i bought a fake rose.
i was supposed to dip it into the clay.
but i didnt.
it was suppose to be painted bright red.
but i guess pitch black is a more suitable colour.
i left school halfway through.
i was supposed to dip it into the clay.
but i didnt.
it was suppose to be painted bright red.
but i guess pitch black is a more suitable colour.
i left school halfway through.
i was staring into total oblivion.
and as my vision clouded,
i sat by the river side,
in my realm of doubts.
its weird.
seconds, minutes, hours.
things changed.
from the perfect,
to the intangible to the touch.
its hard to be platonic,
when feeling creeps around.
its easier,
easier for not me.
im not looking forward,
to meal time.
im not looking forward,
to anything
to anything
.....
im dwelling, again.
why...
i hate yester-day.
i love yester-night.