this is not the strangest look i've done.
Which says more about me, than anything else. Horror settles in my fine lines, cringing at the horror. Noticing my face distorted with thick makeup and unblended application. Yikes. How did this happen?
Oh right, makeup.
Oh right, makeup.
W H E R E H A V E I B E E N ?
Away, but that's a given.
I can make excuses. God knows I make plenty daily. Law school is hard, life is strange and I am not sane. Attempts to rationalise my lethargy and lack of self fail. Instead, I spent time alone. Taking in the joys of a new town. Finding myself in late nights. Consistent ups and downs and nothings.
All I can truly say is; things happened. Let's talk about them.
H I T M E W I T H
T H A T S T R E A M O F D O P A M I N E .
I want your sugar in my veins. Blood is too bitter for my body. A shot is all I need. When I inhale the smoke and seed, you are all I feel. I don't want to feel anything but this. As I float away, grasping at your ecstasy, I find you everywhere. Under your influence, I don't want to let this go.
Yet, I can't take this. Once my mind clears, I know. There is no clarity with you, just empty bliss. But once struck by your eyes, I'm hooked on your spell. I can only think of you. There is a wickedness to your smile, and I wipe it away. I need to ask;
I T W A S A B U S Y O C T O B E R .
Hence my lack of posts. But here I am nonetheless. Typing in between classes, pretending I'm doing actual work. Which I'm not. Instead, I am writing this because it is a week over due and I feel bad.
Here are my Five Things in October!
Here are my Five Things in October!
' h i d e y o u r f a c e
s o t h e w o r l d w i l l n e v e r
f i n d y o u . '
No one knows her. No one sees her. A raven veil cloaked her being. Shrouded in mystery through the curtain of night. She strides in, nose high and back arched. Her smile small and bare. Unknown to the world without her crimson face. As she always intended.
She dips a thin paintbrush into blood, droplets fall to the floor. With flicks of her wrist, she carves her skin. The bristles scratching her cheeks but bares it nevertheless. Cuts deep, but the scars will fade. She notes when the rouge finally dries. Still, she stands. Better painted red like her lovers than black without gain.
She chose her mask. The false face she wears for the world. Without it, she is nothing.
This is why we wear masks. Without, what are we?
" I S T H I S B Y D E S I G N O R R A N D O M F A T E ? "
But who does? When faced with the uncertainty of certain farces, we cower behind humour and sarcasm. I keep my head forward, back straight and feet planted to the concrete. Dressed in black to suit the forsaken. Large rims hiding tired eyes, and lips parted to breathe. Wandering around the streets, alone in the crowd. I am lost.
I lost myself.
And maybe that's okay.
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