is nothing short of destructive.

If you're right, you're right. And if you're right, I have to be wrong.
And I am. I'm mature enough to acknowledge and wear my shame like my checkered shirts.

There is no such thing as a happy ending. We make mistakes, people don't forgive, we die, we fail, we do everything to deny out failure. And if we don't... then we carry our shame with the entirety of our shoulders.

The realization is setting in. Time to walk.
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