Ever thought if there is this line running through your mind, out of your door, through the roads and onto the streets. To places where you have traversed, countries you’ve seen, to the café where you first sat heartbroken and all alone… Shedding the very human emotions through tears that accord to your condition. This line rewinds the hands of time and brings you back full circle to the person you once held dearly. These mangled lines got entangled with the people that we used to call in present tense. Now, only to be converted past the thin line of life and death. And along with those are some others who had passed away in our hearts…
I’ve always thread on these tapestry of thoughts, trying to recall and reminisce the failed relationships I’ve been in. The sensation of being in love; the care and concern from an opposite sex that deliquesce any negative emotions of the human condition. Love is something so spuriously real, yet we still yearn for such prevaricated social adulation. We indulge in this astigmatism; like melted visions, like melted hearts, only to awake with nothing at the end of each revelation except the chastened pain of our credulity. Perhaps everything just melted, evanesced into oblivion, or perhaps the other just robbed us of everything when we are blinded by their affections…
This line that brings me back to her, the very line that rives and shattered my heart. Tugging the very heartstrings that I wanted to cut off someway, somehow… To break off from the thoughts of her and the feelings attached, to sever myself from the very human emotions that made me weak. This line of thought still lingers round the circumference of her… For even after so long, the picture of us is still facing the wall…
I’ve always wondered how it felt to be a player, to be someone who could give and take emotions frivolously... To be someone who could fall in and out of love within the span of a day or a week. But the social stigma seemed to have gotten the best of me… For I am just a mortal, strung together by something so tenuous such as memories…
I’ve always thread on these tapestry of thoughts, trying to recall and reminisce the failed relationships I’ve been in. The sensation of being in love; the care and concern from an opposite sex that deliquesce any negative emotions of the human condition. Love is something so spuriously real, yet we still yearn for such prevaricated social adulation. We indulge in this astigmatism; like melted visions, like melted hearts, only to awake with nothing at the end of each revelation except the chastened pain of our credulity. Perhaps everything just melted, evanesced into oblivion, or perhaps the other just robbed us of everything when we are blinded by their affections…
This line that brings me back to her, the very line that rives and shattered my heart. Tugging the very heartstrings that I wanted to cut off someway, somehow… To break off from the thoughts of her and the feelings attached, to sever myself from the very human emotions that made me weak. This line of thought still lingers round the circumference of her… For even after so long, the picture of us is still facing the wall…
I’ve always wondered how it felt to be a player, to be someone who could give and take emotions frivolously... To be someone who could fall in and out of love within the span of a day or a week. But the social stigma seemed to have gotten the best of me… For I am just a mortal, strung together by something so tenuous such as memories…
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