My flow of coherence is very much distracted by fatigue but all I can say this very moment is, awww.

I'm so so so so so so (you get it now?) upset and peeved off. Camps, fucker of a tutee, pre-menstrual syndrome at full charge, whatever you can name, it's pissing me off.

Way better than Viceroy. Less nicotine content too!

Wanda was obsessed with the blings, so I followed suit.
Introducing, my favourite mirror by far. She's Wandaful, really. St Margaret's versus KCian.

For so long my life's been sewn up tight inside your hold
And it leaves me there without a place to call my own

And I feel the cold wind blowing beneath my wings
It always leads me back to suffering
But I will soar until the wind whips me down
Leaves me beaten on unholy ground again

So tired now of paying my dues
I start out strong but then I always lose
It's half the distance before you leave me behind
It's such a waste of time

'Cause my shackles
You won't be
And my rapture
You won't believe
And deep inside you will bleed for me

So here I slave inside of a broken dream
Forever holding on to splitting seams
So take your piece and leave me alone to die
I don't need you to keep my faith alive

I know now what trouble can be
And why it follows me so easily
It's half the distance through the open door
Before you shut me down
Again
Let me introduce you to the end

Though you know you care

And my laughter
You won't hear
The faster
I disappear
And time will burn your eyes to tears

My horizons have turned vertical. Wow, words to shackle my dungeoned heart, wow. Say hello to pessimism.

This internal battle is raking up old debris and the present is reconstructing the detailed contents of my past. The stillness of tonight's quiet is raking established significance of the wholeness I've been luxuriating in. You had your signature smile on and it was my remedy.

Joy almost feels immortalised, and I've only got you to credit and thank.

Hippity hoppity you, I miss you sweet sweet boo.

So alright, that was a lousy and cheesy attempt at a poetic rhyme, but nonetheless, you're swimming in the oceans of my mind at this unearthly minute. You seem to be an unveiled enigma and my days with you sticking by are endlessly bubbly. You even make my aching feet tap a peppy dance to Scissor Sisters.

I'm left amazed. Now tell me, how do you do it?

You make me smile

Please stay for awhile now

Just take your time

Wherever you go

Nothing really lasts, so here is now, and now is deliriously soaked in contentment.

Although our love has turned indifferent, I still wish the best for you. Please be happy. So if you're thinking I'm gloating over your misfortune, I'm setting the records straight and letting you know that I'm not and I won't. I'm still here if you ever need me.

It's a Saturday, there is a supper outing tonight, almost every movable muscle of mine is down with aches, my system is in dire need of nicotine but my throat needs otherwise, I'm blankly rooted at my desk pondering on the next sentence I'd write. I thought of your face. Just a smile did the trick and in all honesty, I'm puzzled.

You're tearing my fears apart, and I fear that the most.

The rosary's placed on my bed, next to my night's head-rest. Every passing day, I pray for the urging of belief and the grace only God can grant. You've never been left out in them. Faith has disciplined my grudges. The syndromes do relapse from time to time, but I know those four years have come and gone. Sometimes, when I lay my head back and spare an extra moment to dwell, it still stirs hurt. "All in time", I was told, and 'all in time' happened, I just failed to trust then. I've lost much, but I've learnt more than I could ever have imagined.

I'm sure the Old Man up there is grinning with glee that I'm down here feeling blessed with every ounce of chance I'm given to relive my previously assumed wretched life. It's seldom that I express any form of gratitude towards my faith and I'm glad that I'm doing that wholeheartedly.

And tonight is another night I know I can rest my body and soul at ease. I know I'm in good hands and in the most tender of all loving care.

One should never be too carried away by the gathering bustles of life, when contempt breeds opportunity and appreciation only manufactures in quavers. My walls stopped falling down on me and journey's narrow alleys are lit with blessings, grace and hope. The cottons of overcast hang an arresting kind of beautiful. The rest of the world closets itself from the horizons of soft drizzles.

But amidst this solace, I am reminded of the surreal sorrow of my four years of past with you. And that's how I know for certain, that we're better down this separate path.