you got to learn how to listen to that song without breaking down.

- from the Silver Linings Playbook

scribbles anonymous

yesterday, i saw one of my standing regrets downstairs. looking at it in the eye again made me realize how i cannot be more intelligent than the pounding sounds of the heart. more than ever, I felt fragile.

i used to think that the strongest people are those who easily let go as necessary. no, I don't mean just of people; but of fears, worries, regrets and everything that needs letting go. but then again, who can judge strength based on these ideals?

as much as I'd like to let go, i linger. the pain needs to be remembered as detailed as possible, so when I look back, moving on will make more sense. this is strength for me now; enduring.

scars breathe and never die. they're always there, like the moon that follows you home each night. then like a random thought of scars, i write these all in my head while i watch the needles sink into my skin.

there is always that one perfect thing you had to let go for the shallowest reasons. regrets, just like scars, are breathing. they're snapshots of pleasant misgivings and miscalculated chances taken.
but they live on. like blood that blots the ink.

birthday wish

so. what do i do with all these maybes?

come on, let's move on.

today I realized, that sometimes people say things only because it feels right for that moment. over time, it loses meaning until you start to wonder whether anything at all was meant.

maybe not.

emotions are but passersby in the train station waiting for the next ride. they're deceitful; they make you feel special and leave you behind hopeless and irreparable, like ice cream falling off the cone.

not everything that feels real is real, but being misled is an art.

the heart is a battleground.

don't come into my life, if you have no intention to stay.

i guess i wasn't loud enough.

maybe, maybe, maybe.

if we hope too much,
things will be different.

the smiths

i like it when it rains because i get to watch people on the streets with their fancy umbrellas from my third floor apartment.

i like this random feeling when it rains, it's surreal- like a unicorn of bright, blue clouds brought about by your what ifs that i never doubted.

i meant it when i said you're beautiful. so let's make a deal; i give you my heart and you take me for granted. afterall, i have a lifetime of broken promises to spare. i will be fine.

come, the rain has started. let's continue with this fiction as 'the smiths' play on the background. everything down below looks pretty from my third floor apartment. everything.

fear is tangible. it takes you by the hand into a whirlwind of fragile half-truths and dismay.

fear is a person. and it breaks your heart.