dreams,dreams ;
"the adrenaline rush given off from a reckless speeding car below a busy street, striking with neon night lights,coincides with the misery within my soul.the sounds of lounge music, veils all my pain while i dance senselessly with the ciggarette in my finger,accustoming to every bit of angst i have in me,solemnly."

i sit in my old,wooden chair,thinking,there's no one else to blame but myself for what has happened.just the beginning of the end,and im already haywire.i can literally feel the hands of misery sharply stabbing the surface of my physique and emotions,slowly grabbing my sanity away.the normal genres of music would immediately paralyse me,hence,positive lounge music is the only best choice.

he was a debonair.one whom many ladies would love and adore. addictive.

now,im only left with my drive based on imaginations and anger to write,along with my dreams of independence,desperate to depart from love and society.

im beginning to argue with my actions.but,one thing's for sure,i learned not to remember regret.