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virtual insanity

Whatever bridges I had burned have its debris stuck inside every bone and along every vein and in all the cells.

How cigarettes and coffee have become palpable poetry of today

A Night In Tunisia

I long to find the differences in the realms of each individual. Human juxtapositions are non-aligned and every single person around me has embraced and danced with this reality. I remain questioning.  

The desire to be understood, yet remain the same, has ruled and ruined me. I have yet to learn of what my instincts tell me. My dreams where I bleed and bleed and bleed do not stop. 

My incertitude and happiness cannot coexist.

People have time and again failed me even with the littlest faith invested upon them and I fail myself when I invest any faith upon people. To think all these years would have taught me a thing or two about any manner of control and perseverance.

Self disgust is a funny matter. One only channels their love to others while filth and hate occupies its crater. 

(Source: easeyourmind247, via teapenny)

one of the closest to unforgettable

one of the closest to unforgettable

The sort of happiness which emerges out of nowhere- or rather, we are not sure why it’s in the nature that it is- tends to hide sinister things under its carefree grin. It’s got dormant insanity stored away behind the cloaks and curtains hide angst the sizes of mountains.