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OBLIVIATE;
Muse
Specs
Way Out
Credits
Dashboard
I push myself into broken music, in the bleakness of a tragedy.

Flowers wither and scatter, the moon tilts and disappears, But my heart won’t ever change, I love you, I love you.


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To live, or to merely exist?
Saturday, September 14, 201311:36 PM

Have you ever met someone who is so utterly beautiful and perfect and she's like glass, so vulnerable that everyone's afraid that she'd break and shatter. And they're so afraid that they try their best to make her happy and it is as if she's too precious to hurt and too lovely to cry. And people make it a point to make her smile because she only deserves the best (and to only live to smile) and everyone's just there for her because someone as innocent as her shouldn't be exposed to the cruelty of this world. So you sit there, not sure whether to feel jealous of her, or to wonder why it'll never be you. And you're wondering why, just because you're nothing like her and you aren't pretty and fragile and all, that people wouldn't fear for you, that you might fall one day into the depths of your own selfish thoughts. That these thoughts might be the end of your faith in humanity, that maybe you're just the one who needs protecting and not sitting wherever there's space for you, and watching yourself fall with no where to land.