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kiyuso
☕ Partially active. Just blogging down my messy thoughts for the record and future references. Also a story writer, typically concerning my gays. I don't particularly have any interests. It's more like, if something piques my interests, I become infatuated or obsessed.
agenda
08/23 My Birthday
9/7 Hello Kitty Cafe Truck
9/28 Tour de Corgi
10/17 Brother's Birthday
10/31 Halloween
11/9 Ramen-o-Rama!
12/5 Wen's Birthday
musings
I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still. - Sylvia Plath
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Humane
We look back to the past and reflect on our actions and happiness. We long for those moments, the times when joy flooded our every being, the times of our naivety. But now that we're here, we're too tainted to go back to the past, not like we could in the first place. As time goes on we tend to bottle all our emotions and thoughts up, only to burst open that jar feeling an anguish headache swallow us. Sometimes we can't even sleep, afraid to dream what we fear to face. Just waking up silently and screaming is enough to keep us up all day and night. Only when drowsiness eats us can we sleep in peace, unless the monster seeks to destroy and wreck our only haven of tranquility. Even as these nightmares eat at our very soul, we are still alive and breathing. Though you can barely hear our gasps; waking up screaming in agony and terror, hiding ourselves, watching the world crumble by, feeling the tears of joy and sadness; we are alive, we are human. Because a dream or death isn't this painful.
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