Suffering

So the once said, karma usually comes right back around and bites you. So does that mean i really deserve this much karma? What an emo emo blog. What is wrong laaaa
Yes I have problems. Doesn't everyone?

I'm truely sorry to everyone who i've hurt recently, and probably all this time. But today I really do feel like I'm locked in this dungeon. By two enemies. Two opposing sides and I need to answer, yes or no. But no matter what i say, I am trapped in here forever because I cannot satisfy both enemies. Because one wants yes, and the other wants no. You say yes, the other doesnt let you out, You say no and the first keeps you there.

And what do you do? You just suffer in there. Karma. Does it ever matter whether I'm happy or not?

No.

White Day

So once upon a time, white day meant something. well only once upon my time. Apparently white day was to celebrate love, or for a guy to return love. but then this year, guess everything changes, Then again, there was no love to return since I didnt give any out on this day, one month ago.

white.... symbolic of purity, or death.

pure love?
or death of love. love dies sometimes.

Karma.

It escapes me, what thoughts may've trailed aimlessly through my mind when I catch the remains of the passing sillohuette. The familiar back. The familiar height. The familiar scent of strong musk and cocoa. It turned around, once more. Not to smile, or wink or any of that bullshit we once knew. But I had lost it. My satchel dropped from my weak grip as I approached, carefully. Cautiously. I could feel the hem of my dress dancing with the breeze before, though that was now replaced by a cold brutal tugging of the vicious gusts of wind.

The scattered shadow gleamed for a second as I managed to catch the sight of those eyes- for the last time. He then turned- disappearing into the distance. What was going on? My legs followed, into a desperate chase. I could feel the moist bed of dewy grass, icy cold beneath my bare feet. 'NOOOO, COME BACKK!!' I begin, before I noticed, my momentum had been interrupted by a falling sensation.

I had tripped on the tail of my pale garments, unable to react in time before my face met the dampness and cold soil. A stinging sensation began abruptly but reaching up, the pain had travelled to my palm as well. Glancing down I stared at them. The faint lines which told stories. The finger which a ring belonged once upon a time. The tips which produced melodic tunes on instruments. And, the spaces between my fingers, where yours, once fit perfectly... The fresh blood and dirt had blurred it all. Once and for all.

Blankness crossed. I could not process it. Why? The harsh breeze did not help as it drove a stinging sensation through my hands. My face. And, my heart.

The figure was gone. The one thing which I thought I could depend on. He left me. In the cold. In the dirt. In the ugly past. Its okay. I deserved it.