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I am imaging how things will go. My fingers are crossed and I am just praying that my mind will last long enough on the image of you. My find is very fickle these days.
I can't help but try and mock romanticise us together, regardless of my empty heart. It would appear that I bare no feelings for you at all, however, whenever you're away long, I seem to miss you still.
Maybe I don't miss you specifically; maybe I just miss the idea and role you present.
But, at any rate, we will never meet, so, it's all fine.
Yet, I can't help but be drained by your rejections regardless of empty heart.
Maybe I'm just playing along.
I can't think of anything better to do.
My fingers still claw for you, however, despite it all.
I cannot help it. But, for you, I feel the same as I do most.
It gets to a point where I am not finding anyone that seems to fit the caliber, but yet, I'm making do with what I have, in it's minimal form.
What else am I meant to do?
Followers
Once, there was a man, born inside of a world made of steal and hate. He was bred on unusual social habits, mainstream entertainment and silently strict principles. Eventually, he pulled himself up, dusted himself off and moved on to form his own self. He found nice clothes, amazingly unique music, put on his fake, large glasses, started writing stories and applied bohemia to his life.
Please, join on this trail of madness.
About Me
I Wish I Could Help My Self.
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