This was the thing since I have met you, if we never see each other again and one day I feel a certain presence. The day I saw you, i felt the cloud begin to lift a litil bit. May be I was quite wrong about destiny thinking that it's the bridge we build o the one we love the most. Anyways I hope that I've healed during the years apart, and I'm sitting with you while you read this. But if I'm not, it's not because I don't love you, It's because I do, and I do miss you a lot. This doesn't mean that I'm not better and the story ain't just over yet. May be the reason is we just live in the physical world we can just touch, or we do live in the world that we create with our heart. As for the question of my destiny all I know is that even when destiny wants to accomplish something, it can't do it alone. I still have to go to the place and show up and wait the hours you have waited for me, so that I can build a bridge to you. With a hope, a never ending hope. May be that's why human beings exists to save from ourselves. It would be almost like it wasn't over and the pain would stop.

 I do not deny myself, I just sit down and write about it, until I expose to myself. I might be more trouble than I look, Just keeping it real. And it’s the only way I know how. I’m fine, I’m disgusted with my life and myself, but I’m not unhappy about that. It’s like living beyond my means.  Of course I do have those days where I feel like tired and about to fall out, and I’m in deeply in touch with those emotions. And definitely there are some images which I don’t want floating around my head, but they seem like a bullet in my head, except with less ice. 

      Life is complicated, and that’s all I’ve got. The person that I want to have everything to do with, wants nothing to do with me. The woman that I love is out there and I know I can't have her. It’s quite hard even get up in the morning. But the booze is always helpful and so is the art. Everything that I write is either for her or about her. So I'm with her, even when I'm not.
Many times I feel like the good Lord picked me up with his bare hands, laid me down on the bed of rusty nails, pinned me ankles behind my ears and just punched on my chest. I fool myself into thinking that, I can fix things, I can make her come back. It hurts when I see my close friends being in the same dark and all I can do for them is nothing. I know I’m a big fan of the bye bye pain juice. These things make me easy, not sleazy. I feel I’m in the worst invention ever. That’s just me.