changing route

i think,,
I THINK..
i might stop writing this blog until i know how to write properly..

im embarrassed

hundreds cell in our brain; part 6

im only going to marry a visionaire

ill be okay even if no one will never knock on mine
ill be okay even those footsteps never stop on my doorstep

should i just continue watching people fight at the war
or
should i stop and start doing this fucking sequence that seem will never be finished?
or
should i continue hearing couples making love, and write about it.

what the fuck is all this?
i couldnt write any longer,
my handwriting has scattered

and if you really quite, you can hear the sound of people making babies in a distance

hundreds cell in our brain; part 5

we know its not true
we know its all fake
we know its just act of pretending.
why the fuck people keep doing that?
why the fuck people has to fall for someone?
do we even really need that or is it just society pressure?
do i really need that?
why am i writing all this fucking stuff,
to be honest, i have no one to talk to..
the one that use to listen has took off not a while ago?
why the fuck i keep thinking that he's the only one who listens?
fact; he hardly listen.
he wants my body, it's a disgrace
its a fucking disgrace.
yet, i didnt stop it.
what does that even mean!!
i need to stop this.



this is a very long time since my last writing,
its not even good enough to be consider as a piece of writing.
i have no time,
too busy running away from the thoughts of you.
my body is not good enough,
not meeting your requirement.

hundreds cell in our brain; part 4

i just dont understand for those who just dont reply to messages.

i cant get myself focus
i probably need help to get there
or
maybe not.

i dont want to end up being an old lady who has 17 cats and just sitting around all day on a goddamn rocking chair.

i need a human touch,
i never thread a human before,
maybe i should.
just to give the sense of the thrill through my body,
just to have variation to my routines.
these all fucks me up.
what the hell is wrong with me.

hundreds cell in our brain; part 3

and someone is just bloody ignorant.


i longed for someone to get out of their room, and knock on mine..
im too afraid to knock on theirs,
somehow im attached, yet someway im completely detached,
that gives me a funny feeling in a funny situation,
but NOT funny at all.

i wonder if i cost any trouble across the road?
i dont know what im hoping, part of me i hope i do, and the rest... i dont know.

i hear foot steps, big one.
still no one knock on mine?
why dont i start, im bloody too nice or a coward.

i cant get my head around it,
i cant get bloody focus,
and there it goes, another door being closed.
ANOTHER FUCKING DOOR BEING CLOSED!!
why dont they knock on mine?

hundreds cell in our brain; part 2

Dont fucking touch me

i drink paint,
dirty paint,
it's dark, it's dark.
have too many colors in a cup, the paint goes dark.

your handwriting become smaller and smaller,
you have no idea how to survive without the one you love.
your loved one swallowed by the ocean's wave.
how can he breath in the water?
how can he walk in the dark water?
how could he let me choke on water? dark water.
he got tight, tight to a mermaid.

i feel like a worm instead of a mermaid..
have i look down on myself?
i guess i have,

hundreds cell in our brain; part 1

When is this going to stop?
when all this going to be my turn?
being kind not going to get me anywhere..

how could i stop this?
how do i stop this?
all of us breaking..
and it is still going..

be selfish and survive the world..
go be in a war,
go play with blood,
you have no one to help you.
no one to help you.

fuckinghell, i have to start being a lot more selfish and stopping the goddamn fool in me.
he fooled me over time.
when is this going to stop?
why cant i bloody care of someone who gives a fucking care about me!
what the hell is wrong?

why dont i fucking go?
i want to see you
i wont see you
i want to see you