Ocean of Emotion

You are a tool
but boy,
I can never work you.

You have the spark
But son,
I am always afraid to touch you.

You own the lights
but hey,
I like it better off the sky.

You are nothing
But love,

.............

I am incapable of ending things like this. Halfway along the lines, I would freeze and cringe a little. Sadly, I love the feeling. Of never ending sadness and dreams.

Enjoying every break of your own baggage is something everyone should indulge in.

It is amazing how one cannot help to catch the tears without having voices stopping the time of the loved ones. A fascinating friction when you burst into an ocean of emotion once you clear off your mind. A strong urges of pretentious suicidal effort when you cannot seem to get the feet together.

I am of sentimental bones, and I appreciate such gift.

There is a line from some film that goes something like, you are too intellectual to be sentimental, or something like that.

Though I have the sappy bones, I did not receive any consideration in letting me inhale the courage just to let others know of my feelings. I do not even have the strength to inform the people around me of the very existence of this tiny box of clutters. I am too afraid of others interpretation of my feelings, which hurts me even more when they cannot get into it.

This is not for me to impress anyone. This is for me to find someone who could tell me how he or she feels when he or she tries to read me. To read my life. I want others to try to break into the state that I am currently in. Not just read the signs blindly and tells me how uninteresting they are. It is never about putting a new interest in you, it is about pulling the interest off you.

Once you are interested in something, you will automatically ‘enjoy’ it, and I do not wish for another lonely life catcher to enjoy me.