2004, christmas eve
Went through so much years’ loneliness from family, companion, love, somehow, I got no feels that take me to a permanent peace. A senseless peace that I even don’t have any feel to anything, anyone, any meaningful stuff that a normal being would feel some…
Maybe I had shouldn’t come to this world that absolutely made for someone like me! I hear no sound when in a chaos, I taste nothing as I eat, and I feel none while doing or touching something that used to be counts for others. Am I dead inside my heart? Maybe, maybe I’m dead long ago when mother fall from stairs which made her heart far pain than her physical did. Maybe I already gone into this endless nightmare when I had past out long since I was about 6. Maybe maybe maybe, life full of piles of maybes. I wished in a Christmas if St. Nicholas still exists; take my all but tears and feels, and my dream which I belong to…
I am not myself. My sell is not my own. I am I! I am I! But how? How should I explain then you will know that I am not mad? I just do glad if someone would thrust a sharp knife and tear my heart that has already been torn with thousand wounds. Lest I should live so awkward, so dilemma, so like a virgin slut!
Take me all, my lord
Take me dreams that no more fantasies
Take me wing lest I should soared
Tear me hard and fork me pieces
How dull with vile seam
For nothing than me really dim
Take me, all my lovely Narcissus
Torn me with thy image reflects thy beauty
But I rather love thy soul than thy vases
How come thou lovest me with sinful duty
Take me to thee when all stars fall
With thousand kisses then take me all
Dream. Dream. Sweat dream! My dear…with thousand whisper and thousand calls till I got worn. Nothing better than loving you…and you tender voice.
Maybe I had shouldn’t come to this world that absolutely made for someone like me! I hear no sound when in a chaos, I taste nothing as I eat, and I feel none while doing or touching something that used to be counts for others. Am I dead inside my heart? Maybe, maybe I’m dead long ago when mother fall from stairs which made her heart far pain than her physical did. Maybe I already gone into this endless nightmare when I had past out long since I was about 6. Maybe maybe maybe, life full of piles of maybes. I wished in a Christmas if St. Nicholas still exists; take my all but tears and feels, and my dream which I belong to…
I am not myself. My sell is not my own. I am I! I am I! But how? How should I explain then you will know that I am not mad? I just do glad if someone would thrust a sharp knife and tear my heart that has already been torn with thousand wounds. Lest I should live so awkward, so dilemma, so like a virgin slut!
Take me all, my lord
Take me dreams that no more fantasies
Take me wing lest I should soared
Tear me hard and fork me pieces
How dull with vile seam
For nothing than me really dim
Take me, all my lovely Narcissus
Torn me with thy image reflects thy beauty
But I rather love thy soul than thy vases
How come thou lovest me with sinful duty
Take me to thee when all stars fall
With thousand kisses then take me all
Dream. Dream. Sweat dream! My dear…with thousand whisper and thousand calls till I got worn. Nothing better than loving you…and you tender voice.
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