To fall in love, is to willingly permit intrusion into your life. No longer in my memories are the existence of past relationships, or the slightest remembrances of what this crazy little big thing feels like. My heart has conditioned itself to transition into a morbid beating piece of flesh. Love, of late, has become a grotesque of a loose verbal giveaway.

The apocalypse of his ever-ready departure has thus remained me in a sea of debris, one of causing this colossal hollow in me. I am no longer a person and I no longer live and am dispossessed of my greatest ability.

Night has prostrated before me, and I claw deep within fragments of brokenness for a touch of familiarity of emotion. You were my true first cut, and deepest it indeed is.

Obsessive justifications demean one's character. If there is no misdeed swept under your sleeve, there is the absolute need of zilch to instantly justify your actions. And once you find yourself justifying more than needing be, that's probably when you need to make attempts apologising instead.

The week off work has been incredible per se. One outing lead to another, likewise for the parties.



















If it feels beautiful, it's breakable. Beauty is perishable. Do yourself justice and know better, than to count on beauty.

I ran out of faith. I ran out of tears. I ran out of love. And now I've ran out of excuses to give anyone for mistakes that they make.

Whee this is fun! (:

Make up: Maira
Photography: Farhan

A beautiful boy made my night tonight. The simplest of joys are the deepest.

Grieving is essential and when the the mourning pain subsides, bittersweetness lingers. You carry it with you as your personal cross, a burden that establishes as another package of baggage. It doesn't make you any larger of a faithful skeptic, but it transforms you. The past revolutionizes the way you become, and inevitably today will eternally be scripted as past the day after. When this stageplay of mental suffering is done processing, strength will be your fundamental upperhand. Appreciation for the goodness of your own well-being follows. These will direct to a coming time, when grudges flicker out and all that are left of ill feelings will be waived.

There is time for grief, and grief it was time for. Indeed, there is a time for everything. Now, to set a good eye on a better tomorrow, in earnest hope of never having to relive the inhumane despondency once more.

Feelings matter. And I will continue feeling whatever that needs to be felt, until someday, I am fundamentally happy for the long sail.