Love letter from a bicycle tire to a toothbrush.

If I told you that you were meant for the cleaner life, that I will drag you through the mud, that I would tread all over you, that I would always be chasing, and you always watching me disappear and appear in the midst of searching for myself, and that would be a vicious cycle, would you fall in love with me? Would you care to know about my rough edges and see my not-so-perfect curves? Would you fit into whatever spaces I let you?

If loving me means getting dirty, would you knowingly let the grime slow you down? If I told you that we live in different worlds and we're always really busy, and in even in your dreams I spin you around so fast you always wake up dizzy, would you caress me and tell me it's gonna be okay, even if I am a burden of indefinite weight, unmeasurable even with love?

There is this constant overbearing feeling inside me, but I never want to talk about it. Perhaps, you could say that in our lives, there'll only be a certain number of people that you care a lot for, so much that you feel worth in self-sacrificing. We know there's no Superman flying to them, but we'll be willing to put on a cape for, yet as we try to fly, we realise that the people we're trying to save are the ones standing on our cape, inhibiting us from moving forward. I've never really liked to depend on, even though it is much easier to depend on others than yourselves, because as much as we try to stretch our hands to catch all the pain falling on us, our hands are only this small and we're unable to grab hold of agony and misery in the heart of our palms.

I never liked to depend on others, because I know that when we depend on others, we feel comfortable, but those people saving us are carrying our burden for us, together with theirs. We are, afterall, humans, and we aren't that strong to sling a baggage behind us and say it's easy. It's not. Because whilst everyone else are constantly on the move in life, people who're helping you through are staying on a constant with you.

I'm not trying to insinuate anything, but just wondering if love truly transcends all, would someone who has been through so much in life ever stay and wait for someone who's in the midst of searching for himself? Because the path to it is weary and probably dreadful anyway, I guess.

Moolah.

I've been working almost everyday now. So tiring but I know it's mandatory. Sucks innit?

Roasted pigeon

Baby Siao and I "caught" a bird by the roadside yesterday. We didn't really catch it, but picked it up from the ground because it seems to have difficulty flying or even moving about. Too bad we didnt have wormdoodles or bird food for it. She said that animals know when they're going to die, and this bird's probably too old to fly and is tryna get to a place to hibernate-till-it-dies.

How do birds die? I always thought they die of hunger once they reach a certain age when they're too old to fly and to get food. Their kids would have probably been grown up and have a nest of their own anyway. Then I realised that it's almost the same for humans. We grow old, and our children would have homes of their own, if we get too old to take care of ourselves, we'll be suffering more than enjoying life.

Fart.

Sheol

A dark and silent abyss, where the souls of the dead wander. My foray into the abyss began with the innocence of a newborn's cry. Each breath brings with it smothering despair. The pain is eternal. What words could I offer when I see you, chasing after a fleeting butterfly, so free and boundless? I'm bound to Earth, amassing a wealth of knowledge, the ultimate equation which barred my path, and the solution. I continued to search for a simple universal answer.

Joy. The joy of life. The pureness of joy in a child chasing after a butterfly, the consummate joy of man that shall never fade. However, the irregular wingbeats of the butterfly give rise to an infinite array of realities. The laws of life sneer at human wisdom. Crises of all kinds are adverted, yet poverty never goes away. Humans devour each other, succumb to disease, and cry out in agony as they die.

Death incarnate, can you hear my voice? Can you hear the grevious sobs of a mourning child? The carcass of the butterfly you have ensured may pale or tear apart, yet still there are those who would defy death. Crushed dreams, brilliant lights are now only the lingering rays of sunset, spread your wings with fear. Take flight, butterfly of despair.

Licking my paws

You retract into yourself and bare your fangs at others, indulging in self-pity and losing yourself.

As if a good thing ever could make up for all the pain

There's been a lot more troubling stuff in my mind, which mainly revolves around money. Sucks to be like that :/ Then again, it's much better if you've ever been through this. Haha.

OH OH OH OH

I JUST FINISHED A DIGITAL PAINTING. OMFG I CAN'T WAIT TO POST IT.

Ciao. Gotta sleep before a work marathon of 12hours work consecutively <3