I love you.

I wanted to take care of you

You never allowed me.

Sitting, contemplating of the precise words to use in my articles. It's the usual. You're the usual.

1. For you, I rewrote that postcard so many times. You won't ever know until I surrender myself to reveal this to you. And I've hated that I've revealed so much already, with thoughts pouring into the idea that our space would be filled. I quickly shift my emotions involuntarily to whichever contact you make, yet I've managed to think you're somehow worth it. I dislike seeing how those around me are in the same position as me, yet I intrude this sort of commonality with a cut that spreads hope for different outcomes. I can't take this but I can't reach for you so bluntly. I imagine what I want to happen, but instead receive excuses on why you should leave. I don't even want to question you on your own truth, your current emotions have been salient anyhow. I want you to let yourself be loved. Staying over with you is one of the most memorable and enjoyable moments I've ever had.

Your seams were undone. I tried, and all I wanted is for everything to be the way it could have. After trying to tie up the loose ends, in hopes of crafting a new piece, you started tugging the threads a little too late and I began feeding off every one of the flecks you've sprinkled on me. Why now? I keep taking and taking, and the more I take, the more you're warmly nested in my mind. I'll leave things to be. I'm not intrepid enough. And if I were, I would be terrified unconditionally.

3. At the moment, there's some sort of hanging guilt for not necessarily knowing what to release of you. I guess it's not even so much that I have anything to say about you that I don't want you to know about. This is mainly what my posts are for, except you know so much already. I enjoy my time with you so much and am gradually growing attached to you. I've yet to know where I stand with you, although the idea is clear already. You provide much more security than I could have ever imagined and are something close to ideal with just being yourself. I love you.

Quelquejour

Regardless of how hyped up you are, how excessively positively reviewed you are, how your magic is no secret (via public opinion), how all of your picturesque locations induce anyone to tears of disbelief in your beauty, some day...

This blog has definitely transformed into something now required to contain depth at every post. I like it though, and I don't care if any of you readers mind, let alone, even read what I type. I'll let this post be dedicated to various people whom will surely never read what I've to say about them, maybe they'll know some other time.

1. I love you, and I used to not get along with you that much at some point, but it seems like our separation brings us closer. I'm not sure if you feel it, but I know that I do. Maybe you should know that pessimism doesn't help. To be honest, you dragged me down and a few others to such a low level that all we settled down to was apathy, and closure. I understand that distance is a barrier, but you can not repress yourself for it. If nothing rises, then nothing rises. You simply accept it. However, you manage to complain and if things don't go your way, there's nothing in between for you. Learn to not look at everything either black or white, the world doesn't suck. Neither does your life, for Christ's sake. I'm not going to acquire your qualities anymore. I was too unsettled perhaps for as long as time can remember, but I think I creaked open a door. I'm hoping that you find at least a tint of fulfillment soon. I'm always here for you.

2. You're the only one I have the easiest accessibility to at the moment. However, something we both lack of is fun. When someone's missing, our whole environment changes. I'm sure you're aware of it too, and most of the time you're the one I least know has any feelings present. We open up to eachother, sure. I think you're still trying to find your way through.

not done with this yet