despondency Joana. The systematic gesture Of keeping your words saved Has startled me as I read them today There's a warm breeze in the air Which asphyxiates and tortures Your words become illegible I try to make something out of them But I can't... I avoid their real meaning... But I fight my way through the bushes And find my reasoning You wouldn't cling like I do Which must mean you don't care I've got two persons here telling me about their problems Yet they don't even care why I'm not replying They just type away The egotistic creatures that they are Well, dear You've made me cry Which is actually a beneficial action for me Little drops of a strangely salty liquid crosses the skin of my cheeks My hope has vanished somewhere Spreading its wings and flying to an unreachable destination You say your future is bleak But mine has always been so Perhaps you're not dramatising Perhaps this is merely the turning point of a bitter realisation Will I ever learn? Does it take much for me to see this is childish dreaming? Yet I can't see it Your light is so intense And it's blinding me But soon repentance will taunt me Ripping all of my reveries I'm tired... I'm so sorry... I'll leave now. 000709 ... grendel refuge in the absinthe 000709 ... unhinged or the pot or the muscle relaxers and cheap liquor 020427 ... blah-ze starting high, to find as time goes by more and more can be seen through the paint over the mess that is me: i need repairs, i am broken, to find out what i hide, people must look inside, and that is the ending seeing is believing: do i believe all that i see in me? because somehow, when you try the most to disguise it it all comes out, when you try the most to shut it away, the more it finds a way out to destroy you and make you fail: they will not believe you then, no matter what they saw in you so beneath the surface, can you find my golden heart? i see you watch me and it makes me want to tear out what i can't change, too clumsy to comfort you, too ignorant to notice the source of your pain, but i try i hate all that i am and all that i do: i lie awake and all i think about is being different, would you miss me when i'm gone? but every time i go to ask, words fail me, my heart deserts me, and i crush that which i feel back inside the cage i long to destroy would i be running still if i hid away, if i crawled away to lick the scars of wounds gone? do you hate to love me? would you stop my fall or would you understand? i can't adjust to go on, i can't find enough within me to survive, i can't be enough to satisfy, and this is why i fall away i hope you'll remember me when i'm gone 050511 what's it to you? who go blather from