Forgive me, I'm empty. 

And I want you to need me.

Architect

The persistent pursuit of a state of longing

Drew to an abrubt end at the corner of your mouth

Like an arsonist starting fires on a whim or perhaps propelled by a quiet rage

You burned all the ropes of my resistance

Singed me so pale white flesh marooned

It sent me reeling at first but then I remembered that day in science class where we learnt that everything is perception 

That's why hot is hot and cold is cold but then nobody could classify the neutrality of your spine as you sit, pen in hand, unaware of my stolen glances

A Frightened Rabbit inspired random poem that popped up in my head along with thoughts of you.

1+ = 0

It has become fashionable to lament how fast time has passed. I'll admit I am flaunting sentimental as if it were a butter-soft leather biker glistening with hardware, and I am beckoned to lean in and inhale the seductive overtones of hide and subtle hints of sadness. While flipping through memories like a mental photo album in my head is charming, a more sinister thought would be amidst the myriad markings people have left on me, have I left any on them? The thought makes me a teeny bit sad, which is my favourite emotion to translate into a blog post. It makes me think about how we're all a little idealistic, painting these vivid landscapes in our head from what little we interpret from what surrounds us, from the most fleeting moments with the people we interact with. It's sad how those moments that have somehow crawled their way into your neuronal passageways and decided to nestle against a nerve and never budge, tunneled through another's brain and went out the other ear. I guess you never know. So just like that I don't know what to expect on my last day of school in SA. Tears? A possible over-exaggeration. Handwritten cards and gifts? A long shot. I thought of baking something for everyone but my hesitation probably stems from the fear of it being deemed silly against the backdrop of nonchalance demonstrated by some. So I'm just going to bring my blank canvas on Thurs, void of expectation and hopefully I'll end up with something beautiful to take home, I mean that's the single most important rule in life right, expect nothing? But nevertheless, I am feeling slightly nostalgic which surprised me because up until today I only managed, at best, perpetual loathing for this place but perhaps like every person you love to hate, love still is an element no matter how much it is overpowered by sordid intentions. Somehow I'm still going to miss my morning shock-to-the-system in the form of the sudden sprinting to the track and chanting in my head going shit shit shit I must look like a bloody idiot with my hair bouncing and are my thighs wobbling fuck and the priceless moments in lecture and tutorial where I laugh about stupid things with my classmates and you know we don't do reckless crazy stuff like playing with fire or climbing out of school(science kids are practically allergic to misdemeanor) but somehow manage to form our own craft of lame jokes and stupid moments that earned a place in my head and that, I'd say, is quite an accomplishment. And despite all my warnings against JC education and SA and ya dah ya dah I will still refrain all urges and keep my two fingers curled where they should be on my lap as I drive by the scalloped walls and know that those 2 years gave me some amazing people, unsurmountable lessons in perseverance and just maybe it wasn't such a bad idea choosing to come to SA for the uniform, and maybe I can safely say..

No regrets. 

Now I can't wait to burn my uniform.

sublime

I almost couldn't recognise your face til your mouth filled with words I could taste

We're just waiting for something real
something that'll make us feel alive

My last 4 days have been in a tremendously dark place. My brain felt like it was being pushed through a sieve and my stomach, wrung like a starving boy's desperate attempt to summon the rivulets of water into his mouth from a barely damp cloth. It was the very feeling of having the luxury of rest given to you but knowing you should not, and cannot bear to welcome it. And maybe that was the only thing standing in my road to recovery. I don't quite know how I managed to sleep 4 days away completely. But during the in between moments where I am conscious(and when I am not being smothered by love thanks hun) I have successfully managed to cultivate the most vile hatred for medication and circumstance and came to the knowledge that the harmony of the two could have me on my knees quite literally. Antibiotics had me nauseated every minute of the day with a bitter taste in my mouth because of some problem with bile ducts and what not, sleep barely refuge from my suffering with the countless nightmares and voices. I also made a mental note to never cry lying on your back because having tears dripping into your ears is the oddest sensation. It seemed all that was functioning were my tear ducts, pain receptors and mind playing strings for the devil, and the two were hand in hand, coat and tie, mocking my physical system of a stumbling. I'm happy to actually be head bobbing along to Blank Maps now and not want to toss my cookies and I'm finally starting on my stockpile of homework.

Fingers crossed I survive the next week of mock papers, bless my soul Jesus.