Honeybee

Metamorphosis
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2020-07-02 22:54:57 (UTC)

Madness Fever

My clock stands still because the battery has been dead for a few years now. The passage of time never goes by unnoticed though. It's actually one of the few things that can't escape us. Well, unless we're having fun that is.

Still, I lay in bed looking at the old simply modern clock and think of things obsolete. I remember B and his story for some reason and how the whole issue was surrounded by a ball of perfectly timed coincidences to make me so suggestable to emotion. Of course, in hindsight, it's not his fault. I'm all too accepting of a little major thing called "misunderstanding". It's so easy for facts to get lost when they travel from one ear to the other. Especially when back then, a part of your intention was to hurt. Nonetheless, I find myself, more and more rarely now, remembering that story of a cop who had an affair with a 16-year-old. Is that talked about too much in my diary? I can't quite tell anymore. But I'm allowed to express that I miss a certain time, right? Like the time when I lay on the floor in my bedroom thinking of wizards and witches a few months before starting high-school. A time when I could sit in a corner in class and write in my diary because no one bothered to read anything in English anyway. I don't know... I guess I miss having someone to talk to. What a conundrum. To need or not to need.

But hey, been trying to meet you.

I like to imagine time stops still and everyone in the world disappears. Just so I can take a walk naked and free and never worry about judgement. Ahh, how one can dream. I can talk to imaginary friends out loud and write about them without care. *sigh* I never belonged on a stage but once in a blue moon I get the desire to stand up there and shout. Oh, you know what though? I had a thought today. I listened to a particular oriental tune and imagined being in a cafe somewhere in Morocco, long after the sun has set, and I'm swaying in someone's arms, happy, carefree, sensual... feminine. And I imagined that someone to be A of all people because he gets it. He just gets it.

Did you know that C still thinks we're perfect for each other? He still cares for me. And while this entire time I was feeling rejected by him and trying to make myself more desirable and pretty, he ended the relationship for fear of HIM being rejected. What a mindfuck. People, don't get into a long distance relationship unless you know for sure it's temporary. Otherwise it just grows in a corner, from a cute little strange creature into a huge monster with tusks and bad breath. You don't want that. No one wants that. And I don't know how much it got to me. I mean, there are issues that are wasting my time but they just can't be helped. They're there.

This is a whirlwind of nonsense, most likely. What am I still doing here anyway? My friend is gone, and I'm just talking to the void.

Oh well.

Ed Sheeran songs make me puke.

I think it's okay that from time to time I write things than can't be turned into art. It's my prerogative, damn it.

Goodnight


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