A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Don't Get It
Blows my mind. How is it that I can tear up so easily when watching a heartfelt movie or deeply engrossed in a book, letting it reach me deep inside; yet, when I readily am wanting to cry for myself and aided release, my eyes are dry.
hi, with warning. i am entirely damaged and crazy with masochistic tendencies and an addictive self-destructive personality. but i am in the trials of self-recovery- though thoroughly failing in the process, here's to hoping- one day- someday. in form of pure tried articulation of the written word, this space keeps the highly erratic and darkly emotional self reflection of my contemplative life with bits of sunshine scattered in between. i am a mess; i absolutely create disasters and inevitably fuck everything up. so decide if you are one who actually thinks and chooses for his own mind or one who is fated to predestined cowardice, forever running away like the rest of the narrow minded sheep in this world and unable to embrace the violent and bittersweet storm of harsh realness.
Sylvia Plath:The Bell Jar Janet Fitch: Paint It Black Suki Kim:The Interpreter Charles Bukowski: Sifting Through The Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way.
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