You
ruined
my
life

You're
the
reason
why
I'm
mad

But
You're
my
sweet
drug­

my
secret
boyfriend

que poca mentiras tenes de chiquito a chechuas:

Lyrical y poeta
Poeta y lyrical
Media luna y cracked jokes
Cakes and misfit animals
Se van a open para vergasos
Los movemos antes de llegar
Muebles no carga
Sangre equivocada de cuero
Boludo
Los libros se cargan solos
Poeta
Los libros en las tinieblas de la mente
Poeta

Girando sin parar la cabeza va
Después de todo es más que un sonido

Todo lo bonito se admira de repente
Todo lo feo se arrepiente uno despues

Que es lo interesante de tu pareja:

Baudelier, se sintió frío al escribír sus poemas o estoy mintiendo.

No podemos rescatar la madre de la sabiduría.

We are the first generation truly
free - free to create and destroy.
Living on borrowed time, we are
either the end or another beginning.

[Alright, I don’t know how else to say this, but...
You know Unsafe?
I only made 3 parts.
I keep getting wind that there’s a part 4.
I’m starting to think that SHE continued it somehow.
How she did is beyond me, considering she isn’t exactly real.

Oh yeah.

       You might want a little clarity as to whom i am referring to.

Alright. so, the series X is written about a mystery girl that is called (or rather represented as) X, no?

Well, the reason she’s called that is because nobody knows her name.

I never gave her one.

Getting back on topic, it’s supposed to be written by another fictional person, whom for the sake of continuity, we will call W. Now, W and X were in love, very much so. W is offed, X mourns, yadda yadda yadda, et cetera, et cetera. Well, I felt that in order to give X more clarity and depth, that i’d have to write a second series, One that is written in the perspective of X. This premise became what you now know as Unsafe.

But, for some reason...

As I continued writing Unsafe, it felt more and more like I wasn’t even writing.

It’s like she had extended into my subconsious, from the fictional world in which she dwells, and into my pen.

Luckily, she’s easy to identify. I write her in ‘a special way’ as opposed to my [normal] writing.

Wait.









Alright, Don’t be alarmed, but She MIGHT (this is a big might) have escaped the domain I made for her,

Unsafe,

And into my Notes.

I cannot tell if it’s true or not, as this notice is considered it’s own poem. I cannot interact with my Notes until I decide to leave any poem that I am currently in.

But more importantly, this also implies that she is SENTIENT, and no longer needs me to convey her thoughts and actions.
Hell, she might be fighting for control over my account as I write this!

Ahahaha...

I really ******* myself over, huh?

Anyways, if you see her, tell me IMMEDIATELY! Just whatever you do, DON’T interact with her! In her current state, she is most likely extremely hostile.
I do appreciate you reading X and Unsafe, but this is getting a liiiiitle serious here, so uh...

Please take caution! I couldn’t live with myself if one of my readers LITERALLY GOT KILLED OFF by one of my works.

I’ll update you guys if anything meaningful happens.

In the meantime, I think I’ll go somewhere...

Familiar.]

YOGA
        
When body and mind are in tune,
Flowers of joy and peace in silence bloom :
Relax for a while and look inward,
Regulate breathing and stay unmoved,
Dive into the dark depths
Of the sea of consciousness,
Explore the concealed layers
From its surface, ever active and restless;
Slowly sink into the sub-conscious mind
That run all vital functions, day and night.
  * Move deeper until you reach the source
And find life's perennial spring,
Flowing from your innermost being
Into the boundless universe, ever expanding,
Beyond the confines of the sensuous mind.
When this inward journey, spiritual,
Brings insight into the subtle working
Of the hidden mind, you emerge wiser
And stronger than ever before
To weather the storms of life, ephemeral,
And realize man's fervent prayer -
" Thamasoma Jyothirgamaya"  *
Lead us from darkness to Light,
The ultimate aim of all mankind.
                   **.   M.G.N.Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.

On our first date I'm gonna sit on my phone.
Appear uninterested.
Keep asking you to "repeat that".
When you try and get my attention I'll laugh emphatically at something on my phone and show it to you.
Because I'm Gen Y and I don't have a ******* clue.

I was taught
To show affection when it suits me.
To show love when it's manipulative.
And always to keep you down so it feels like I'm floating.
Because I never want to remember how it feels to sink.

Y I don't identify with Gen Y.