#mumbled words

[sparklyandhaunted]

- tutivillus, the demon of spelling errors and mumbled words https://gallimaufry.typepad.com/blog/2011/03/tutivillus.html

[irritatinglytidsoptimist]

Hapdi ng Bukas

Kasabay sa bukang liwayway, ay ang muling pag harap sa reyalidad, kung saan ikaw ay nawalay.

[hesjustfast]

"Crime? Pssh. Crime, smime."

[empathicstars]

   “... I do not believe smime is Federation Standard. What language is it that you use?" 

[slacey-blog]

Chaos

What if he showed up, right here, right now?  What would I say?  What would I do?  I could storm out and go home.  I could stay and demand answers.  I could stay and impale him with my scissors.  I could go to jail for that...  But it's been so long, he's nothing more than a ghost.  Haunting my thoughts and dreams like a leech that just won't let go.  Go away!  Leave me alone.  I wish I could speak to an engraving, but one does not yet exist.  Do I look forward to the day one does?  I don't know.

Why do I think and wonder so much?  Why can't I calm my mind and just think of nothing for once?  Always something.  Rushing, spinning madly, out of control.  My thoughts on a collision course with insanity and nervous twitches.  Sometimes I want to staple my eyes shut.  Sometimes I want to staple them open.  Can I set fire to my imagination and watch it burn?  Would smoke pour out of my ears as my mind turns to ash? 

I want to sweep the dark corners of my skull with a swiffer and get all those cobwebs and dust monsters out.  I want to organize the flashes of memory into tapes that I could store away and not have to watch if I don't want to.  I want my mind to be as efficient as my work desk, but no. 

I look at myself in the mirror and think, who's face is that?  Who's eyes are staring back at me?  Who am I?  Is this really my body?  It feels so fleeting and temporary.  If I'm not careful my soul will detatch from this flesh and float away, away.  What am I?  Organs and blood and bone, what is the point?  Are our bodies the lemons of life?  Are we confined to the physical world to test ourselves?  Would we lust or persue more moral goals?  Is this life a test?  Can we pass? 

What do you think about when you stare at nothing and focus on nothing? 

What is love?  How do you know where you'll be in ten years?  How do you know if you're better off alone or with someone?  What if you want something that you're not suited for?  How do you cope?  Will you always be wanting?  Will you always think you're broken?

Everything happens for a reason.  I must never let go of that. 

Who am I?