drug locket

I got home from work at about 12+ and had the sudden urge to ransack my wardrobe. So I went ahead and started digging up my old clothes. Yeah old clothes like jeans from 3 or 4 years back and tops I bought but have almost never worn, or have never ever worn up to this random day. I can still fit into my 3/4 year old jeans. HOW AWESOME IS THAT. Im not meant to grow up, let me be forever young. OKAY Im kinda hyper at the moment which im sure is pretty damn obvious. It happens, this kind of shit happens. If it persists I shall be wearing my random clothes out tmr, and probably regret by lunch (which always happens it seems). Guess what, the microsoft word can actually edit photos. Like alter the colors and stuff. Im photoshop deprived! Actually im just deprived of a computer, and im still leeching off bee by using his laptop. Check this out!

Eh quite coolxzxzxzxzxzxzx man. Im craving for macs. WHY WHY WHY. Hungry. So hungry.

Loneliness seeps through the skin,
it eats into your heart.
Until there’s nothing left to feed,
until it’s torn you apart.

And you feel like you’re on the edge,
with your heart out in your hand,
Watching the world move onwards
abandoning you where you stand.

On my way to work today I saw an adorable old man. You know those who smile faintly under the sunlight and wear a soft expression? Those that get me thinking what would happen if one day my parents and even me start growing old to become so too. Then I feel a stinging sensation in my eyes, I’m about to tear, brimming with overwhelming emotions. He’s struggling to climb the stairs, half dragging this metal supporting-arm-rest-thing (I have no clue as to what its called). I wonder why not one single person stops to help him. Why? Because they are in a rush? Because they simply can’t be bothered with the hassle of helping someone? Or maybe its cause they can’t be bothered to be patient or delicate? The world is indeed an ugly place isn’t it. Makes you wonder just how shallow and empty we all are, how we are all just pathetic little pawns in god’s game of life, vessels that pass through time and eventually turn into dust.

So I stopped walking and I hesitate. I’m not all too comfortable with approaching strangers, but this man just seems like a sweet old man I can’t help it. I carry his metal supporting-arm-rest-thing down the stairs, and as i expected he thanked me, still wearing that faint smile on his face.

I wonder at times how people measure their lives. Should we measure it by love? By how many loved ones we have around us who truly cherish our existence, our presence.

I wonder should I fall ill right now(critically ill), how many would be by my bedside while I die?

I wonder should I slash and let the blood drip from my veins how many would even care?

I wonder should I stand in the lane of a moving car how many would risk their lives to save mine?

I wonder should I be banished how many would fight to bring me back?

I wonder should I be a slave how many would rescue me from the cruel fate?

I wonder..but what’s the point in wondering? For I think I know the answer well. It mocks me seemingly, haunting me with what I fear the most. The facts I refuse to register in my brain for I cannot imagine the pain it would bring me. Its poisoned me I think. Engulfed my heart somehow when I least expected it. And I can’t hide from it cause its burrowed itself deep into my heart and settled in. Its planning to stay, or so it seems.