thought# 204- life? this is just practice

i think its easier for me to talk about myself allusively especially when it comes to feelings and emotions and all that shit that ruptures my heart and mind incessantly. maybe because it's easier to reveal yourself when you don't know and don't care who receives your secrets. maybe because it's easier to reveal yourself when the unknown who receive your secrets are unaware of just how much something means to you. i think, through the years, i've mastered this art of becoming indifferent and aloof towards matters pertaining to the heart. i hate saying that i miss someone insanely even when it's all i can think about internally. i hate admitting i still feel for someone even in the midst of entertaining somebody new. i say i'm fine and there's nothing to talk about when my insides are like an overflowing bathtub; i am attempting suicide and half-way through i realise i still want to live but it's too late and i'm thrashing around like a ridiculous fucking lunatic.

i don't do this because i'm a coldhearted bitch. neither is it because i want to display some delusional perception of strength. it just boils down to me being scared. i'm frightened deep down. frightened if there are no barriers between my helpless little self and the wall i build around my weaknesses then i have nothing. i'm not saying i've never given myself away before. i've liked, more than liked, i've shared pieces of my world with others and consequently i've gotten bruised and become road kill. do i regret that i chose to use my heart? hell no. but that doesn't erase the fact that it's just made me scared shitless.

self-preservation perhaps. but whatever it is, i have to be honest, it's not going to change. i guess it's a rehearsal for when the real deal arrives in my life but until then i will keep myself guarded and allow my insides to wallow in their little secrets and be just that little bit frightened, but never shut, to let someone in.

love,

PS."I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened of anything. The more I suffer, the more I love." wish i was like him.

thought# 203- maybe, maybe not

i like to think that if i move very far away, distance myself by bodies of water and bodies of flesh, into another hemisphere and life then maybe i can forget you. and maybe if you fall away from my day to day activities and i lose heart to want to know how you are then maybe i can forget that it still murders me inside. and maybe if i become too busy and preoccupy the contents of my mind with a future then maybe i can forget how it once felt to be adored beyond the surface of my gender. and maybe if i can stop implicitly writing about you and the alternate realities i wish we found ourselves delved within then maybe my heart will shrivel and close up like a barren sea and i will be indifferent to anything pertaining to you. and maybe if i can take the courage and fear no more and find someone else to replace the void and perhaps spend a few years together and become comfortable and eventually get married and pop out a few puppies and live the life we set prayers and sleepless nights studying in university over, then maybe i can forget that i once actually gave an irreplaceable piece of that wretched organ to you, and you alone and even though those feelings become unspoken truths and i am not in love with you any longer something innate makes me think he should have been you.

love,

thought# 202- truth be told

i have had many days pass since we parted ways.

some mundane and monochrome, stuck watching the blur of crusted rooftops, busy streets and anonymous farragoes of flesh and bone through a vandalised train window. ordering a daily dose of caffeine, the smell of toasting bread, walking towards university, music echoing in the caverns of a broken eardrum, more strangers. slightly trembling at the cold weather, second cigarette, second coffee, second opportunity at quitting dismissed. reading a book, eating katsu, withdrawing money, avoiding "see your balance." repeat public transport ritual, return home to the silence of an empty, haunting abode. repeat, repeat, repeat.

some days are eventful and memorable. stuck between the reoccuring notion of a face and a name and vodka. happy to converse, happy to dance and forget the misery of living such an opaque life. another inappropriate photograph, another handsome stranger you've missed the opportunity of befriending. late night fast food, toilet bowl and pillow interchangable for tonight. loud sing-a-longs to songs you hate when you're sober but suddenly adore when you're not. you're singleness a reason for your recklessness. casual. telling the truth to someone you're about to kiss. no recollection the morning after. two panadols and a hot shower. never again.

but there has not been one day that you have not come into thought. not one day where i don't think of how simple things would be if things were not how they were now. not a single day where i hold your letters above my bin but cowardly return them to their hiding place. not a day i don't want to message to say hello because that is what normal people, normal friends do. not a single day where i wonder if you're well and happy and thinking to yourself, i'm glad things didn't work out with her. not one day i want to punch you in the balls for being so difficult. not a day passes where i pick up my pen start with dear... and never get past your name. not one day where i am not internally tortured, externally nonchalant.

i have had many days pass since we parted ways. truth be told, it feels like i've existed in only one since that day.

love,

thought#201- the real biography

• i am indecisive about the littlest, minute things such as what to have for lunch, what to wear today and if i should get out of bed this morning.
• i adore tiny splatters of meaningful ink. i like to think of them as love letters on skin.
• i don't like considering myself as a smoker. but that would be a lie.
• i am not skeptical or bitter because of past relationships and love. truth is, i'm a little afraid.
• i think people get to a stage where they think they've broken into transparency with me. but really we're only scratching the surface.
• i like getting comfortable, but i don't think i've ever experienced it. change always seems to get in the way.
• i believe in God. i believe in a life after this. i believe i am created for a purpose other than my own. that doesn't mean i don't struggle with it all everyday. 
• i'm a bit bipolar. i have so many facets. some people think i'm a bit of a contradiction. they're right.
• i love my family. we have our moments. but at the end of the day i am so grateful.
• i appreciate the little things in life, and the little things that people do.
• i am generally a positive person. generally. 
• i want to find that special guy. i want to get married and have babies and live that sort of life we all scoff at as adolescents. but not right now, secretly, i don't mind stumbling my way through (drunken stupor) for a bit.
• i believe everything has its season and reason. the answer isn't always for us.
• i'm not altogether, believe me.
• i want to travel so badly. i want to experience the glories and richness this world has to offer.
• i love anything understated; hidden treasures.
• i adore reading and writing and cracking open the skull of other human beings through the thoughts and genius that ooze out of them. 
• i often create alternative realities for strangers and myself. that doesn't make me divine, only creepy.
• i am rather awkward. 
• i don't like giving too much of myself away. i don't know if that makes me a tease or a prude or fucking selfish. maybe its just my natural reaction of self- preservation.
• i actually care, more than people think or what i want people to think.
• i care about the future. i believe things will be better in time and that i'll get my shit together eventually. 
• i have big dreams and plans. sometimes i fear they'll forever remain as those. 
• i have this intrigue for things like biographies of serial killers, drugs, skeletons, sex and models. its kind of twisted. 
• i believe everyone is capable of being beautiful and that everyone merely has their ugly days.
• i want to make my parents proud. 
• i have an affinity for stereotypically geeky things like literature, cafes, old cameras, moleskins, glasses, cardigans, naked ankles and socially awkward virgins.
• i have morals and virtues, things that suspend from time to time but are never erased.
• these days i am becoming more nonchalant, passive and indifferent about everything in my life. i kind of hate myself for it.
• as cliche as it sounds, if i can influence one persons life for the better i can die a happy woman.
• i wish i loved animals more than i really do, i also wish animals loved me more than they do.
• music is such a dictator of my mood, imagination, inspiration and to an extent my existence. its a supernatural gift really. 
• i have a big heart, but its not a college house party so please don't trash it.
• i love the concept of casual but i question the reality of its existence.
• sometimes i wonder who my real friends are.
• one day i'll get my sleeping patterns aligned to normality.

love,

thought #200- confessions

i wish i had known you in a different time in my life. not at this current moment where my head is consistently rotating, my shit is all over the place and i don't really know what i want to do with you. i wish we were twelve and you liked me because i was the only girl bold enough to kick you in the balls (literally) and say hello to you in the playground the next day. i wish we were twenty one and i somehow persuaded you to come to europe with me and we would spend month after month in each other's bed and each other's skin and each other's heads until finally one of us would be courageous to ask "is it time to go home now?" i wish we were nearing thirty, sitting in an apartment overlooking a monument of some sort. drinking red wine (something i never thought i'd do in my young age) and listening to frank sinatra. exhaling our success and inhaling each other's. you'd ask me to marry you and i laugh at your face but agree because things are somehow right and appropriate and i can't imagine loving someone as much as i do with you. i wish we were seventy eight reaching down to pat our faithful feline (something i'd never thought i'd do in my younger age) and holding onto each other as if we were lifelines. intertwined beneath silver locks, the smell of must and orthopedic loafers.

not now. not when i am nineteen and indecisive and still unaware of my exact purpose. not when i am as volatile as the next natural disaster to strike the earth. not now when i want you so much that the moment you disappear or say you love another is so mammoth it could potentially deflate the contents of my heart. not when i need to know Him first, myself second and you third. not when i can't even figure out when my last cigarette will be or the last time i ponder about the universe in its totality. not now.

love,