Afraid.

comatose.

that's what i felt on a sunday evening. have i really gone into being such an emotional wreck? whatever happened to me being a pillar of support to my friends around me?

have i gone into being such a tormented soul of emotions that i've become so redundant and obsolete to the issues around me? why do i cry at the happy endings of movies? Barnyard, The Valiant, The Little Black Book, Blood & Chocolate.

is it because of the touching storyline and the positive conclusions? is it because of the beauty of the digital thespians? or is it because i'll never get the happy ending i'll ever want.

" omission breeds betrayal. " - The Little Black Book.

I'm really sorry to all readers who wanted a life-affirming, revolutionising entry about poetical musings and the like. The need to go through a bit of rain every now and then is certainly a cycle of life.

I'm afraid to close my eyes, for tears are bound to fall at the lyrical visions being played in the mind.

I'm afraid to open my eyes, for tears are bound to fall and the courtship rituals of others being presented before me.

I'm afraid to clasp my lips, for the gnashing of teeth is bound to manifest at the haunting sounds of isolation and loneliness.

I'm afraid to open my mouth, for some passionate words were best left unspoken.

I'm just... afraid.