Writing #2

A little piece of that reflection I saw,

Cracked and it's vines continued on,

And on until a defeaning sound was heard,

Crash, said the fragile mirror.

Hopes and expectations that lasted so short,

Reality takes over and becomes my best friend,

As the cold lonely night seems to arrive,

I shudder in bed with silent cries of agony.

For dawn calls as it nears 6am in the morning,

Nowhere near to collapsing into a slumber,

The first night that began almost ending,

Bringing me into a spiralling cloud of storms.

Lost

There's so much that's hidden behind the picture, behind my picture. This is beyond anything I had predicted, I definitely fell off the track.

What captures the innocence of our generation nowadays? It is no longer seen, felt or believed. Extinct to a point, maybe. We indulge in stories that influence us to believe growing up is easy once you know what you want to do. That fun will slowly walk its way towards you when you're all grown up but in actual truth, it's not.

I am now in this haze where all I see is a vague life stretched upon my eyes. Deprived of motivation and inspiration to do anything, I lay on my bed waking up everyday, thinking maybe i'd find the meaning of life by fucking staring into a white ceiling. Lost. Guidance seems to be rather far away, if not, just can't be bothered to be helped. Not too sure if you're with the right individuals, or the wrong ones. Time moves in a slow pace, waiting for me to accomplish something. And while that happens, I just .. keep doing things without thinking.

I need that fucking push.

Enjoy,