16

I only cry from frustration.

Why do you cry?

15

Soul mates don't exist.

Ponder this. There are 6.8 billion people on Earth. The concept of soul mates means that one person on Earth is your one true love, your better part, etc, etc. Even if you met one million people (that's being very generous, there is no way you can meet one million people), the chances of you meeting your soul mate in one million is... well you do the math.

Actually, I'll do it for you. The result is 0.0147% to be able to find that one person if you meet one million people. It's technically a negligible chance.

Statistics aside, what about the moral issues? What if your soul mate is a 6 year old boy? What if your soul mate is the same sex (which really isn't a problem, but for some people it is)? There is no guarantee that your soul mate will be around your age, the gender you prefer, or a whole bunch of other issues.

Bam.

Soul mates are Hallmark garbage.

14

Moar.

Everywhere I look
Seven colours of harmony
I too wished to create such perfection
Therein began
The gentle drizzle of my search
Which led to nothing but dark clouds
Storm after storm passed
It alluded me so
Time and time again
Can we be that rainbow?

13

Moar.

Without warning
Plunged in the sea of emotion
Whirlpool, dizzying
Dragged to its depth
Slowly suffocating
If drowning feels this good, I don't ever want to breathe again

12

Moar.

Empty eyes
Distant laughter
False assurances
Shrugged caresses
Phantom kisses
Abandoned arguments
Silent words
Fading love

Did you not
Notice
Care
Wish
Once more with feelings

11

Moar.

Withdrawn, disconnected, shielded.
Thoughts swim in my mind.
Drown, drown with plain little pills.

Create my fantasy.
Release my savior.

Internal rhythm, beat beat beat.
One last time.

10

Moar poetry.

Sunshine and Happiness

Field of sparkling green

Where dreams are born

But dreams are false

Dark clouds and violent storms

Reflect our lives, our reality

No sunshine nor happiness

Only lightening bolts of hate

Flashing through a sea of darkness

Shadows chase us

Our quarrelsome past

The only light within ourselves

Extinguished

Lost hopes and broken dreams

9

I haven't written poetry in a long time. I'll be dumping one of my old poems each day until whenever. Enjoy?

Tendrils slithering, prodding
Into your brain
Forced, to think of
Nothing, no one
But him, her

A desperate ache fills your being
You know, you need
To feed your soul

Why do we allow this
Rape of the psyche
Why do we call this
Infection of the Mind...
Love?

8

Hey. Me again.

So I was thinking about suicide. Not doing it, just about suicide and if heaven existed what would count as suicide.

I thought up some scenarios that confuses me a little bit in terms whether it counts as suicide or not.

1. You shoot yourself in the head and die.

2. You smoke knowing it may cause lung cancer, and die of lung cancer.

3. You jump in front of a bullet to save someone and you die.

4. You jump in front of a bullet to save no one and you die.

5. You jump off a bridge and die.

6. You jump off a bridge and you get shot and die in midair.

7. You jump off a bridge and you get shot and you die from the impact of the drop.

8. You jump from a window of a burning building to escape from the fire and you die.

9. You shoot yourself in the head to save someone and you die.

10. You ask someone to shoot you in the head and you die.

11. You ask someone to shoot you in the head, and you tell them to stop but they shoot and kill you anyways.

12. You perform a daredevil stunt and you fuck it up and die.

13. You run across the street in a hurry through a red light and a car hits you and you die.

14. You run across the street in a hurry through a green light and a car hits you and you die.

15. You undergo a surgery to improve your body (you are not sick, you just want a better body) knowing it has a large chance to kill you and it fucks up and you die.

7

You ever look at a girl and realize all you've ever wanted to do was kiss her?

I have.

It physically hurts with a passionate yearning beyond words to resist what your body knows is absolutely right. All you're thinking about are her tender red lips and you know you need to feel her lips against your own. You want to embrace her. You want to love her. You want to kiss her.

Just one kiss.

6

This post is out of character, it doesn't have my usual narrating style.

Let's talk about suicide.

Most people think about it at some point. Maybe as a joke, maybe as an alternative to their shitty life. There are two kinds of people that are suicidal.

The first, the out and open suicidal person. Emo. Telling everyone or dropping hints about suicide. This person is not suicidal, they just want attention. Or they're joking. Or they just want help with their problem. Whatever the case, this kind of person is not suicidal. Feel free to make fun of them.

The second is the real deal. If the person hints at suicide it is usually an unconscious slip of the tongue. This is a real person contemplating suicide. They don't tell anyone. Suicide is something you decide for yourself, you don't ask something "Hey should I kill myself?" Cause obviously they'll say "WTF NO." And this type of person knows it.

So, don't talk about being suicidal if you're not joking about it, because we know you're just an attention whore.

5

I'm pretty happy.

We went out. We talked. I was a bit quiet, I am shy. We watched a movie. We glanced at each other when we laughed at the movie. We talked more. She made fun of me being quiet. I stopped being so quiet. We talked more. We went on a journey to find a fountain past a dark alley. We got lost. She got cold. I held her hand to warm her up.

We found three other fountains before we found the one she was looking for. It was decommissioned and anti-climatic. She was still cold, I held her hand more. We walked around talking about nothing. She teased me about being paranoid and asian, I teased her about being a stabbing rapist.

People were staring the entire time. She is hot, I am not. It was such a mismatched pair. She didn't seem to notice.

She had a good time. I had a good time. She wants to go out with me again, except somewhere not as cold.

I want to hold her hand again.

I'm pretty happy.

4

I have severe self-esteem issues. Even though I'm amazingly good looking.

I kid.

There is this girl I am attracted to, and I am not sure if I should pursue her. She is beautiful. When I say beautiful, I do not mean that bullshit selective kind of beautiful that every guy says about the girl he likes. I mean the kind of beautiful if another guy saw her, he would say "Wow, she's beautiful."

I texted her to make plans for Saturday. She texted. We texted. She stopped. I am feeling like I am just not good enough for her and she stopped because she just realized it as well. She has not texted back. The last text was yesterday night. We were in the middle of making plans to go somewhere.

I give up. She is too beautiful for me.

Pretty girls may have won the battle, but I will win the war.

3

You know how things just get away from you sometimes? The feeling of betrayal fresh on your mind? The little pinprick of reminder in the back of your head and you know, you know something is going to go wrong.

But you don't stop, you don't take a moment to step back and watch what you're doing. Pretty soon, the feeling goes away, and you feel better. Don't. The threat is still there. The threat will always be there long as you let others know you, let others see who you are.

You let yourself go, you let yourself feel again. This could only end in tragedy.

It does. It happens. You feel tears start to well up in your eyes, yet you can't cry. You can't cry. You step back. You chastise yourself for being so stupid, to let it go too far. You tell yourself it's the last time. The very last time.

You start over. You rebuild that wall one brick at a time. You smile a fake smile. You laugh. You love. But you don't ever feel.

You sit here drinking your nestea, behind your wall.

2

I missed my class today. I was half an hour late and I don't like the glares I get from classmates when I enter the lecture hall late. I contemplated on going but I'm insecure, I don't like people looking at me with judging stares. So no. I didn't go.

I went to the study/chill area where they have round tables with soft armchairs. I took a seat and brought out my laptop to waste time until my next class. I played Starcraft for a while, I tweeted.

A girl sat down across from me. Well, she put her stuff down first and went to get a coffee and a slice of banana bread first. I moved my laptop closer to me so it took up less space. She needed the space on the round table for her laptop. She thanked me.

I looked up and nodded in a "no prob" kinda way.

She was pale. Blonde. Bright red lips with a clashing contrast against her white skin. She looked older than me, 19 maybe 20. Though she could have easily been 18 as well. I'm not sure. I don't like to judge, but she seemed like a casual druggie. Into raves and pot. Bit of e perhaps. She had that "i'm cool with most things but don't piss me off" kind of style. I found her attractive. Not usually the girls I'm into, there was something about her that's all.

We did our own things for an hour.

I noticed she was packing her stuff up, so I watched her. I'm a curious person. She had a little strappy knapsack and a bigger messenger bag kind of thing. She had difficulty carrying both at the same time because the strap was getting caught. She saw me looking and said something witty. I chuckled. She put everything down and tried again. She got it this time. She flashed me a smile and said her goodbye. I fumbled a goodbye. She raised her eyebrow in a questioning manner. Was I too obvious? Did she know I was attracted to her?

She left.

1

You ever get that feeling you've talked to someone before? I was out walking my dog and this girl with the most gorgeous golden hair walked past, on her way to the corner grocery store perhaps. She was 16 or maybe 17, I'm not the best judge of age. She had a soft glowing smile, the type you wouldn't mind to stare at for a few days. She directed this smile towards me, it's odd how much a smile can simultaneously make you feel special yet vulnerable. She asked about my dog, she said he looked like a cat. I laughed. She smiled. I mentioned something about the long tail of the dog contributing to the cat-like features. She smiled. I smiled. She looked at me and I looked at her. Both of us expected the other to say something, because we knew, she and I knew what the other was thinking. Yet curiously neither of us said anything. Finally she hesitantly turned, her flowing hair making waves. She looked back with a reluctant smile. I pretended I wasn't crying inside.

She went on her way.

I didn't stop her.