while people are talking about starting revolutions.. embarking on new journeys.. the new girl in class.. i'm starting to wonder what stirs me.
realised that i'm more wounded than hurt.. more restless than tired. i tot nothing can stir me anymore. I know i still have it inside.. the music within.. the inherent purpose.. but then again.. what good can i be if i'm still me. Overrated me. Procrastinating me.
So what if you can speak? Come back when you really have something to say!
bang bang bang.. an empty vessel. My book is filled with empty pages. Tore some of the pages myself. Things written.. rather not written before.
Run.. run with the wind.. run like you haven't got lungs.. run like there's no tomorrow. But still.. someday you'll have to stop running. who you trying to kid? Who'll be there when you stop running? I tot you'd be.. but i was wrong. You never waited for me. All of you never did. You ran your own races.. in your own strides.. in your own paces.. in your own directions.. you didn't think it mattered.
I'd rather run by myself now.. in case you disappoint me again. If i happen to see you.. i'll stop and say hi. but i wont ask to run with you. Dun want the weight of this expectation to root my feet. Dun want to look like a fool again.
I hate myself for rattling on.. and on and on.. but guess who filled my pages. guess who filled my pages with grudge and complaints.. who left me like this. You know who you are.
Dun worry.. i'll tear these pages apart. what the heck.. i'll throw this whole book away.
So what if you can speak? Come back when you really have something to say!
