After experiencing and witnessing too many losts, I’ve come to realize there’s no place for love in my life. It’s gotten to a point I can’t bear anymore. These eyes have seen more deaths than you could ever imagine. Shutting my eyes doesn’t make things disappear, but if you’re sick enough of reality, it does a hell of a lot for wishful thinking but since when has optimism helped anyone? So I’m going to shut my heart, cross my fingers and wish to die. I’ve never felt so suicidal.

I carry this curse everywhere I go. If only it wasn’t contagious. My hands are infected with death. I kill everything I touch. I love everything I kill. I kill everything I love. Except myself. I’m cursed to witness the curse. I have lost my hopes on death. It will never come to me. Either I’m already dead or God’s punishing me for all my mistakes.

Well, I’m the good old cancer, so I’ll be my own destroyer, won’t be the first time and it won’t be the last. I didn’t wanna say any of this. Putting this down on a journal  feels like a confession but I’d give my heart away to be able to commit half the crimes I feel guilty of.

I am meant to be alone. So don’t get cross in my way. Everytime I find love, I must turn my back and run away. That’s my way of protecting you from myself. That’s why I disappear every now and then and come back again, to see if you’re still breathing.

I know a good thing when I see it and an even better thing when I lose it.

So give up on me.

Thank God for a pretty girl who knows all my secrets.

Before I go, all the love I have left (I am scrounging just for her) to Z;

Over (you) and out (of sight and mind).