P-chan's messy head
If I tell you that I’ve written and read more words than I’ve spoken, would you change that? It’s not easy. I might have once said, ‘Get me to speak six hours straight, and you’ll have found a place in my heart,’ but this no longer happens. No one allows me to be me anymore. Read More …
A day goes to waste if I don’t come up with at least one meaningful sentence on my train home. Don’t you artists need that, too—a little reminder that you can do a lot better than that zombie mode that you’re in? You put all your efforts into commitments instead. I’m not allowed to elaborate Read More …
I miss you so much. The more I enhance your existence by immersing in your architectural dimension (that I created), the more alive I feel. If only I had more time. I know this sentiment is mutual, but you are holier than I’ll ever be–more intelligent, more reserved. And since I’ve been reluctantly taking steps Read More …
On a constant journey Into a non-expository domain A platform of undiscovered word arrangements The mind will do its best To unveil a new influx of phrases In order to self-medicate And enunciate Every hunch and intellection For which there is no proof Devoid of the light A malfunction of the rod cells A mind Read More …
I’m definitely not scared of attachment; I’m just not into you. And if you’re a girl, I want to show you right away that I’m a no-good friend to have. Thanks to all for granting me my space. There are currently many important things to consider, to get over with, to send to hell. At Read More …