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Blow you away.
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Down the memory lane.
»No point tryna evade it.
»190th post. Hell yeah memorable. Tonight i ran awa...
»To see the sky in its bluest daysTo feel the wind ...
»Right now i only can think of a CON from a work(as...
»Trains in the skyAre travelling through the fragme...
»Im so obsessed with tumblr photos lately!BUT NO, i...
»The Adventures of Freako&Fairy
»6.38am. If happiness could burn calories, tonight ...
»SS501 - Love Ya, MBLAQ- Y(again)
»oh glorious food!
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Credits
Header codes by: Zeronineroses
Sidebar header inspirations from: Plastic!Romance
:)
While i'm still sober,
Tuesday, June 29, 2010 /
12:12 AM
I've just realised(which i admit is a tad slow) that my posts for the month of june have been highly emotional. I jotted down every of my thoughts, feelings, memory. But were they all inner most parts of me? Nearly there i'll say. There are still hold-backs(sad to say) on what i really feel, and what dare to type on this lil space of mine. I'm no fake. I just can't bring myself to hope that someone in this part of this big world can comprehend half of what i have written. I don't wish to feel as empty as a lil girl who has just lost her grip on her balloons which she tried so hard to hold on to. And when there is nothing that could be done to bring back the joy that has been blown away by the wind, but only to stare at the vast blue sky, watching them disappearing. I fell, i healed. I stumbled, i got up. But the underlying nature of all humans is that, we all love to pick at our wounds. Instantly i take a quick glance at my thumb. The very thumb which is typing all these. I could put a plaster, to stop the pain, to stop the itch of my fingers picking at the wound. But like my own life, i can't define whats this force that's stopping me. And why i stupidly let it. The reason why i'm overwhelmed with thoughts again tonight, was a simple sentence from a friend, who's only known me for 2months. "You always start off talking about something but in the end you're actually keeping all the thoughts to yourself." I admit it. I tell people so much things most of the time but it also pains me to realise that not many REALISE that i'm not even telling them the main point of the conversation. My words may make sense, yet at the same time, i know very well that they're incomprehensible. But people don't point that out. It's either too difficult a task for them to be a wee bit more concerned, or they simply don't care.. :( Most of the time i only wish for someone to look at me in the eyes and say: "Tell me everything." And i will. Now dearest july, won't you come to me a lil faster. For i can't wait any longer to breathe in a new beginning.
