it wouldn't hurt to say hi. it wouldn't hurt to say "i'm sorry".

that is what i thought so.

it would hurt for the acknowledgement and to be in power of that understanding that what hurt so badly. still, i wish i had that apology.

despite no longer pledging any sense of hope to a lost cause, i still think of him time to time. foolish as it comes, girls are indeed made of different stuff. perhaps i am old - fashioned.

i am closeted, switched off, weary, un-focused and out of life. i am stuffed into a jar and stoppered in the preservation of time. tick tocking of the clock reminds me that i am hitting another number next sunday. somehow, i feel like i am getting younger. i wish i hadn't learnt to care so much when i was really younger. i am enjoying life in the reverse of time, anti-clockwise movement that shrinks the digits and brought out that self - awareness.

i cannot make myself look at another real human of the boy type. somehow i would feel disgusted if i make believe some love story. true, the mush makes me squirm in my dizziness of LOVE but when i wake up, poof like cotton candy soaked in vodka.
that sticky sweetness overwhelms the heady alcoholism.

i have been drunk too long.