the hands may bleed in its best ability from guarding what may be the rage of the conscious mind. yet what hand may cripple from holding down the strong will of the subconscious world? God help me, not to unleash my opportunistic instinct. when the dial of my right and wrong compass had seemed been dancing to a traditional grecian folk tunes, jumping left to right to right and left, in the absence of senses. for this day my tears had finally find its river path in gravity, through the damm of mascara right across my full inclining bed of cheek. i watched it dropped per dropped, i watched myself in the mirror closely whilst, feeling nothing. i cant resist the enjoyment of what i saw. i enjoy seeing my body abilities to react when nothingness is, all i can afford to feel. i saw myself attentively without any comprehension. i wonder, but not enough to trigger the senses in questioning. to my normal old self, i felt so shallow -yet still not enough to dive deeper into that river of tears. i just waited patiently for the teardrops to stop. wiped it dry, powdered it good and fixed my mascara. all i need to realise from now on is, anything cud happened so absurdly random: and im having less and less control of myself...

* * * * *

tonight i saw him and i felt nothing.
i sat next to him, only to sense that the flare has died.
i need not to look into his eyes, to understands that his long loving gaze is no longer for me.
i just know my heart is weeping, as we said goodbye in that cross road.
all of those that flashes before my eyes, and i still feels nothing;
i just smiled.

so i wishpered a safe journey home prayer for him..
then i prayed for myself,
so that his wonderful and admirable self as i believed in him, doesnt fail me through time.
finally i prayed to God, to keep me strong in finding my peace if he is not the one for me..