February 16th, 2006



A toast to lost innocence, lost happiness, and the fun that only exists in the virtual image of reflected memories. Friday will mourn what Tuesday cannot remember, and yet Saturday still hurts. And chasing bubbles of old soap only results in them popping faster.

Drowning sorrows is only eventual asphixiation, and sympathy aggravates the wounds. Fingers faster than mind will melt the keys and chose forgiveness away. Machines have no emotion, no matter how humanoid the opporator. And broken glass will still be broken, even when carefully glued back together.

I'll cry softly and lick my wounds when tomorrow doesn't care.

Edit: On second thought, I'm seriously considering going on hiatus from everything.