Letter to myself: 09/26/09 - 04:08am

Nothing to do, nothing to feel... don't know what I was feelin' for sure.
No meaning.

"Time goes by.
I feel life like a heartbeat.
Livin' like a vampire from all the stories i've read, legends and myths i've studied. Sleeping all day long and livin' at night.
I've been burying my beloved ones.
In the end, nothing will be left for me.
I wish the end of it all to come near, but my wish shall be refused.
My gifts seems more like a punishment, not to say a curse.
This time, lifetime, that I feel like a heartbeat, is like a knife for me now. Always cutting deep, always making me bleed, never healing, and yet, never deep enough.
I no longer feel pain as an enemy; and when I feel, I greet it as a welcome loyal friend, my only friend.
It doesn't bother me.
I often wish, however feel, my time will never come.
It's not death I'm talking about; death, the only true concrete end, will surely come sooner or later. It's life I'm talking about.
This life, which never comes, moves, breathes, end.
It shall never be over.
My so called life, is just like one of those vampires you've heard about on stories.
Physically, psychologically, emotionally, real, but not so real."



"How to cope with our lives...
...To cover the silence?"