Sunday, February 10, 2008

Sometimes I try too damn hard to convince myself such that when trails of truth come out I start to wonder if all that denial is truly my deal of escapism. And I am gutless, or perhaps I'm preserving my pride and yours, so never will I wear enough armour to look you in the eyes for answers, because as said the body language distinguishes a pack of lies easy peasy.
And the night is so hush, even the midnight buses below are so inaudible, it's a paradisiac setting for thoughts to brew. So I'm left overwhelmed with scattered, unsorted pieces of information that seem to match up a little here and there but the rest go unanswered and unexplained that it becomes impossibility and so I start from scratch with the pairing.
It's times like these the painful realization comes that the people around you stay by you through your bloody superficial times and it's souless when you just need a presence alongside for a sheer sense of consolation even if it means just a presence.
It's an angst chain, maybe my little rug at the corner where I'll place myself will aid in recuperating this mighty blown out mind.