1950

 


 

I thought I’ve had love figured out.Read More »

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Anna

Anna is an ordinary girl.

There is nothing special about her. She’s the quintessential passing face you see on your way to work. She’s not particularly bright, but she’s never bottom of the class either. She’s good enough to get into a good school, but never the best.

She’s good enough, but never the best.

She knows this. Just as she knows her features are never gonna be good enough for magazine covers. So she tries to compensate by taking a good care of what she put on her face everyday. She knows no one is gonna look at her bony, yet strangely chubby body and hum with appreciation. So she tries to compensate by taking that extra time on compiling what little she has into something resembling a good outfit.

Maybe if she looks good, she’ll feel good too.
Maybe if she buys enough expensive clothes, she’ll feel like she’s actually worth something.

She knows she’s superficial, and she doesn’t care.

Anna cares about music, though. She cares about books. She thinks if she listens to enough interesting songs, maybe she can be as enticing as the melody of the songs she likes. She thinks if she read enough book, maybe she can be as magical as the characters in the books.

Maybe if she’s dancing her night away to a cheerful song, it means that she’s happy.
Maybe if she’s absorbed enough by her books, her problems will cease to exist.
Maybe if she fills herself with these fantasies enough, her reality won’t be as bleary.

Maybe she will have something to offer.

Maybe then people will look past the empty shell of a girl she actually is.
Maybe then people will stop looking at her as the failure she is.
Maybe then people won’t dismiss her for once, and look twice.

But it doesn’t work that way, does it?

Because she’s not the girl you’ll look twice.

Common as dirt. Dull as they come.

Despite her efforts.
Despite the fantasies she tries to present as the truth.
Despite the carefully built version of Anna she likes so much more than she likes herself.

She can’t be anything else.

She won’t be anything else.

She doesn’t know how to be anything else.

It’s That Time of the Year Again

Why is the time flying so fast? It was December a blink of an eye ago. I can’t believe it’s March already. I can’t believe it’s your birthday again already.

How are you growing so fast?

I don’t know why I acted like I’m your mum friend. Maybe in a way, I am. Sometimes I am.

I don’t know if I still have the words to express how I feel about you. I don’t know if I still have any wish left that I haven’t already wished for you. But well, I’m going to try. I’m sorry if I sound like a broken and tired record to you.

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You know..

Today feels empty, yet again

Without you here I cannot bear

Nights and days never seem to end

Me here and you there

 

I know it’s not your fault

You’re not a problem I can’t fix

The reason why you’re not here

It’s not as simple as it seems

 

We’re two sides of the same coin

Maybe that’s why only one of us can win

It burns where you held my hand

Turns out misery doesn’t even love company

 

But still,

You know,

Today feels empty, yet again..

Sparkles and Limerence

Truthfully I was never the one

Who ran on a borrowed time

I grasped every little fleeting moment

I made everything feels like home

 

But you,

You got me drawing circles in my mind

Stories, never dull as they move around

This is a new kind of high

Even if we crash and burn

I know this is worth it all

 

Honestly I was never the one

Who jumped around a ticking time bomb

I didn’t burst into bright, hot flames

Fireworks was a waste of time

 

But you,

You got me carving lovemark on my skin

Fireworks, no time for campfire bliss

This feels like a new kind of drug

Even when we crash and burn

I know I wouldn’t trade it all.


 

Maybe it’s my hope clouding my reality,

but this twinge is a constant rapture.