Exactly 1,883 miles away, a door closes. When I laid there after you left, thinking about it, its pretty strange to be able to hear something that far away... its also pretty strange how much it hurts as well.

The sound of the hinges creaking wrenches something undefinable inside and the finale when its finally shut echoes away into silence . No applause, no standing ovation. Then there's afterwards. When I sit up and the emptiness; the loneliness embraces me and I am hollowed. There's a reason why I'm indecisive. Its simply my method of avoiding self-inflicted disappointment that coexists with any decision I make. I don't want to keep you from anything, but your company is also really nice. Does that make me selfish? My fault, my bad.

When I hear that door close between my dear friend and I?
My heart drops and I can't seem to find it again.
Maybe because its one thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three miles from me.

Dear _______,

To start this off with something important: Volim te puno.
In case you forgot, I wanted to remind you again.

Here is the space of things I want to say but can't express in words, but sometimes there are things you don't need to say to get across.

Do you remember a while ago when I told you I didn't know what I wanted? I still don't, really. However I do know what I don't want, and thats us falling apart. 
Like I said before, somethings can't wait but I can. I'll still be here.

We don't seal things with glue, a lick or a kiss.
For us, this is
Forever & Always




我不會滿足,如果你告訴我 "因為這是命中註定的"


Waiting For A Miracle


I feel like if I stay around too much, there's bound to be a wreck soon.

I'm taking a break, and the next time you ask me why I'm crying or upset, I don't want to have to lie and tell you its allergies.

I'm getting away from this time bomb before it kills us both.

But I'm going to start from when I was two. That was when I had a set goal in mind every day when I woke up. When the only thing that could make me upset was being forced to eat vegetables at dinner.

Then I was five, when I thought my brother was the most miraculous being alive for being able to press this button on a children's book to make it talk when every time I tried, I failed.

Kindergarten was a short dream. I learned the most I ever would in a year there. How to tell the weather, communicating, sharing. I learned crafts, the importance of specific things, the joys of never being alone. But then again, that was a time when we were all clueless about reality.

In Grade 1 was when I first really became "shy". I finally had a vague realization that the words 'best friend' didn't apply to every person in my class. This was also when I began to be wary of my brother.

By the time Grade 2 ended, I had experienced my first big loss, not a missing barbie shoe, but a person. I also had my first incident of bullying and being an outcast.

Before Grade 3, I had purposely committed my first minor felony and realized I'm not a person who can stand the weight of guilt. After Grade 3, I found two new loves in the form of one person.

Grade 4 was a year of rest.

The summer before Grade 5 was when I had to leave my safety to a place of unknown. I participated in friendlessness that year.

Sometime in Grade 6 was when my brother deemed me "unworthy to have our family name" in front of both me and our parents, it was my introduction to low self esteem and the feeling of being valueless.

I experienced my first death in Grade 7. I spent months crying after he was gone.

Grade 8 is when I felt normal for the longest time in my life.

Somehow, Grade 9 became the year of most drama, but also the year I enjoyed and appreciated the most despite losing someone to time.

I was slowly losing my grip on the things most important in Grade 10, but I couldn't bring myself to hold on any tighter. I was accepted into a family this year that I am sometimes ashamed to admit felt closer than my own.

I tried to regain the things I lost the year right after in Grade 11, and I'm still not exactly sure how well I did, but it was the year I actually felt like someone who was capable of achieving notable things.

The two months before Grade 12 was when I was isolated from nearly everyone but surrounded by even more was when I felt true loneliness and had caught a fever that showed me what delirious was like. I wasn't sure what I was doing when the school year finally started, I had to give up a dream to reality. It was slowly slipping from me anyways, so it wasn't as painful as it would seem.

It's been 3 weeks since my graduation from high school and I'm the most lost and confused I have ever been. I'm going in circles and I'm tired of ending up in the same spot. I want to move but I don't know in what direction. I haven't decided what sort of person I am yet, maybe you know and could tell me.

This is my evaluation.

I'm a prisoner of war for nothing.

There's whole generations fighting out there. For success? For love? For life?
People have always said I'd never make it. I'm not meant for greatness, I'm not destined to become one of them. Guess you ought to get your armor before we clash.

Strange how when we're finally facing each other on that battlefield, neither of us can remember what we're fighting for.
I think I'll put down my sword and drop my shield.

In reality, we're just a couple of kids trying to stay alive.
In dreams, we are alive.


Life Cycle


There's this girl. I'd like to say who she is, but that would make this difficult for me to write. So there's this girl.

She's pretty typical, enjoys shopping, eating sweets and worries about needless things. She delights in cute and cuddly creatures, soft pillows and colors. On weekends she likes to snuggle under the blankets until noon when the day is most alive. She cares for her hair like a second pet next to her cat that keeps her company when she sleeps and painting her nails different colors makes her jubilant. Happy is her goal.

But she has this problem. She tends to set herself up for disappointment. Her daydreams drift too far and she loses her stability. She makes herself believe in things that won't come true but convinces herself until the very last day and very last moment that it would happen. And when it doesn't, she's crushed. She'll sulk, and she'll mope. She'll cry, and when she cries-she cries. Then, as if it had never happened she'll do it all over again with a smile.


That is the awful life of a girl, naive and dumb.
A girl I suppose I could now call me.


Am I Someone To You?


Its kinda funny how we take certain things to heart.

Have you ever been a nobody before? Just another pair of lungs taking up air? It leaves a pit in my stomach, so empty and so cold. Nobody gives a damn about her, especially the one who should have the most.

Have you ever found a light in that pit? One so warm and compassionate that chased away all that darkness? She held onto that light-her new family,never again did she want to go back for she was finally someone.

Someone people cared about, someone people saw. Someone that wouldn't be passed or ignored. All it really takes... is just one person.

Have you ever felt that light dying, feel the tenderness dwindle away? See the glow get eaten alive by the shadows from before? It's sad to never be acknowledged, but to have a taste of that hand pulling you away from the wall, the light finally falling in your eyes and to be pushed back to the same place as before is a tragedy.

And when that heart is torn up from the same feelings they tried to get away from from the start;
I just want to ask, is it still funny?


Sick & Twisted


Sick. So so sick. You are.
Disgusting and sad, yet so hurtful.
I have finally met you, the fucked up people Luis tells me about. Those who take self pleasure in bringing anyone down. The ones that laugh at someone else's discomfort and pain, reveling when you can amplify the torment. You are built from mockery and control. Your eyes seek only weakness and your ears deaf but to the lament of your victims.

That's what you are, sick and twisted, so sick and twisted...
I wish I could take every last tear you left me with and gouge what "heart" you have in your rotting flesh of a body. I hope you choke on your malice and it shreds your throat open from the inside out.
You repulse me the most.




I think I'm afraid of going to sleep. Because thats when secrets aren't secrets anymore, when the only thing that protects you is darkness and even that is something we can't trust to keep our raw self from the things that want to hurt it.

Its actually probably not even that, but the insecurities that keep swarming my mind while I lay there and jump from thought to thought without clear reasoning. I can't focus anymore, or maybe there's just nothing for me to focus on.

I believe its just the realization, as I'm propped up against a pillow on my bed in the lightless environment. The low hum of the computer, the silence from my phone and the emptiness. No matter what, when you fall asleep you are utterly alone-in mind and sense-until you wake up again.

I used to love playing that card game. That is, before I was aware of how alone I was playing it.


They'll Listen


I sung for you one time and you were so quiet after the song was over. I asked if everything was okay and got silence. I suppose I'm used to receiving nothing as an answer but it still hurt. Eventually you lifted your head and told me you've never heard anything like that in a while, "How do you do it?" 
It was my turn to be quiet. I used to have a dream that I kept chasing. You looked so sad and broken in front of me, so I took your hands in mine. "Listen," I say softly, and you do. That's what makes you the first person I look for when I'm standing on that stage in front of hundreds, thousands and millions.

"I used to be the kid that nobody cared about, you just have to keep shouting until they hear you out."


Its Never Fair


"If you're lonely, put your finger there and I'll think of you"

I want you to look at me, and I'll look at you. You might smile or you might not, but you can be sure I will. 

We spend a lot of time; talking. I suppose its a bit expensive-words can be quite costly these days-but we do it anyways. We get what we pay for, don't we?

My mother tells me its bad to swear, but for you I will. I swear I'll cut across the gray skies and color them blue by hand. I'll push the corners of your mouth up for a smile. I'll have chicken pot pie ready for you whenever you're sick. I'll lose my heartbeat to hear yours one last time. And, I'll always have my hand ready to pick you up again, even if you take someone else's instead...


The Suggestion


Maybe we'll start feeling the air fall, maybe I'll finally get to hold the warmth of your heart in my hands, and maybe the moon will be too bright but it won't change my mind.

What an exquisite voice!
I suppose if he suggested for me to eat the fruit, I would have without a thought. You should know that I rob, I don't steal. We're all sinners here, promise.