absolutely cynical

why is it that so many people can just love and love and love and they get to stay together forever? do people really find their one true love or do they create one?

how is it that a couple can love each other so much without going through any real difficulty?

where do they find the goddamn cheerfulness?

what about love is so endearing?

why is it so difficult yet so acheivable? IT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.

now i see that you can only truly love when you do it blindly. you can’t think and you can’t complain, you just give it all and hope you never have to be too disappointed.

so honey, this is one way that you can love me.

the catch.

why do we allow ourselves to fall beyond our control?

and it’s true that the empty vessel always makes the most noise. we must learn to strike a balance between mourning over our losses and praising our own efforts.

what are you afraid of?

fear can materialise in many aspects. it is more than a shadow that moves like an evil spirit; it is the song you sing in your head over and over again that you can never seem to get rid of.

the most alarming of all is the one that eats you, the part of you that cannot be controlled anymore because you have already handed it over on a plate to someone else. and yet you are still intrincately linked to that part and everytime it is sliced or cut or butchered or trampled upon you feel it at some point in your chest like an itch that you can’t scatch, because that portion (which no longer belongs to you) is being slowly devoured by your mistakes, arguments and the times that you could have bore it down but you didn’t.

so my worst fear has come true like a charm, that one day we’ll find ourselves with nothing to say, and words will be no more than syllables.

Protected: this world is too small.

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it’s just that my journal ran out of space.

“Life and death, energy and peace. If I stop today it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I’ve walked, which was to hell on earth, heaven on earth, back again, into, under, far in between, through it, in it, and above.”- Gia Carangi

here was the world’s first supermodel, all feisty and screwed up, much loved and much hated, died of AIDS due to her shooting up heroin. and she would imagine that as a beautiful girl in a beautiful house with the most beautiful hair, one day people will stop using her for themselves and she would run away.

this was her last cover.

so the trouble for us is really to find out what we want more- a life more intriguing or a pretty plain meadow? and after three years in this godforsaken media course, here’s what’s left of me to go through the rest of my days.

so sometimes i would really like to be a dainty little housewife because i’m so tired, but still i would rather not have him say, “let’s save up and one day we’ll have our own place together”, or that he would promise me something nice.

because i’ll end up spending most of my energy thinking about when you are going to fulfill everything you say, and that exhausts us both even more.

i’ve never thought that one day i would be in this position, to have the world to trample on only to taste dust. i’ll always be just a kid since i always feel so grown up.