unsafe.

i still don't get it.
it hasn't hit me.

i'm not going to live forever.
i feel invincible, like nothing will ever happen to me.
but then i hear of someone who has died. someone who can't walk anymore, can't remember things as well as they used to. and then it gets me thinking. we're never going to be as alive as we are now, ever again.

so, why do we still hesistate to do things? why do we think things over? why do we set ourselves up for regret later? all these things just throwing themselves in our direction, we render them dangerous, stupid. we don't do them, but later, we wish we did.

i think everybody should try.

paper romance.

and here i rest, where disappointment and regret collide.
my life is cluttered.

things that are insignificant. things i'll probably never look at again.
i hoard them.

i put them in boxes and i take them everywhere.
i check on them every now and again, just to see if they're still successfully weighing me down.
it's pretty exhausting.

my only weakness is knowing your secret.

it's really really quiet in here, i just got kicked out of class.

again.

i think i'm a jealous person, and i can't help it. not with like friends or anything, but like.. yeah, i don't know, with friends too. and like, dude, i hate facebook. like, a lot. i say the word 'like' quite often.

what am i supposed to do with myself.

why don't you ever say anything back.

it's not like i'm going to ask you.

idiot.

and i want to know, i want to know everything. because not knowing gets to me, a little. i don't think i can come up with anything suitable right now, i'm feeling pretty lifeless. and numb. and lame. but i'm feeling a little out of breath, and i'm feeling the things i haven't said, and the things you wish you didn't.

i'm feeling those days when all i wanted was your absence. now the moments with you just slip by, and the clock keeps ticking, and i know i may be making it worse than it is, but i wish i could take back everything, start over, and do it the right way.

i wish i could just go back to grade two. or something. start over.

because as i sit here, stuck in the middle of all these people i won't ever have enough of, all i can think of is going back, and doing it over.

this regret, my regret; it's too potent and it stings too much.

it tastes bad when i swallow, and it burns me when i'm smiling.

it's acid in my eyes, and it's blurring everything i see.

oh, shit.

major melodramatisization.

i hope that's even a word, or i'll have to come back and change it later. or like, i just won't, and i'll just leave it, and be cool like shakespeare, make some words up.