updated confession of my hectic and heartbroken being

been lying low for a couple of days. people came into town. people who shouldn't be here. people who shouldn't know I'm here. so called in sick and held shelter in my stinky motelroom. last night i ran, again. now I'm in a new place. but only for a little while. the people are still around, I think. the thing is, I don't even know what to do. I'm so paranoid that I have cut my hair off and dyed it.

my reflection is crooked. weird homemade hair, dark pale face, and a to-skinny body. have lost like 30 pounds. and it's all their fault. god, I need sleep. a parkbench 'll do.

"I am sorry"

Saying those three little word that are used to often makes people jump to the conclusion that it is a message of love over used. I do not. There are three little words that I have been hearing all too often. Three little words that never helpt. Three little words that never healed. Three little words that never where true.

If you are told something often enough it loses all meaning.

abandoned on my terms

I thought I could release the endless pain and I made a move I thought was right. I had a chance to stop the fight but I looked away. Because I'm far away from everything I knew. But all I see reminds me about you. Face to face, body to body, voice to voice. I go on and I pretend. I had it coming because of my lies. But I'm so afraid that I'm wrong and you're right. I don't want to go back again, never again.

clair de lune, a masterpiece by debussy

I guess anger runs in the family. at least I am trying not to act out on flesh anymore.

we are born wet, naked, and hungry. then things get worse.

whether at home or away, whether kids playing or adults chatting, whether alive or dead, they were always locals, and I will never be.

the cold turns my skin red and makes my scars plopp out purple like bruises. my hands looks like someone elses. i want spring, it's easier.

First the colours. Then the people. That is how I usually see things. Or at least, try to see them.

People only notice the colours of a day at dusk or dawn, but for me it is perfectly clear that a day is flowing through a variety of shades, for every moment that passes. A single hour can consist thousands of different colours. That is how i usually see things. Or at least, try to see them.

My rescue is my distraction.

the footsteps imbedded in the ground of my new path will become the solid foundation to my future