There we go again, sweetheart

"Hey guys, remember what I said yesterday about how I've been spacing out lately? Well apparently now I've gone and gotten myself some existentialism crisis. Hope you can help anyhow. :("

I'm not even remotely joking. That was a real message I've just sent from my phone. Funny how these.. crisis, are coming and going as casually as some seasonal colds. Maybe I'd better off taking Biology back in school, just to teach myself the names of the hormonal enzymes that are causing them. But then again what's the point.

... I really have to snap out of this anyhow. I'd do some routines, but then again my eyes are getting heavy at this hour.

....

Oh hey, wording it actually takes away some of the gloom. Alright. Pages it is.

When things get bad

When things get bad and milk turns sour,
friends get busy and some are lost.
Promises are broken, words vaporise,
pillars crumble and skeleton stabs back.

Ink dries up and tears too,
feet feel sore and your heart too,
each shoulders turn cold,
each breaths turn to snorts.

Scratches turn to grazes,
wounds are stretched open.
When spits turns acidic,
curses are veiled with gothic lace
laced with poison.

When night falls and moon vanishes,
stars are shot, planes are landed,
farewell are said, strangers no more.
"Good Night"s are exchanged, then
hope is reborn. We carry on.

"Understanding other people isn't hard. It's impossible."

So one second I'm thinking too much, and the next moment I'm thinking too little. At one point I'm at fault for not verbalising all the nitty gritty details about basic neatness, and the next I'm blamed for nagging. Again, what's new. Girls.

If every teardrop is a waterfall, then every paradox is a plot point.