I read the archives and noticed that the name is hardly mentioned. It is intricate to co-exist and converse under these circumstances. Maybe when I am on the road alone again we would be in better positions to extend solace. Eminently the ache to break out of this cocoon, this invisible entanglement and possession, to cry out quits, to step out of this comfort zone and into the wild and frenzy unsettled world so that I am not moving in a constant anymore - is desperate; A retreat within the cryptic realm. Everyone is on the same search to plummet deep into the arms of this conspiracy that we are all in the knowing of. My rationale is simple; To write. To get out. To push. To venture. To embrace the unknown and risk. Fidelity should have an expiry.

A tendency to self destruct. Am.

We remember. Because that moment, that point of contact, that image, does not exist anymore. As we are unable to rewind and play it back in reality, consequently we resolve it in our heads. Reminiscence. The mental impression retained and revived. It is only then we can control each fatal frame.

- Shot by INCX - The Epic Dream

I like the feeling of running my fingers through the soft pages of books, especially those newly displayed ones. It must be the tangibility of it that draws me in. Like a child I become, wondering through the book store, subconsciously listening to the muffled voices of strangers whilst lost in my world of thoughts and endless choices of stories to immense myself in. Safe. I feel safe there. In that zone of no explanation.

You gave up on sensitivity yesterday. Enough. Enough of protecting, sugar coating and suppressing all of the pent up frustration and angst of the living. It should not be. We should not do this to ourselves. To exist in this manner, having to abide in a constant world of self abuse. Tactful, yes. But what about honesty? Or maybe we simply have this intrinsic compulsion to inflict hurt onto others to ease our repressed mind.

- Shot by Leenik - Falling Down

The site has changed its name, when did that happened? Now it feels like a complete stranger to me. I can't even remember when was the last time I visited and left my input. Only the simple icon remains. I type my name to see my past library, list, titles and stories. And it hit. Each and every face behind each stringed up sentences. How long have I left those characters in those individual sad story, chapter and pain. Continuously. Reborn to death. I wish I was like the sky. Just there and watching.

And every story will have it's clear blue skies and open fields of green. The trees would be clean for you to climb on, lean on, and sleep on. And I would be there... watching.

I will not judge, I will not comment, I will not speak, I will not frown, I will not cry, I will not love, I will not hate, I will not remember. For I am only passing by.

-Shot by Apipro-

I need another holiday.
That's what my body says.