Sometimes I feel like opening up will be harder than I thought. I blame the world for wronging me, but it was I who wronged the world.

To make myself feel better, I wrapped myself in stories weaved from both truth and lies, and wrapped them around me like a shield. And they keep changing. Or am I changing?

You were the victim. I know that you will come back for me. Hopefully, when that time comes, I'll be stronger than you.

Let go.
Let go.
Let go.

Hiding myself behind warped, beautiful words, 'talent', that weaves truths. Somehow, they wither to lies. Because people nowadays only crave pain.

What is in me? I moved on -


right?


Gah. Woke up this morning with "How deep is your love" in my head. I was so tired, for some reason. My bed was so white, so clean, so ironic. At night, I only see darkness. I haven't been able to write anything lately, neither have I tried. And I guess its sort of backfiring on me now, because it seems to be the only way I can think. I need a new bank of creativity. The old one is torturing me to hell. Seriously.


Poetry Bang today was really good. Could have been better, more effort and stuff. There was this class' poem that I really liked. Well written, well expressed. Sent shivers down my spine and such. But they kept forgetting their lines, so...
=(


Well. They got a well-earned placing anyway. haha. Good job!