sleepless night.

Probably my favorite from them.

****************************************

With the inevitable fact that I am not able to close my eyes and fully switch my brain into standby mode, I am stuck here, in a pool of words, trying to fish out the alphabets I need to fully lay out what I am thinking of and what I should write in this little space of mine.

Journeys. Spaces. Power. Lust. Guilt. More guilt.

As I drag myself into this pool of self pity, I wonder; what really makes a human dedicated to being one? What makes a human grasp on to that little hope that would fly off their buttery hands if they are not so careful with it? What sort of motivation they have to keep on living their lives the way it is, or specifically, mine?

Flowing thoughts of uneasiness are like layers of soft wind caressing my brain with its tender touch, and now, I am floating in the air, breathing in residual molecules of hydrogen and oxygen left by other humans, with a stab wound in my heart. It bleeds and cries out loudly, and I have no way to save it.

(Save it? Why not just leave it?)

Precisely.

over.

The phase is over. I am over. I am dead, a whispering mantra to the large universe that speaks to every single cell in every single being, and worn down to the last veneer of salt. 

I have said enough and done enough. Inferiority beckons me like poison, and now, I am but a stagnant living soul, one whose powers of manipulating his life rests upon not him and not anyone else, but upon the stars that has been tricking him with deceit and surprising him with gifts of joy and wonder.

I am, after all, just human.

blues

Good blues for a good day.

****

Confused.

My greatest will has been broken by words and actions of others, and now, I am left here, conflicted with many thoughts in my mind and none that would help to solve the solution.

Oh, midnight woes. It seemed inevitable that I am back into the realm of afterthoughts, of dreams and fantasies made of candy flavored desires. I can already see myself diving into this deep hole I call uncertainty, and test the waters that lay ahead. Terrible, terrible me. I hate myself, but I have to, I need to, find the truth for myself, for the chest that I left behind is an empty one.

Morality itself is fading, and the line that separates it is losing its power, making emotions and senses being manipulated, being fed by the very evil that I am trying to avoid all this while.

Please. Please. No more.

No more.

Save me. Save myself. Save me myself.