It only occurred to me, empty, lost, unfamiliarized, fragmentized. 

It is one thing or the other, to write when you are bored, or to give up writing when the real pain comes. It is only when you lose, did you realize the importance of winning in your ego-boosted narcissism.

Till then nothing matters, not the supports or the mocking, nor the happiness.

Sometimes I feel the night sky, covered by starlight ending in lines of sorrow.

Sometimes I realize how empty I was, down deep, but my smile is genuine.

Sometimes I hide myself in the crowd, been someone whom I despise, but just been it, it is still me.

Sometimes I cry like a child, looking for wine, and singing songs.

These times I wander as if I'm a lost, I beg for pain, for a diminished memory, sound and still.

Sometimes I talk nonsense, reading lyrics in a orderless matter.

Sometimes I laugh at brilliant songs, by Ylvis or Mozart.

It is when I take poems down into my stomach can I devour some nutrition to keep my brain functioning, my hormones flowing naturally.

It is when my hippocampus takes in too much information did it start to fall apart.

The world can be already alive with alliterations scattered across the page, foreshadowing a world of magical realism, or realist magicalism.

It does not matter what the author intended to speak of, it is always the flow that leads us to our final destination.

Though no one knows what that is.

I do not allow myself to have an affection for anything, I just happen to realize I am addicted to these instrumentality between this world and the other and I tell myself to believe in what they tells me and what I did myself try to express to them but no one is here to tell me or to receive my messages or to give back when I send off and thus there is no communication. I am talking nonsense.

And then I realized, yeah I am not a kid anymore.

So there are no one else there to speak with you when you're bored. No one there to calm your sorrows when you are in pain.

No one there to tell you how to choose or what to do. I never felt more alone and happy, more innovated and patient.

I won't necessarily tell you how much I love you, because that's not who I am.

I understand how not to lose is never to care, and so, I don't care.

If you think this is a way of saying that I don't wanna lose you, you are wrong.

I am just wanting to say that, you are all peasants claiming your places in my heart yet all there is down there, is a universe of black hole filled with empty stars, shrieking at love and hate, pain and happiness, wanting to be let loose and wanting to be free, but there is always nothing left in the outside world to do about it.