Something that is on my mind

    To begin with, I want to say that this is my point of view (which means that there shouldn't be any metaphors).
    I believe in love, however I'm pretty sure (fine, I know) that I don't even understand it. I'm not talking about love that we feel for our parents, brothers, sisters or friends. Supposedly, we say that we love them because we are used to their presence, we see them (almost) every day. We are simply attached to them. But what about love for a special person? Isn't that the same? I don't believe in love at first sight. It's impossible (however, there are some exceptions). You couldn't spend the majority of your life with someone just because you like how that person looks. There must be something more. How about some things in common? If you would spend a lot of time with people, with whom you have something in common (and of course you  kind of, sort of like them) obviously you would become attached to them. So it's actually the same. There are no soulmates, only people that you are attached to. I believe that love is overrated. It's great if you love someone that loves you back. I'm happy for you (well, probably I'm not). But what if no one loves you back? And that's why love is overrated. Some people find happines and others... well, they just live in misery. Most of the time you feel weak, vulnerable, lonely and hopeless. Your mind doesn't work the way it should. This sometimes leads to another "great" thing. Taking your own life because of love without response. It's silly. Talking about suicide in general, of course it's a bad thing. On the other hand, I disagree with people who says that killing yourself is not an option. (Once again, it's my opinion) It is. Certainly you leave your problems to other people, but... you aren't here anymore. It all just doesn't matter. You don't have problems and that's it. It's over. And it's not important if people will judge you. Also, they can't judge you (technically they can and they probably will). It doesn't matter, because you lost the game. You showed your weakness. And that is the reason why you shouldn't leave life. In fact, life is the longest thing you will ever do. So is it worth leaving?

Another flower

    Yes. The moment of a dark silence. The street. It's lovely when there aren't any cars. No sound. And the square when there aren't any passers by. It's empty. Butterflies. They don't move wings. They just glide. No sound. What color is a butterfly's blood? Is it transparent? Like air?
    Only when it's dark and quiet, the line between beauty and monstrousness fades. The line between truth and lie. Love and hate. It also fades. Everything is the view through a window. Blue curtains always blocks it. Always at the same time. 
    But the sound rushes in. And it won't quit. Everything seems weird. There's no one around. Who's making that noise? The switch is pulled. There's no one caring anymore. 
    They exist in lies that were created. They want to be somewhere, but they aren't there. They are stuck. They are forsaken. They exist in memories and dreams that aren't meant to be. There is a kind of people in this world. Somnambulists who wouldn't be. They wait for a moment of relief. A moment when everything is blocked by curtains of the color blue.
    And all of this is just another flower on the grave of an unknown absurd.

Give me a topic

Give me a topic. Give something. Something that would occupy my mind at this moment.
It's empty. I'm empty. It's not who I am. It's weird. I'm weird. Or not. We all are weird, or normal....in a very difficult way. Or an easy one.
World is difficult and unexpected. Easy and predictable. I don't know which one is mine. I despise this feeling. Not knowing, feeling empty, not feeling anything at all.
It's opposite of me. I'm loosing it for no reason. I don't have control anymore.
I got lost in my own world. I feel like a stranger. Like an outsider. I can't find myself. And despite all this, I know I will be fine.
I know myself good enough to figure out that I will survive. Because I deal with this every single moment.
I seek for perfection. I understand that it's wrong. It's unhealthy. But that is who I am.
I never know what to say. My mind is too empty and too full.
I enjoy being alone. I hate it at the same time.
It might seem that I care. But I don't, though I do.
I don't feel, I think.
I don't think, I feel.
I don't know how to act around people, but somehow, things works out.
I would like to change the world. I'm a romanticist.
I've changed the world. My own world.
I feel like an outsider, but I'm not one of them. Others are.
I'm not fake, I don't trust people.
I might be judgy, but i'm not mean.
I want everything and nothing.
I don't know what I want, but when I do - I want, what I want, when I want it.
I'm diverse, like everyone around me.
I don't have hopes. I prepare for worst.
I live in my head. I don't want to fit it.
My smile might seem not visible. But I smile.
I don't understand love. I don't know love.
I like rainy days. More than sunny ones.
I still love light. It keeps me awake, but I don't mind.
I love darkness. It suits me.
I don't like being awake, I daydream instead.