Oct 1, 2012

i'm

stuffed to the gills.

while the white bars dance up and down.

and the blues travel in endless circles.

ah. the signs.

one should not ever allow anything that needed rationalization or justification to take place.

especially when there's extra effort taken to dry the brain juices.

no. no. no.

it just takes a mere touch to bruise the heart.

black, blue, purple, brown, muddy, green, veiny, spotty, and disgusting.

hours to study and analyse.

"how on earth did i earn this."

ah. the signs.

the fizzle of 10 million bubbles rising to the surface, breaking air, straining through liquid, heavy and slow.

the name of a long forgotten person, who used to mean something, in one way or another, who shaped your very thoughts and cognitions.

the act. in a flash, lifting the veil and revealing your glorious stupidity to yourself.



 that moment.










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