Why so blue, you?

Paint wash, immersion
in a matt blue emulsion.
Coloured in a thick coat of
melancholy that drips
Off
my skin, in big blue splotches
(Splatter),
And pollutes.
Scourging off
The bright until I am
Blue.
Inside-out & Outside-in
one solid hue.

Fumes intoxicate and
penetrate into
The Personal and
The Private.
no hidden agenda,
I wish I had one concealed,
not interfered with thus
and diluted.
Such a rude interruption,
Tea party gone astray.
Now it’s blue too.

Ultramarine pigment,
Powdered and ground into
Dust
Wave after wave after wave
Of allergies hit and
settle comfortably.
Please, go away,
My uninvited houseguests in
Blue.
This shade isn’t welcome,
And neither are you.

Feeling.

"You know, the funny sort of sadness that creeps over you when you think about the past...." She trails off. How to explain this feeling that language so utterly fails to encapsulate? It's a bubble caught in your throat, a resilient one that chokes and makes you splutter, but doesn't burst. She thinks hard, tries to think fast before her audience loses interest, she can see it waning already. So she does the best she can. "You know..When you think about the past, and then you think about now. It feels like quicksand, like it's not going anywhere and you're sinking in the pointlessness of it all. You want to go back to being a kid, because you remember playing in the neighbourhood park and Feeling Happy. Everything just seemed to go downhill the moment you became conscious of any reality that existed outside of your imagination and the funny games you used to play. How one thing lead to another, and suddenly you found yourself thinking * Mann...I really screwed up, didn't I?*, but it seems to be too late. You resolve never to feel as strongly/passionately/wrecklessly/helplessly about anyone/thing, because it's OhSoWrong. That's what it feels like, yeah."

Feeling. I use that word too much. I like the way it sounds in my head when I say it over and over again.

What's gone is gone, eh?

I don't know who I am anymore now that I know the difference between what I want to do and what I'm supposed to do. I stick to the latter, because doing what I wanted just lead me right into trouble. Sometimes I think I'd like to have that feeling back, but look what it did to me. I suppose I'm better off without it and without you, and it would be stupid to ask "Then why does it feel like something's missing?", because obviously, it takes time to get used to the absence of something/one who's wreaked such havoc in your life while being such an important part of it. It takes one word to make life pause and go on a fast rewind of everysinglething and I've been thinking about it. It makes me feel lost. In a few seconds.

If I say it shouldn't have been this way, that's a lost cause, right?

Now that I'm actually going somewhere, it seems to be a point where nothing is moving. I need to figure it all out in my head. It's not unhappiness, more like being clueless.

Are you listening?


How did we get here, I used to know you so well.
Hahah yes, Paramore.

It's not a rant, it's a state of being=\

It's just rather strange. Being accustomed to a certain feeling for as long as you can recall, and then suddenly, it goes missing. You look for it in dusty corners of the memory, expect it to be buried under some of that mess lying around, that you'd forgotten about. You find piles of rubbish, carry out a huge clean up operation, and still that feeling can't be found. It seems to have disappeared without a trace, and you're left with a new one. A replacement, if you will. A new way to look at the world, at people.

All you say is "Well, I've come a long way, haven't I?".

R.I.P - 02/03/05

You are missed.

Why does life keep on taking me back to my favourite Scrubs quote?
People are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling, and you, are clearly one of them.

Your Ex-lover Is Dead- Stars

God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour,
Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain
And all of the time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save...


I love this song. It says so much.