kisses. hershey’s kisses?

The touch of his lips on mine,
send jingles up to my brains and down to my toes.

The touch of my hands doesn’t turn things gold.

I turned, I searched, I huddled up and cry.
and I lied.

today ended well.

oh, no it isn’t special. nothing big happened, there wasn’t any surprises, any happy incidents, or accidents.
it ended well, mediocre or normal.

happy halloween people. i’m going as a muggle from harry potter

self-doubt

i’m not sure what i see through the lenses are good enough. maybe one day i’ll realize what i’ve been doing does not suit me at all. am i trying to persuade myself that i actually do have something that i’m interested in?
i’m not sure.

i feel uneasy. i feel like tomorrow’s going to be the last day.
and not forgetting to mention, i was inches away from death yesterday.
am i experiencing post-accident trauma?

i have no idea. i need to cry myself out of self-pitying.

anticipation. loneliness.

i know the end to the story. i’ve been there.
i felt the darkness of loneliness sucking me in,
even when the night is filled with short-lived sparkles and colors.
i watched as people pass me by, with big wide toothy smiles on their faces while clutching hands, escaping the cold.
i walked alone down the lane, with the chilly winter wind that rustled my hair and brown maple leaves that became my only playmates.
i hastened my pace, felt that my legs were giving out.
i hastened my pace, felt that my heart could no longer stand the pain.
i hastened my pace, to get away from the grasping hands of loneliness.

i hastened my pace, to find my love.

梦想

常把这两个字挂在嘴边
已经不知道要用什么态度去看待它

有时候
只想回到以前的日子
从新选过 要走的路

Can you see the end?

How long will this ordeal last? The uncertainties that taunt my mind day and night, that drag the last strength and breath out of me every night, that dwindle with my thought process and make me lost in the mazes of my mind.

With the story still untold, I cease to breathe, to think, to live.

Sunday.

I have been thinking of giving up lately.

Because I’m tired, mentally and physically.
I’m tired, of you, of you, of you, of you, and of you.
and of you.

of you. i don’t want to talk to you.
i don’t want to face you right now.
say i’m childish, say i’m immature.
it doesn’t matter.

i’m tired. of you. and the way you behave.

Boys will always be boys.

no.1
很久以前，总觉得他很爱哭
长大了以后 只看过他哭了两次
后来发现 眼泪流在他心里
唯有一次再看见他哭
是离开的那一天

no.2
小时候 觉得他酷酷的
有一种大哥的风格 的确是大哥
从来没听说有喜欢的女生
一直都扮演大哥的角色

no.3
有时候觉得他很无聊
时常说些有的没得
但是那只是他逃避问题的方法
才发现原来他最爱对人唠叨 说道理

no.4
嘴巴有点贱 但是其实人很好
时常被人误解 但是因为固执的性格
也不愿意和别人解释多
有时让我觉得不知所措

no.5
觉得他很吸引人
可能应为他不爱说话
开始觉得他可能和我一样
才发现我也顶不了他不说话的时候
有时他的回答 会让人很伤脑筋
让我觉得好像我做错了什么

no.6
成熟的男人
有一种会让人多看他几眼的魅力
就算是在树影下抽根烟
都觉得 很迷人

no.7
成熟的男人
原来也有恋爱的第一次
傻傻的看着女人的眼泪 不知怎么办
紧张着 自己的眼泪 也掉了下来

如果我能

如果我能
把烦恼写成一篇一篇的文章
然后把它们烧掉
或许现在会更好

如果我能
把感情写成一本书
我会慢慢得去享受
慢慢得想起 那些喜欢过的男孩