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Saturday, May 22, 2010 / 1:36 AM
sawdust It's the sense of reality seeping in, or gushing in from all corners and directions that you cannot help but feel that the empire and helm that you once held is now slowly leaking and slipping away, and there is no way you can reverse this nor stop it. And i feel a sense of misfortune yet a desire to set things right. But i know that one cannot cry over spilled milk. And therefore i question my motives and rationale, and i wonder about what other people actually are thinking. It perturbs me greatly. It's like a sawdust in my finger. I can see the prick there and it actually hurts when i press against it, but i can also choose to leave it there and let my skin get inflamed. But i don't want to leave it inside my skin. If i take it out, it hurts too much and i don't know if i can survive the pain. Some words cannot be spoken to the right people. Like **. Nothing much is left of us. We look through our memory bank, but only i am left to reminisce. It's nice to think of us once in a while. The friendship and all. But it's okay i think. People change, people move on. No point harping on something that is no longer there. Haha. Different perspective, different attitudes. Outlooks. |
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