look at what the light did now

smoking nurse / long-distance

unkempt hair, glassy eyes
suffocated by the demands of other lives

---

I wonder what the world would be like if it were filled with only people like me

---

Perhaps it’s the dreary weather or the way the sun sets so quickly, but lately I’ve been feeling a little down. I looked up seasonal affective disorder, which is oddly enough also known as both winter depression and summer depression. The symptoms listed were: a lack of energy, difficulty concentrating on or completing tasks and an inclination to withdraw from people and social activities, none of which I have experienced. Instead, I seem to have developed a strange obsession with running. I read somewhere that people tend to develop obsessions when they’re trying to replace something. I’m still not quite sure what I was trying to replace; home or family perhaps, or some rose-coloured version of the two. I often find myself missing things I’ve never lost - yearning for memories I’ve never made.


My mom recently started using facebook. In her profile picture I look like a very caring son. The internet is a strange place - a one way mirror - a room you can enter unnoticed and unannounced, only making your presence known when you feel ready to do so. Social networking sites are even stranger. You can let in as many people as you feel comfortable with, having virtually complete control over what you share and what you don’t. Old classmates, fresh acquaintances and distant relatives alike all pass through our personal terminals, carrying on with their daily lives; a part of but also distinctly apart from ours. Some live across the hall, others - halfway across the world. Every page is littered with tiny windows into alternate worlds - ones with suns that don’t set so quickly.

apopheniac

---

her voice is like clear water
whose shimmering ripples echo
and cause my bones to shiver

hit and miss

fencing is a very precise sport, though some people do choose to just charge in and take their chances
you have to wait for an opening, or create one, and once you see a chance, you take it

---

I wonder if I'll ever get tired of talking to myself


Me too

artery

Never quite realized till now how closely the bare branches of trees resemble the branching avenues of our biological streets

forever stallone

too perfect for any man she is forced to roam
every night, destined to be

fool's goal

I always thought getting old meant letting go of your dreams, but now I know it means having the wisdom to know if a dream is impossible and having the courage to find a new one.