And we got so close.

-kurthasley.com

Oh, Right...

I made this a bit ago. Inspiration: unclear. enjoy.

And why do i stay here and watch you swarm away into the hives of shallow hearts? Because I know one day, we will meet as more than just friends, and walk down that road in silence, because we know that words are too much, and yet not enough, because we know what would be said if our mouths could open, and so we walk down that road in silence, satisfied with hand in hand. So i will proceed in this life alone, for the knowledge that one day we will meet as more than just friends.

I can't explain the state that I am in.

I thought about you again. I find it sort of funny how these spurts lately have been about you. But what can I say, I put on your music, that has now become mine, and you we're my best friend. 

My mind wanders, and at the end of the night it comes back to you.

I want a new place to call home, somewhere distant from your memories, 

though i have this hunch that you will haunt me no matter.

I miss you. You make me happy. I'm hurt by you. Where will this go?

Siding with my demon.

I

am disregarded

I am misrepresented

I once was delicate

But am no longer loved

My lover could not handle me

My creator therefore disowned me, alas me!

The one who was beautiful, who was strong...

Lilith, my dearest love

Tuesday night.

and I'm pretty sure this doesn't come in a bigger size. Not clear on where that leaves me. 

If only... 

No. 

That most definitely would not work. Hmm...

Put on whatever makes you attractive.

The pictures. They're everywhere. They have become our identity, no longer moving beings, but perfect photo-shopped pictures. No longer artistic, but rather a stamp, to label us, to allow us to hide behind one single moment, that was most likely in itself artificial. Beneath the typed words, the silence, the picture, hides a human being with the same repulsive habits as you our I, with the same tragedies, and lies, love and deceit. Ode to the internet age, a generation hiding behind a manipulated world. 

Lost it

So, sometimes reading words that put me in complete state of incapacity, that more than often inspire me, becomes unbearably not worth it. How can a simple memory of someone be so tainted by anthers actions, so completely irrelevant to my perspective? I would enjoy some peace finally, I despise distortion.