Tired

Just tell me what you want to hear and I'll do my best to say it. I'm tired of this mind fuck that you're putting me through. Seriously, after years, perspective is diminished. Not sure if you're looking for something held in the eyes of the inexperienced and one who hasn't been though what I have.

Off the edge

My mind is a deranged - a car speeding along the dirt road on the side of a mountain, sharp corners and blades of the knife turns. Soon the car will careen off the mountain, it is only logical. When that happens, the real fun begins.

Why girls fuck writers & why writers don't mind

They want to be immortalized; they just want to steal their youth.

Doldrums

City stinks for human waste. It's decaying. The people in it are merely tending to the gangrene wounds. I find myself trapped between this world and the whatever lies in way for me outside the boundaries. I don't know who I am anymore. A man or a myth; when the alter ego takes control of the wheel, it's chaos. I cannot do it anymore. There must be something else.

Constancies

One girl I feel like I'm holding back from her full potential, while the other I urge to move forward. One I hold on to dear life, while the other I tell her she can find someone better, someone who'll give her all she wants in life and all she deserves.

How can I tell my friend she deserves better when I don't even give better to the one I love?

May cause some insanity

Paranoid. Struggled with my own sanity. Focus man, focus. Half of my life I wanted to please you and keep you happy. I want to love you the way I did in the past. Now you're just broken and I'm the one who dropped you. I'm sorry. I really am.

Artistic indifference

I should've gone out for photography (some material NSFW; sign up might be necessary).

Suicidal

Sometimes, I feel like just killing myself. The only thing that stops me, however, is a simple question: Who will piss off people if I killed myself? It's really counterproductive.

The Final Days

Today is one of those days when life is just not worth living. I'd like to imagine a girl out there, several miles away, thinking the same thing. I'd also like to imagine her hanging herself. What's more morbid is, I secretly want this girl to live next door to me.

Father

My father isn't an enigma. There isn't really anything to understand. He loved my mother and he loved his children, it's just that he loved his addiction more. A day that doesn't go by when I don't reflect on one thing: No matter how much I try, I can never live down the fact that I am just like him - a man who hangs onto his addictions no matter what.