So I've decided

That I'm going to give up hoping for the world to be a safe place.
Because evidently, we're all fucked.
And it's really hard to find hope right now.

So I think

this is the first actual blog-like post I've written.
I never really thought of this as a place for straight-up personal thoughts, in a way that it's just like I'm talking to the internet. (Hello internet).

And seriously this is really weird because anyone could read this, and I know some of the people that will (Hello followers) but it's like I'm just talking to the internet itself, which is basically the universe. Nothing is sacred.

But all that aside, the point of this is I think to have a post that has my raw thoughts, written before I make them all nice and fancy and self-proclaimed 'poetic'. Also I cbf making a tumblr which seems to be the real place for this kind of aimless meandering outlet.

SO! Long story short I don't have facebook on weekdays, and it hasn't bothered me until now, but today is one of those days where I really want to talk to someone, and I have already spent the majority of my credit on said person. And I didn't mean to get myself into this, but I think everyone has at least once known that person that just makes them smile. And you could talk to them non-stop and not notice that several hours have passed, and you haven't done anything productive in that time but made yourself happy. Which I think should be far more important than English essays and Art backup, but there's high school for you. So I'm currently rather unhappy, and expressing this unhappiness through this here blog. Evidently.

However, I think the moral of the story is that it's definitely possible to have too much of a good thing. Not getting what I want is in turn good for me, because I don't want to be desensitised and start taking this for granted, and to make my parents happy I'm going to throw in that I don't want to fuck up year 12 and should be utilising my time doing homework and other such laborious activities. Basically writing this has made me realise I need to suck it up and stop relying on other people to make me happy, but I should still let myself be happy if that's what my brain wants. Or something. I have a feeling that last sentence was totally unrelated. Yeah? Mad.

Now, goodbye followers/random blog readers/stalkers/internet/universe.
If you like this post, let me know so I know whether I should write another one some time?
Or I can stick to my usual sentimental crap.
Choice is yours!
Well not really, because this is my blog.
Goddamn this was a bad idea.

la maladie

It frustrates me that you can't see how unhealthy this is.

And I don't mean it has too many goddamn calories.

le vingt quatrième

What's wrong with me
What's wrong
Why can't I do it
Why can't I stop
Who is to blame
Who can help
Where is the problem
Where is the answer
When did it start
When will it end
When will I realise
Sometimes it's easier
To ask what's right

le vingt troisième

There are the millions of people you will never talk to,
quite simply because you will never meet them.

Then there are the thousands you will never talk to again,
though you won't even notice.

There are the hundreds you will never talk to again,
for you can never seem to find the courage.

There are the dozens you will never talk to again,
no matter how hard you try to say the words.

There are the few you will never talk to again,
as a result of your own hatred and pride.

Then there are the ones you will never talk to again,
because you will never get the chance.

Those are the ones you will miss,
and those are the words you will utter to the universe
because there is no one else fit to hear them.

So when you talk to those ones, don't just talk.
Speak.

l'impossible

And just like that, you did what you said you never could.

But then you never really had a problem making the impossible possible.

le vingt deuxième

I didn't think it was possible. I was certain it wasn't. I had prepared myself for everything but this. Yet you did the one thing I never expected you to do. You managed to turn it all around. I was so certain, so sure. I didn't think anyone could change that. Least of all you. After all, it was your fault.

But you, you, in your own way, came along and threw it all back in my face. You lead me to believe things could work out. That things could be perfect, and I was doing it right. And in one short week, you reversed the roles. You hurt me.

I never knew you could really do it. You know - really, actually do it. But you did, and you really fucked it up this time.

And just like that, the lyrics weren't a parallel of the thoughts running through my head. They were your words, written for you.