evil like a hobit

parallel

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 12:23:32 GMT

the more I fish around for connections
the more I feel like I'm just letting them go
does that make sense?
I got an email today
Another rope untied
Something like that.
The more I hang on to things
the more I think that I'm hanging on to them
because I'm losing grip of a few others.
Does that make me some sort of whore?
Maybe.
Nevertheless.
My desperation is like dull eyes
deep waters
rusty blades.
Something like that.
**

I love blogdrive. Blogdrive and Makati.

**

I promise. I'm not going back to the ledge. I couldn't. Parallel lines will not meet, but they can get closer. Still parallel. Just less proximity. I don't mind that. In fact, that would be perfect. I am granting your Christmas wish despite the fact that I love crawling in to my ledge and sleeping and rolling in it.

anchor.

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 03:15:18 GMT

Well, I've started talking to myself again, so that's good. That's the great thing about Makati; it pulls me back to that space where the air is all tense and free and mixed and swirly and the balance is so tightly achieved that it feels damn good marching on the tight rope. Maybe there's a hint of masochism there or something?

Anyway yeah. Conversing with thyself again. I seem to like being crazy, for some reason. It keeps me sane. *shifty eyes*.

My self says hello. And I said hi back. And we had a wonderful conversation about gender-benders.

**

For the most part, I don't really care much about the amount of information I let out - 'secrets' if you will. Trust is always a tricky thing to talk about because there are all these different ways that people can misunderstand it. The way I see it, trust is there. But the moment you let go of your words, you're going to have to be ready to accept that they aren't yours anymore, and anyone can have their way with it. So. Secrets are secrets. And I don't talk to just anyone. And those are the people that I trust. But I don't talk to anyone about anything unless I know can let go of my words. So I don't talk to anyone about anything unless I've resolved those issues.

And it feels like being in that movie (ESSM). Rewinding, fast-forwarding, twisting into all different sorts of permutations and stuff. But it's all good. Like now. It's all good. Does that make sense?

damning myself to purgatory in more ways than one

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 12:40:24 GMT

Thanks for the flight back down to Earth. And I'm not even being sarcastic, I swear. Repentance is the name of this entry's game. Yeah, I know. Strike 2 is a bit too much for the same crime. And I wish I could say that it would be all good eventually, but I know that's being a bit too loose with things, and it might possibly have sprung up all these unnecessary possibilities. So. I'm just going to do my best and be a good girl. I don't like getting your disapproval.-.- It makes me feel like a child. Sorry, again. But I have the feeling I shouldn't be saying sorry to you more than I should be saying sorry to someone else and to myself. And thanks. No worries, I'll fix whatever needs to be fixed when the time comes, with the least possible bloodshed. And speaking of bloodshed. Ninja Assassin.:D

**

Stalking and getting it out of my system.

**

in other news

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 05:57:03 GMT

I guess I'm pretty glad - or can be pretty glad - that people don't have much faith or trust in my ability to discern things. Bad for the ego, good for most other things. And what is ego anyway?

Mazikeen

Half of this red velvet is yours
And the other is whose to keep
and whose rules are we to follow
in the lightning-glaze

hell is the blisters
of a kingdom unruled
the dampen heroes
fueled with the sordid business
of each other's pain
and you're already out of it
up there in the Outside
in the crashless city
with the chair outside the gate empty
open to me
and this is how it is

*this is yet to be finished.

remote controlled?o.o

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 15:41:07 GMT

I am not entertained
by the weak-willed women
and the foolish men
and the stories on loop
strings begging to crawl into each other
this annoyance with all this repetition
is toxic

When did this blog get so damn angsty?-.-' NO MORE! LIFE IS GOOD GODDAMNIT!!-.-'

line break

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 14:34:30 GMT

The whole area is suffocating. This whole space in time is suffocating.

In reference to..

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 14:29:42 GMT

I hate not being infallible.

word vomit. 2009.

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 14:43:20 GMT

Love is a tricky thing to write about. Personally. It's just too intertwined with all its other components and I'm too intertwined with those intertwinings that when one thought comes, it quickly finds itself buried among the others. Hence the lack of posts. I'm too caught up with my own thoughts on the matter that I find it hard to write about anything substantial. My folders are empty with half-written prose. Must. push. against. this. mind. barrier. More than ever I feel like Yamada. Second season. I don't hate it; hate takes up way too much energy for me to want to contain it in myself. I'd just actually like it to casually drift away. But the problem with the stories I cling on to is that there's always this external figure who comes along and slowly fills up the buzzing space. But I refuse to feel any better that way. Waiting for someone to eventually take up my attention is like being in the hospital and waiting for the crutch to help me home. The crutch is used. And I'm still walking on one leg. Why can't they ever be ok on their own? Why do they need to give in to the distraction anyway?

I keep on going back to Wikipedia half-expecting the stories to progress differently.

shen ma?

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 15:01:17 GMT

It comes at me like the season. In full-force. Unforgiving. And despite the cyclic repetitions, still completely by surprise. Is it negative times negative? or negative plus negative? Which one was it that worked again? I'm still blurry on the mechanics of it all.
**

I am finding it harder to write anything lately.

**

hmm

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 01:42:52 GMT

The dreams have been getting more and more draining lately. It's strange.