Discontinuation
I can't breathe.
-ZA
-ZA
Pretty Rain
It’s like opening up a book, with the whole description of how beautiful and pretty the world is, so so eclectic. More like dissolving into the rain - the sounds, the sights, the constant raindrops from the roof, the clapping thunder.
Maybe if you think that we shouldn’t meet in the first place is the good idea, then please elaborate why you keep on seeing me, and reluctant to let me go?
Cold
Well you told me that we could be friend.
I tried to.
And I failed.
I hate it when you call me and you make me special all over again.
Stop.
Please.
I beg you.
I am shattered.
I tried to.
And I failed.
I hate it when you call me and you make me special all over again.
Stop.
Please.
I beg you.
I am shattered.
Some Reality Check
Have I told you that this made-up pretty view of tulips and some greens with you and me laying side by side listening to each heartbeats will end pretty soon?
I couldn't believe I wrote that, because I almost make myself believe that this in real is actually happening. I mean the pictures are so vivid, and your images with your black tee shirt, and your acid washed jeans, and your sugary smiles are in front of me, clear. Like in HD.
And oh yes, I still can feel you stroking up my hair with your hands and get excited with the smell of my shampoo, and how you kissed my cheeks and on my forehead telling me that you didn't care the pimples outburst on my face, or how huge my boobies are, or how we laid down on my huge orange pillow and we talked about how annoying nostril was, or how nice the tea at Alif.
I remember when I didn't have anyone to talk to, I called you in the middle of the night, crying and sobbing and scream that the world was the place for mean people, and how bad I managed my bank account, and I missed you so much, I couldn't even breathe. You said, 'It's OK. There's nothing to be worried about and I am here for you, loving you every day, no less'.
And didn't I tell you that this all momentary? Yes, and now it is the time for all these to disperse. It's hard. Harder than I could imagine. But to quote you,
"I want you to be as strong as a stallion when the time comes. When we should bid our last goodbye. You're going to be good. With or without me. Because you always know, that I always love you"
I know. I love you too
ZA
I couldn't believe I wrote that, because I almost make myself believe that this in real is actually happening. I mean the pictures are so vivid, and your images with your black tee shirt, and your acid washed jeans, and your sugary smiles are in front of me, clear. Like in HD.
And oh yes, I still can feel you stroking up my hair with your hands and get excited with the smell of my shampoo, and how you kissed my cheeks and on my forehead telling me that you didn't care the pimples outburst on my face, or how huge my boobies are, or how we laid down on my huge orange pillow and we talked about how annoying nostril was, or how nice the tea at Alif.
I remember when I didn't have anyone to talk to, I called you in the middle of the night, crying and sobbing and scream that the world was the place for mean people, and how bad I managed my bank account, and I missed you so much, I couldn't even breathe. You said, 'It's OK. There's nothing to be worried about and I am here for you, loving you every day, no less'.
And didn't I tell you that this all momentary? Yes, and now it is the time for all these to disperse. It's hard. Harder than I could imagine. But to quote you,
"I want you to be as strong as a stallion when the time comes. When we should bid our last goodbye. You're going to be good. With or without me. Because you always know, that I always love you"
I know. I love you too
ZA
Sunday Morning
I am pursuing my life a little bit slower right now. Works are amounting and it will never end.
You may walk slow, and not being afraid of getting left behind. Because in the end, it doesn't matter anymore who is the fastest runner. What does matter is, who reaches the end line without the need to gasp for air, and happily cross the line without feeling worried to take a rest and recharge.
Who knows what awaits you tomorrow?
You may walk slow, and not being afraid of getting left behind. Because in the end, it doesn't matter anymore who is the fastest runner. What does matter is, who reaches the end line without the need to gasp for air, and happily cross the line without feeling worried to take a rest and recharge.
Who knows what awaits you tomorrow?
Lost
“Everyone of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads—at least that’s where I imagine it—there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own little private library.”
-Haruki Murakami
Addendum
I have listened to your thoughts, and I have thrown it in the bin, and I thought I was stupid because now I know, that once I throw it, it stinks with the other dirty thoughts. So for that, I am sorry. I can't salvage them anymore.
Early Summer
Don't blame me for not updating. Life is good, and it makes you forget that you have abandoned some of the things that used to make you feel good. The search is hard. And tough. And daunting.
I have found one. Juicy, succulent, sweet, smells awesome.
I love you Nate. Love you.
I have found one. Juicy, succulent, sweet, smells awesome.
I love you Nate. Love you.