October

I haven't written in such a long time. Feeling quite confused, can't make up my mind if I'm in a good place or not. 

I don't feel like me anymore. I really changed, haven't I? For better or for worse, I dare not ask.

I used to care,

now not so.

I used to love writing,

now I hardly blog.

I used to tumblr every night? 

now I can't remember the last time I did.

I used to write letters to you everyday,

now I don't dare to, afraid I might not w able to finish it.

Everything around me feels heavy. I want to wake up early, mend friendships, do revision, have productive days. But what for? I can't seem to figure it out. It's like I'm doing all these for my future when in all honesty I don't know what I want in the future. And as impractical as it may sound, i don't have productive days, I want blissful days. Everyone around me keep telling me no, even you but is it really that wrong to live the way I crave to?

High hopes by Kodaline is on replay and I can't help but get reminded of you. And as I figured I've ran out of things to say. How is it possible to have so many thoughts running at a 100 miles per hour and not being able to catch a single one of them or as some would say, lost in translation. 

Perhaps I've really lost it. 

Would you stay? Even when I've lost myself, even when I can't figure out anything. 

Could you wait? Till I figure myself out. 

Would you walk away? I wouldn't blame you.

Stay, stay, stay. Please stay.

Broken bottles in the hotel lobby

Seems to me like I'm just scared of never feeling again

I know it's crazy to believe in silly things,

but it's not that easy

I remember it now it takes me back to when it all first started

but I've only got myself to blame for it 

and I accept it now

it's time to let it go, go out and start again

but it's not that easy

but I've got high hopes

it takes me back to when we started

high hopes when you let it go, go out and start again

high hopes when it all comes to an end,

and the world keeps spinning around

and in my dreams I meet the ghost of all the people who've come and gone

memories they seem to show up so quick but they leave you far too soon

naive I was just staring at the barrel of a gun,

and I do believe it