Find me.

I'm lost. As lost as every other soul in this world. But I don't want to fit it. I don't want to blend in the darkness and be like everyone else. I want to stay in the light, stay here until I go blind and see nothing else.

I'm lost. But I don't need anyone to save me. I am my own saviour. I'll drag myself down if I want to. I'll pull myself back up when I have to... I'll repeat my mistakes until I finally learn from them. I'll let bruises form over healed wounds, until there's no more room left... until I really have to find myself in my own mess.

I'm lost. I can't seem to find the answers to any of my questions. I keep running back to where I left off. I can't seem to find balance, something always topples me off  to the edge. Reason always seems to question my sanity. Reason never makes sense.

I'm lost. I am not sure why I'm here for. I find it hard to believe in my own words. I only seem to embrace all the lies. I am constantly running after something real. And I am always left with the hollow centers of cold air.

And I'm lost. But I'll go out my usual way just to go find you. Just to find the other half that will keep the perfect concept in my mind whole.

Beautiful disaster

She has never been sure of anything. But she keeps moving along anyways, hoping she would bump into someone who would be kind enough to lead her to the right way. She keeps hearing the same stories over and over again - of how her life would be so perfect if only she would learn to make the right choices. But she never listens. She wants to hold on to her fragmented self - and hold on to the few things she is certain of. But they keep begging her to let go. They keep saying they only want what's best for her. But how could it be the best, when whatever it is they are trying to do is only hurting her. She just needs someone to trust her, so she could begin trusting herself once again. She just want to show the world what she is capable of - that she is not just any other damaged girl searching for her place. She has found her place, she just wants the world to let her be. She just wants the world to see her for she who she is - with all her imperfections, fears, and bruises.

Consequence

She picks herself up from another fall. She looks around, and sees the speeding world walk past her. She's in the middle of everything, yet again. Trapped in the center. Trapped in a world she never wanted to be part of. It's all so clear, but not clear enough. Nothing's enough. They are all trying too hard to impress her. Trying too hard to catch her attention. And she doesn't need any of that. She just needs one thing. Just that one thing, and nothing more. She needs the truth. To find the reason behind her existence. To know why he left. And to understand why she still feels alone even after all she's been given.

She is a mess. She feeds on other peoples' miseries. Their pains make her strong. Their tears make her smile. She steals their hearts, and leave them into pieces. Her heart's been tainted with grief. She knows not to love. She knows that once she does, karma will come crashing down upon her. She knows the consequence. So she keeps running away.

She runs as fast as she can, but never fast enough. She always falls behind. Life is always ahead of her. Life always finds a way to bring her back to reality. Back to where she belongs. Back to the scary world of love. She always ends up running back to where she keeps trying to run away from.

Gouache

 

By Japanese artist Kazuki Takamatsu.

I want to make the world run

Control you might call it a life-long obsession, within a year we're already throwing fits, trying to control everything and anything that touches our lives. Our addiction to control starts early and it doesn't end there. The terrible two's, the teenagers, our whole lives are a constant battle between what we want and what stands in our way. Control -- it's a dangerous obsession; take it too far and you could risk losing it all-together. There comes a day when we suddenly realize that the control we seek will forever remain just outside our grasp.

- Being Erica