Dear Benevolent, Transcendent, Omniscient, Supernatural force of power.

I'm feeling quite broken, (oh, my I do indeed like this font.)
My day is consisting of waking up, barely eating, breathing and brushing my teeth.

Stupid, seemingly insignificant neccessaties.


I'm lucky really. I'm just not feeling like seeing what I do have, and being grateful for it all at the moment.

I feel too enveloped, consumed by the pressing matters at hand, around me.



I wish I had a Knight in shining armour.
I'd be one grateful Damsel in Distress, but ofcourse I'd be slightly too Freudian for it to really work.
Sure, I could look pretty in a profile picture.
But despite the photographers efforts, it would always remain as Not My Best Side.


The wonders of poetry and paintings is quite glorious really, isn't it?
I laugh at the fact that so much Beauty is suffocating me, and yet I do not, or refuse to see it.



I'm nothing spectacular, but I'm sure as Hell magnifiscent, in my own little, slightly, okay humongous weird way.

Fade in. Fade out.

The Self composition of one's soul.
Am I walking on mine?
Are the steps that I force myself to take only dragging me backwards?
The reminiscence of my history is haunting my Conscious moments.

Am I allowing myself to become consumed by the things I should by rightly have let go?
If so, what is my justification for it?

Is my I.Q of 138 ever going to get me past this small box of which I dream in?

Is 'life' just one huge allegory, an anagram of what the 'Real' world is to be like when we eventually leave here?

Should I be wearing my heart on my sleeve? Or writing Love on my arms?

TO be or NOT to be something spectacular?
Am I just another face?
Or is there, indeed something magical about me?

I babble on and on, yes, indeed, I do.

And am I a cynic? Ofcourse, I am.