for now

i'd like to get that feeling like you're
talking to me like im
here and its then
when i heard you say
its summer
but cobwebs dont glisten in the sun.

like im stripping naked boys of
their lies and shame and pride with
words no stories nor facts
just words to cut up their silly
rhythm and i'd like some cake
to go with the fuckyous, thank you.

and d'you know i dream of placating
winds of changing directions
of deranged prisoners and i
get that feeling of walking
summers, streets, snow,
dust crawling through the gaps between my toes
pulling out as sheets of phantom mysteries behind my back.
and i dream of me working in the sun,sweating
sweating like they do outside
my windowpane,
like the fluids have an easy outlet
easier than this.


i'd like to get the feeling like you've read me,
fed me, having tasted each morsel before offering me
a sin, but i'd know what's forbidden
but i'd like to forget
though i dont really know anything about this at all.

like ive just glutted on straight lines
that refuse to curve or bend
and get stuck like the swirling
lines of songs i cant remember, coming from
the other end jammed in my throat. glands can be myths
meant to scare, just myths i like to
think up faces staring straight at
reveries i cant fit into.

but you see i dream
of getting the feeling like
i can hear you and feel something
something else anything
at all as long as nothing
doesnt butt in, as long as
i know there are secrets clumped as
cobwebs in my shell
and i can tell you that i'd like it
when the sun dont matter so much.

i dont know where this comes from.

[edit: 00:04, 20th april]
i think i like goodbyes, i think i play hard for them, hard but fair.
subconsciously. we had two, roughly. glances, both, and brief. maybe somewhere a heartbeat sputtered, but its hard to tell, its more of a fake vintage photograph peeling off my brain. textures, always. like a memory not built entirely, too hard to remember, but impossible to scale. i liked your nose and i never got that litttleboy smile i had saved in my head,the one i stole off pictures of you with strangers and mist.maybe you've killed it don't tell me what it is or maybe you've hidden it away in scripts for dreams to be played on some winter midnight don't ever sound like you did then, please. but its not anymore,i think i've seen snatches of who you could be but who pulled em down?
maybe that's what makes pretending easier maybe that's why you need to pretend at all.

..hide a while inside your smile
and it's going to be spring again..

happiness was never this game, but i played hard for a goodbye for maybe ,
I'm just too used to it.
------------------------------------------------------



if you were smoke and music
and two years ago,
those eyes of summer couldn't have
made you fade like the purple of my chamber,
the purple off the walls.

no more my favoured alphabet soup
my swell my beat no only
just six letters and the ceiling sometimes just a floodplain
left when i look away, bare walls of stars smart eyes no more.

peeling candies off the sky, spring seems
long gone but
if we were those two and
one on a branch
if you were more than a draft
i'd wish you into the thick honey evenings
of dreams and sprinkled stardust,
moon at sticky fingertips still
no want of water no wilting moments just
those which settle politely in my lungs and
drip


inhalable and fluid in that lovely way..
if you were smoke and music.

blue, blue nights

.. for im all alone,
ill blow myself a few fullmoons..

photomanipulation, by the me.
stock credits:

girl:http://trixypixie.deviantart.com/art/oui-my-love-80565068

and i dontremember who from i took the stairsandthechurch stcok, forgibhe me. hence, i didnt put it up on dA, i couldnt've credited proper.

and this is a pic taken a fewmonths back i think, the night when the moon was suppossedly closest to teh earth in (insertcorrectnumber) years. a very crappy cam, 1.3 MP if you wanttoknowthetruth. fullview might make it better.

..how lonely are we tonight?
Like mirrors that lie,hidden inside a woman's past.
-The Shayon.


p.s: for those who i havnt already bugged into checking out my dA and flickr account lately, please do so.plisplis :D

Fullview, please.

Egghead.

egghead. by ~weevilgirl on deviantART
because im an egghead and in case you dont get this, you are one too.
collageishthing.

Asima.




ok so the girl thinks you hate her because of her facial asymmetry.no she dont think that's teh reason you hate her, but THAT is the reason for her thinking so. such people exist, yes.she doesnt, but whatever.and they dont let her fly a kite cuz of that. :[

and she's called asima.


and my life does not exist beyond teh virtual realm, and even that is being curtailed now.
terrific, aint it?

and i havnt learnt to say sorry or thank anyone when one deserves it. so what am i to do now?