Unreal

I want to be a nonexistent being, carefully commend, so as to not harm, them or myself.
Foxily marvel at the majestic people.

With their love I shall grow, only as immense imagination.

Otherwise¬†I can’t, I can’t save you from the damage I might cause.
And I can’t, I can’t apologize.
Because I might not care, at all.

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Overpowered

The tenderness of my melancholia, gently brushes my tangled hair as I am staring blankly at my life, which has been inconceivably perfect with its beautiful, beautiful drawbacks. With such peace I could, perhaps, enjoy the little stings of my incomprehensible attraction for the comfort they bring.

I do and do not want all the things I could get my hands on. And I want to be forgiven for all the subtle smiles and the teary-eyed seconds that I could never get enough of.

People are Strange, When You’re a Stranger

This morning I unconsciously talked to myself for the 62718166181907th time while walking to the toilet from my lab, and then when I was back to my consciousness and thought about what I’ve been doing, I stopped walking and talked more loudly, “Fuck, why am I so weird?” with my eyebrows furrowed.

I mean, normally I would not care because I enjoy the loud conversation between myself, I argue, I give a statement and break it myself and give another statement until it tires me, because I suppose everybody does the same. Only lately for I get more comfortable with everybody around me, I found myself doing weird things and having audiences made me realize how weird it is in other people’s eyes. It was weird, and it was not always lovely.

I mean, when a person is, just call it, a ‘freak’, normally s/he ought to have the ability to just be a freak and doesn’t give any fuck to the outcome of his/her actions (for certain extent, and it’s always relative). Which makes a ‘normal’ person is having less problem at giving attention to other things (or people), because his/her default is relatively ideal, no excessive effort needs to be done to blend into the society. This way, I think, is the only way to make it seems less stressful, because everybody can just do what they do and don’t care about what they don’t need* to care.

Which takes me to this following conclusion. Unfortunately, what sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable about myself though, is, my true nature and the amount of fuck I give to things, they, don’t go hand in hand.

Which might make you find me doing strange things and curse myself after, and when it happens, will you please kindly just walk by and act like you don’t see me?

*because everybody just has to be mature enough to know that what we want is not invariably what we need.