Disintegrate...

The fact that only a couple of loyal friends visit my blog is what keeping me on doing this, Otherwise -- You should all go to hell.

Sometimes I just stare, think, and pity the fact that I am not living the experience of the Jordanian individual. I have been replaced, to a place that bites off the curvy tips of your dreams. What was my sap back in Jordan?

I found out that a place where you belong, is a place of your inspiration. A place where you've been replaced, is just another way of survival and ensuring a future that may not be filled with what you've always created. I officially declare the emotions of a lonely person, sitting in front of a machine, with light shed from the bathroom behind me and jeans on for late hours at night.

I may sound senseless, but to my twisted little brain I make PERFECT sense. I have this feeling, where I imagine my veins get empty. I get sucked out of blood, I forget the passion of every corner in the world to 'focus' as any rambling human being trying to keep up with this fast paced life. No blood, no warmth. I am getting fed up of listening to my beloved over small little wholes, with distortion and fade. I miss the warm voice, the voice of a person that slowly moves towards you to be surrounding you with reality -- reality far from the ones you know, reality of your ownself. I again declare the emotions of a lonely person...

Some people find their realities in places other people can't find, some with suicidal desires find it in death, some with nicotine rushes, find it in cigarettes. And some with blandness, find it in living in the real world. Why the colour of earth is fading away? Is it us consuming it's wonders? Or its just it's own way of leaving us behind with no inspirations? This is a question, a question which I will follow, again by declaring the emotions of a lonely person...

I feel my dreams reached a point where it got a transparent obstacle, seeing through a further expansion of a lonely person's dream but can't reach it, and there -- in this certain place, my dreams die. What's this obstacle? Why it's so true to me? Because it is, in my own reality. I want to paint the Earth back again, blending the what's left in my veins, and what's dead of my dreams and shine it with the many happy memories I had, and then I stand up and declare, again the emotions of a lonely person...

Why the Earth is so overwhelming?
She's lonely too...