ash like snow ;

roses are grey, irises are white

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Breathe.

Isn't this beautiful? I wish I could melt into the picture and be that girl.

I stumbled onto a beautiful blog, which happens to be from the creator of my current blogskin. I was all D': about it, then I browsed through the creator's other layouts to see whether she had any other nice ones. The link was there, and I entered her blog.

Wow. Beautiful, thought-provoking pictures. Little snippets of text that were deep and intriguing at the same time. Shapes, colors of various forms and hues.

I used to be able to think like that, to have the sky and the earth within me. I could be self-absorbed and read long fics, write poems, dream as much as I liked. I'd hope of love to come, a really handsome, popular guy to fall for me, irrevocably and passionately. We'd live happily ever after until the end of our days. Even now it is the same, except that Prince Charming took on the more precise form of Choi Minhwan. The handsome drummer of a Korean band.

Dreams mix with reality and become a realistic dream that is impossible to get out of. Something one doesn't want to get out of.

When I think back, my whole life goal was to love and be loved XD; So corny.

Then life happened. I started caring. I became afraid of being judged and began to second-guess myself all the time. Every day is an odd feeling of not being myself. I can't. Somehow I've lost that fire. The flint in my life has all but disappeared. I'm always with my family, but we're pretty dysfunctional. Not broken, no - but that really depends on how you look at it. Eldest sister living not too far, but returns home once a year. Second sister which is a Grinch and difficult to please and be with. Parents that I feel regard me as a disappointment of never wanting to study. Where are my friends? I don't have anyone anymore. They're all far away. I can't seem to reach them anymore.

Then there's FT Island. There's beautiful, gentle, silly Minhwan. But he's a dream. I must keep reminding myself of this. I always seem to on my blog, don't I? The reason is this: it doesn't work. He's glued to the inside of my skull with super-adhesive glue, and to take my escape from reality away is like taking away my drug. I'm addicted, hopelessly. Because they're the best. FT Island is the one and only. I have nothing else I have such passion for.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm revived - when I'm outside enjoying myself. Shopping. Experiencing the world. But my parents will be there, putting down my naivete. Yes, I spend on impulse. But only on cheap things - rarely more than a couple dollars each time. They think I'm gathering rubbish. But I just want to be happy. I like new things. What's wrong with that?

I have no space to myself. Yet I'm afraid of being alone. I am alone.

I need to know people. I NEED to. But with this face, this skin that I tear off every single day - how can I do that when I don't even trust my voice? Or my face? How can I stop myself from all this self-pity? HOW CAN I DO THIS? I just want to go back to the time before my brain was poisoned with self-hate. I want to be innocent again.

See? It's starting again. You computer addict. You're useless.

Don't you ever wonder why I'm so addicted? Because I feel that my electronic screen knows and understands more about me than you guys ever will. Is there anything else you want to know?

12:58 AM | back to top

Love.

Someday, I wish I could be your sunflower.

Why?

So I can brighten up your day the way you brighten mine.

Rewind