So today was my pre birthday birthday party of sorts. Not that i'm one of those extremely popular people who have 10 birthdays thrown for them, no sir. Just that, this was actually the only birthday party i'll be having?
so it wasnt actually a pre birthday birthday party...it was a birthday party.. im confusing myself=s
Is it too much to ask for love in return for your own? To treat someone's heart like an insurance policy of sorts, it'll come in handy when hardship strikes? Only to watch the company go bankrupt, all your investment running into the ground. Your castle being washed away by the hude tidal wave. One grain of sand indistinguishable from another. Not being able to tell which part was being swept away, and it was all over, in the blink of an eye.
It takes a second. To erase ages. To wipe it all out.
And still you manage not to feel clean. The black in the board remains, and you can chalk it up as much as you want, there will always be gaps in the white. No purity, never purity. The past peeks into your present, your future, always. Waiting to come out of shadows to taunt you, not really bringing anything of significance back. Just faded, hazy memories. And disconnected dreams. While you sit, sit, sit. Spend your time staring at this and that, nothing-in-particular, because you have unlearned to focus.
You look, not really looking. You listen, not really listening. And when you die, it will be not-really-dying, because mortal existence does not count. Not when the essence is lost.
As promised, I have returned "later" to deliver the aforementioned "more", though I haven't got the slightest clue as to what it is which would be deemed worthy enough to be penned, or rather typed, by me in this sacred blog of mine.
At the word sacred, i hear that highly annoying voice in my head (no-iam-not-insane-you-have-it-too. Yes. YOU.) snorting, and saying something along the lines of " haha. sacred. no one even READS this stupid thing."
If it wasn't for the fear of blood and gore, the collision between a wall and my skull would have already occurred. Stupid voice.
I seem to have a knack for losing pencil cases. I lose one every three months, and then wander into class with my typically lost-but-hyperactive air and announce that today i shall have to share my stationary with someone. People usually roll their eyes at this, because even when i have a pencil case, the possibility of there being anything remotely of use in it is highly improbable. I need a pencil case. And a pen.