this night, my words bled tears

there are moments when/words just don't accurately describe the pain./searing?/heavy?/unthinkable?/piercing?/silent?/hollow?/and you can't even begin to wonder how to start/a litany/of yourself - /a psychological-somatic-eternally-emotionally-biased/answers to the/whys and hows of your life/and your entire being/because when you stop and think about it/reflect/look back in retrospect,/you simply fucking FAILED./YOU failed/that one person you unequivocally offered your breathing to./you failed her.
you're incomplete,/your words just don't seem to/reach her in/you sometimes,/no, you always/wish the letters/all eight of them/could unscramble/themselves/to form more meaning/a much deeper/deeper/deep/meaning/so much more meaning/than the obvious/for her.../and for you/too.

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2/365

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Project365: 1

It's a new year and I decided what better thing to do for the new year than to do my own project365?

What I decided on was Everyday Kiss Shots with my bestfriend/partner-in-crime/girlfriend. And here is Day number 1. Hopefully we make it through till Day 365 :)

:)

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A lot

of my friends in facebook are changing their profile pictures into different cartoon characters they liked as a kid.

And I feel so giddy opening my account. My news feed are filled with different uber-cute cartoon characters! :) I miss my childhood. Hm. Then again, who doesn't?

I just hate them fucking eye sores, them kjs who wouldn't change their pictures. Boo you all. Boo you! May you be haunted with the ghosts of your childhood past. heehee, lol. Just kidding :)

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I wanted

to write and rant on a new post, on this post, on this new post.

But then I realized I wanted to write on paper, instead. So maybe later, or whole lot of laters after, I'll transcribe what I've written on paper.

Because I miss paper. and its blankness. and its clarity. I miss how you don't need a squiggly red line under your words to know something is spelled wrong, or a green one to tell you something isn't right, the thought, the idea, doesn't seem to come out clear.

But what I miss most on paper is that editing yourself is a lot easier. Writing and re-writing is a lot easier because the words are still there. Written over by a couple or so lines, yet, they are there. The words are still.

The words are still. The words are unmoving and moving at the same time. The words are there and yet they aren't.

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