Today is not gone to waste.
The sun was still right above my head when I knocked myself dead, I knew I was still alive when the sun already said its goodbye for the day.
Fragility.
The uncaused hurt and reaching out and dying for help.
I've always known I was fragile, but for someone else to point it out for me,
is both freeing and petrifying.
May my heart remains breakable, but never by the same hands twice.
I dreamt of lovely things while I caving in and hiding like a coward.
Like a figment of an endless landscape of pink tulips and wind blowing the salt smell of sea to where I was standing.
Like the inevitable promises that everything present here, the friends I hold dear, will eventually leave. For now, they are mine to rely on, to hold close to.
There is only so much thinkings one could do before they are weighed down by the crushing burden of it. I have so much of those right now that it's like each one thing on my mind is represented by a colour.
A colour mixing with another colour and another then another.
What I'm seeing now is just black.
I don't even know which colour it was in the beginning that painted this picture.
I swear tomorrow, I'll write of happier things.
