sometimes i wonder if i show the world how broken i actually am
will they still love me as i am

Yes, this blog is turning into something so emotional I can't stand. But, these posts are beautiful to me because it contains my very raw and unedited emotions.

"Grief is big part of who I am,

it lives in the very bones of me,

and so does love."

Woke up reading some other people's perspective of life,

and I keep hearing your voice in every corner of my head to tell me to not be so pessimistic.

Funny.

It reminded me of how I was there even when you're an emotional wreck,

and now you're living me all alone in this fucking suicidal day dream,

crawling and desperately finding my way out to end of this never ending tunnel of my own darkness.

I can see you looking at me,

with no remorse, no guilt and no pity.

You never took my emotions to heart.

"There she goes again."

I hate how vulnerable I portrayed myself,

foolishly indulging myself in the thought that oh he knows me the best.

I wake up every fucking day with the conviction that

I will move on to be a better person,

and I will have all the love in my heart to love another individual.

bullfuckingshit.

but feeling like half dead and barely alive 

is not the worst.

The shittiest is

feeling all the shitty feeling

and wanting to be better

so you might take a good long look at me once again.

FUCKED UP. 

And I promise I hate myself more than I hate you.

Because I didn't care about myself, the day you didn't care about me.

Magic strings

Every one joins a band in their life, some of the breaks your heart. 

Read the entire book of the  magic strings of Frankie Presto, and I don't know how something so dead keeps me more alive than living things does. Cried at happy parts, and felt neutral at parts where I am suppose to weep like a baby, fucked up emotions. 

There are many parts that I read over and over again, like how the lowest key of the guitar sounded like death, not because it is closest to heaven, but it is because life will always drag you to the bottom. I demand silence but the lowest key kept strumming in my eardrum.

Anyhow, there was this one part where I read over and over again.

and then I asked, "When was the last time you were home?"

and he said, "I don't really have one."

and I said, "Everyone has someplace they call home."

He held up his guitar.

"All I ever had was this," he said, "and her."

This set me thinking. Home don't abandon you, but what if it did? 

Is that a home to start with? Or am I incapable.

I came up with this theory;

Sun comes with moon.

We are always chasing the sunset, 

beautiful sunset,

forgetting that night falls right after.

In the wind, the universe whispered,

"Balance, my dear."

Sun comes with the moon,

so does laughter and cries.

Cries are louder than laughter,

most of the time I can't hear myself at all.

and that universe said, "balance, my dear."

as I plead shakily, "but I am falling."

Noise comes with silence.

We are always creating noise,

some people play real loud,

forgetting that silence fall right after.

In the noise, the silence screamed,

"You can't hear me, my dear."

Noise comes with silence,

so does memories and experience.

Memories are louder than the experience.

most of the time I cannot delete any of them.

and the silence screamed, "You cant hear me, my dear."

as I said coldly, " I hear you oh too clear."

So the sun hang high

and the city buzz with what I call noise.

Making laughter and creating experience.

I am happy,

that's all I ever wanted,

at least that's what I thought.

Then the sun set

and the city turned dead silent.

Weeping over memories behing closed door,

I am alone,

that's all I ever learned,

and it repeats.

This is the universe.

Just because you laugh, doesn't mean you're happy.

Just because you laugh, doesn't mean tears don't roll at the same time.

Just because something is silent, doesn't mean you aren't hearing it.

Just because something is silent, doesn't mean you forgot about it.

this is the universe,

punny as fuck.

Reading this book made me realised, the walls I build to help me stand. Not very keen on tearing them down,

not sure if I can anyway.

Love now, is an empty cell filled with an air called 

pain.

I am sorry family and friends,

I don't love you all.
Everbody joins a band,
sometimes they are the wrong one
and sometimes,
you start again.
but all I wanted, was to go home baby.

Eat. Pray. Love.

“I know we have a screwed up relationship, and we will stick around anyway. We accept that we have fights, and we hardly have sex anymore. But, we don’t want to live without each other. That way we can spend our lives together, miserable but happy not to be apart.”

Consider it a testimony how much I love you, pouring myself into the offer, trying to make it work. It’s one of the quietest and loneliest places. Feels like a precious wound by the heartbreak you won’t let go of, as it hurts too badly. We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we are afraid of change for things crumpling to ruins. Then I look around at this place, at the chaos it endured; the way it’s been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to find itself back up again. I was reassured that maybe my life hasn’t been so chaotic it’s just the world that is and the only road trap is getting attached to any of it. Ruin is a gift; ruin is the road to transformation. And I am ready.

We must be ready for endless ways of transformation. Both of us deserve better than staying together because we are afraid we will be destroyed if we don’t. To have a completely broken heart, means you tried. I tried.

Sometimes losing balance for love is part of living a balanced life. I will find someone great, who wants to lose balance with me. To love, as hard as I am willing to.