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My Tw|t Garden
Friday, June 15, 2012

No more tears.





Just like the tag on J&J baby shampoo.




The fluid that comes out from my soul's window are seemingly something quite automatic. Nothing alarming.




All the flowers and beds of roses are nothing but mirages I've made up to feel good. In the end, I am devastated by the dream I've cooked up.




One day, I will have to stop my denials and live up to what is real.




For now, I'm stuck between awakening and delirium, where I still believed it'll be happily ever after.




The time I spend awake is more frequent now... The time the pain seems almost suffocating, excruciatingly heart wrenching.




My dreams are less vivid, less believable now. And I could actively jolt myself awake with a heavy slap on the cheek. Conveniently easy.




Which means, if anyone is still following, my stage of acceptance is arriving.




When it comes, I have no idea what is going to happen.




All I know is, it may be good to dream a little longer.



Because, while it lasts, the good times are promising.




And, while it lasts, I've failed to scrutinize how much beatings I had to take to wake me up.




I'm a person who hates to fail. And failed once I had. Guess what, I think with practice, I just might get used to failure.




I'm such a failing dope.




FML.