HOME | DD

Description
my face is numb. i can't even lift my arm to scribble something on paper. it doesn't have feeling anymore. the words or the arm or both. i wish i could turn off my own feelings just as easily.

i don't know where these compulsive tears come from. i wake up in the morning to find them waiting for me. my body shivers. not uncontrollably. and i stop it by closing the window. the winds sound menacing this high up. i live in a tower, you see.

the expanse of a multi-colored forest below. a view that doesn't scream 'spectacular', but somehow i want to join them, be part of that mundane scenery. i can't fit through the window though, for that speedy descent that seems so much fun.

i guess i'm left with my own machinations. a terribly boring conventional door on the other side of the room. it doesn't lead me to that same exciting place. only a world that has people in it, and responsibilities, and all those cumbersome things.

but that is what i do. i lose myself in this world. i can't equate this with freedom. perhaps elusive freedom comes in chains, shackled and mournful, paraded in front of those delirious eyes that covet it. liberty is nothing but a sideshow. i could only hope to be the ringmaster.

more often than not, i am one of those clowns. stuck at the back of the cramped car, unable to get out. my nose is red and bloody. mascara ruining my pasty makeup. adding a permanent tear to this mask i wear. and people say they are scared of us. we're the ones with your feelings on strings here.

i'm a freak. a travelling freak. bags packed. stickers of places i've seen. stuck on my suit case. reminders of people i've been. stuck on my heart. do you ever stop to think. that it only tries to mend. hide the cracks beneath.

Description
my face is numb. i can't even lift my arm to scribble something on paper. it doesn't have feeling anymore. the words or the arm or both. i wish i could turn off my own feelings just as easily.

i don't know where these compulsive tears come from. i wake up in the morning to find them waiting for me. my body shivers. not uncontrollably. and i stop it by closing the window. the winds sound menacing this high up. i live in a tower, you see.

the expanse of a multi-colored forest below. a view that doesn't scream 'spectacular', but somehow i want to join them, be part of that mundane scenery. i can't fit through the window though, for that speedy descent that seems so much fun.

i guess i'm left with my own machinations. a terribly boring conventional door on the other side of the room. it doesn't lead me to that same exciting place. only a world that has people in it, and responsibilities, and all those cumbersome things.

but that is what i do. i lose myself in this world. i can't equate this with freedom. perhaps elusive freedom comes in chains, shackled and mournful, paraded in front of those delirious eyes that covet it. liberty is nothing but a sideshow. i could only hope to be the ringmaster.

more often than not, i am one of those clowns. stuck at the back of the cramped car, unable to get out. my nose is red and bloody. mascara ruining my pasty makeup. adding a permanent tear to this mask i wear. and people say they are scared of us. we're the ones with your feelings on strings here.

i'm a freak. a travelling freak. bags packed. stickers of places i've seen. stuck on my suit case. reminders of people i've been. stuck on my heart. do you ever stop to think. that it only tries to mend. hide the cracks beneath.