at the moment
everything is halted up in mid air… i can not contemplate to write sensible unpersonal sentiments. and thoughts are on the drain. each time i see julia stiles i tend to forget. damn…i am blown away. how many minutes would it take to forget? and how many centuries should occur to remember, losing is easy than gaining. it is easy to mess a canvass, than paint something realistic, it is in abstract that we create an escape of reality.
when i was small, i had this paint brush, i loved this paint brush so much, that i keep it with me even when i will sleep. but one morning i woke up, and almost scream to death when i saw that my favorite paint brush broken, right between my little fingers. i cried hard, so hard that i turned blue, and i collapsed. i can not bear such emotion, because i have a weak heart. it took me three days just to get by that little nonsensical tragedy(but when you are a kid it means more than everything). and when i finally came back to my senses, my father bought me a top, it was a mechanicak top, it makes noises and produces bright lights, but there it was, an empty top. after three weeks i found the top under my bed, its battery leaked, and its spring rusted. but i felt nothing. and after that many toys came and go, but i felt numb. once is enough for me to feel sorry of losing. because the stake here is my life or the thing that i should cling on. but i love my life, more than i love the struggle. so there is no point of crying over broken paint brush. at the moment… its my heart not yours.
-darkmau-
MALAYA!
