This Will Be One Hell Of A Fucking Ride

being

silence is comforting. but sometimes, it’s like a gun to the head, or a start button for overthinking to creep over. (eusie.)

Tell me lies a little more Make me cry a little more Break my heart a little more So I can love you a little less

September 18, 2013 (eusie.)

#pen #paper #ink #marks ?

Are you… asking me about my tags? If yes, then…

#pen is for posts that are just some of my (personal) babblings#paper are poems/prose/writings that are either about me, for me, or related to me#ink is for posts that i’ve written#marks are asks that i’ve answered

e.e. cummings, from “because it’s Spring” (in 73 Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962

hello. there is nothing to see here but hand-me-down treasures and half-assed writings

Yes I want to write this fic. No I don’t want to figure out what happens in it. Also no I don’t want to write it <3

Probably not a poem

Saying what I feel isn’t easy as breathing but every day, I would want to express it to you as I need to breathe. The first gasp of air I make every morning when I wake up is like a whisper of your name that reminds me that my heart is alive to love you again. Then, the whole day just smells like you, like your scent lingers on the walls of our house and everything that surrounds me wherever I go. This just makes me miss you. While a few minutes later, I'll miss you more than how I missed you moments ago until I just start to yearn for you… until I just yearn for your eyes to look into mine again; for your voice to show off its magic as all of me feels tingly; for your lips to say my name or to make me feel loved; for your hands to touch me and make me shiver… or for you to just hug me so I can feel your warmth that assures me that you won’t leave me. Please, please don’t leave me even if there’s a thousand reasons why you should. I know sometimes (or more often) my words are daggers — my actions too, or even just my silence — and that I probably make you bleed every day. I know that I can never be enough (and I’m sorry for this), and that I can never love you the way you love me (but please know that I love you very much). But keep on loving me because I would want to soak under the rain of your love forever. I love you. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts deep inside that my tears don’t come out of my eyes but they pop out of my blood veins and contaminate me like they’re toxic. But I’m okay, I can still breathe. And you probably feel the same way, hiding all pieces of you that I have shattered every now and then  — hiding them instead of throwing them at me to wound me. But you always say that you’re okay, that you can still breathe. Our love for each other (or our relationship) may not be perfect, maybe all just wounds that turned into scars, or maybe just all bruises that cannot disappear, but I hope… I really hope we can survive it like a ship that succeeded to pass through a lightning storm in the ocean. Let’s remind the world that people can live because of love. So let’s make it through everything with our hands entangled and our hearts connected to every heartstrings of the other. Let’s keep on loving each other... loving all the flaws and pieces of the other all the same.

(eusie.)

a feeling: “nothing lost but something missing”

my throat tastes of rust and i'm drunk on my tears

my cries dance on the rooftop and i'm a high tide on this silent night

there is a rustling inside of me that doesn't stop

and sometimes it ends up as an aching a yearning for an unknown

this skin keeps on burning and i’m still hurting

but i don’t why

(eusie.)

Counting Cars

Synopsis

Koichiro Ugumori was 23 years old when he died because of a car accident. Ever since then, he has been a wandering soul inside the halls of the hospital where he was announced dead on arrival. One day, he suddenly wakes up in the body of a 20-year-old guy named Soichiro. He soon meets Ayako, Soichiro’s sweet girlfriend, and his circle of friends that includes the demure(ish)ly attractive, Chiho, who quite seems to be distant when it comes to him. As Koichiro struggles to “adjust” with his mysterious second chance to live, he tries to face the revived aftermath of his death and Soichiro’s complicated (love) life.

sumesex naman ata di murder eh

// murder naman yata eh, hindi sex //

This is about Don’t even think about it, yes?

Hi. I’ll just be in the corner and contemplate about what I did wrong. And probably study about read between the lines? DUNNO. Good evening

@bookhay: “Nalibugan ka lang bes hahahaha”