Entangled.

And just when things couldn’t get any more complicated.. we made them worse. Tangled. Tangled. Tangled.

Hooray for me for having the idea.

Hope for no regrets. 

Embrace the results of your choices. 

Good luck to us to figuring things out.

Fingers crossed.

"Kisses sweet, but complicated, burning bright, but sadly faded."

Redemption.

Being right all along. So what? Same shit.
Και καταραμένο τέλος it is, indeed.
Rewrite over the tape? Nah. Not even a glimpse of hope.
And I'm angry. Angry at you, angry at those fools, angry at myself. Because If you really cared, you wouldn't believe them. If you really cared, you wouldn't mind. If you really cared, you would have tried. You would have faught for it. Seems like you don't. And I've been again the fool. I've fallen into that dark pit again, only to find myself trying to get out again, not sure of the way to do it.
It's like the tears are not enough anymore, they can't bring redemption to the soul. That's why they don't make their appearance. Sometimes it feels like everything can go back to normal. But what is, normal? Pretending each other does not exist? Or being "friends" which didn't actually turn out to be true. Cause we suck at frienship. And maybe that's the problem.
Do you still care? Do you still remember? Do you still feel the way you did? If you do,then why the hell are we doing this?! Why?
And I can't imagine anyone's lips touching mine,than yours. Or anyone's touch. It's like we were manufactured to fit together as puzzles, only now some of the pieces are missing and we suddenly can't be together again.

Words are not enough and they can never be. And I know, oh I know that when I find out those little spies..they'll wish they had never even made a thought about me. I don't know how or when. I just know someday, they'll regret the time they spilled out those poisonous words. Those words that weren't supposed to  affect you in any way, if you were smart enough to see beyond them, smart enough to trust only your heart.

Unless your heart has been poisoned,too.
"They taped over your mouth, scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies."
I know I'm focusing on this one little reason. But is the one that makes me the angriest of all. Cause they had no right. NO F**KING RIGHT. Cause they are all hypocrites. This is why. And because you always have a trend to believe whatever their big mouth says,without even telling me. Because even if you say you don't want anyone involved in this, you let them get involved yourself by just taking them into account!

Really, shame on you.

And I can't wait of the time that I'll finally be outta here. Oh yes, just 5 months from now. And you'll be sorry again, just like you were before. But this time there will be no other chances. Oh how I long for a different life, different people. Who don't go mess up around with your life, keep their gossips to themselves and MIND THEIR OWN BUSYNESS. If such people exist.

So this is goodbye then. Farewell. I hope you know what you meant to me...

"Now that I've tried everything,I'll numb the pain till I am made of stone."

Σημάδια

The secret is to not get too attached. It always fails,though.

Ήταν σα να έβλεπε την ίδια κασέτα ξανά.. Μπορούσε να αναγνωρίσει το τέλος από την εμφάνιση των σημαδιών: αργά, δειλά, με αυξανόμενη συχνότητα, ίσα ίσα ώστε να μπορέσει να τα χωνέψει και να αντιληφθεί το νόημά τους. Αδιαφορία, βαρεμάρα, δικαιολογίες.. Ναι, το είχε ξαναδεί αυτό το σενάριο. Ήξερε πού θα κατέληγε. Ίσως όχι τώρα, ίσως όχι πολύ σύντομα, όμως σίγουρα τα σημάδια δε θα παρέκκλιναν από τον τελικό τους προορισμό. Απλά.. ίσως τελικά να μην ήταν γραφτό. Μπορούσε να το νιώσει. Δεν ήταν αυτό που ονειρευόταν, το ιδανικό γι αυτήν ήταν κάτι το διαφορετικό, κάτι το παραμυθένιο που δε χρειαζόταν να ποτίζεται κάθε τόσο με δάκρυα πόνου.. Το φανταζόταν πως μεγάλωνε με κάθε βλέμμα, κάθε γέλιο, κάθε ζεστή αγκαλιά, κάθε παθιασμένο φιλί..

Μερικές φορές φάνταζε αληθινό. Τότε ένιωθε πως είχε κάνει τη σωστή επιλογή. Τελευταία, όμως, τα σημάδια την έκαναν να φοβάται, πιο πολύ από κάθε άλλη φορά. Αυτή τη φορά είχε δώσει τη ψυχή της, όλο της το είναι. Τους φόβους της, τους πόθους της, τις πιο απόκρυφες γωνιές της ύπαρξής της.. Τώρα ένιωθε την καρδιά της στα χέρια του ίδιου δολοφόνου, έτοιμη να κατακρεουργηθεί ξανά, και πάλι απ' την αρχή. Η κασέτα κόντευε πια στο τέλος της. Αργό, βασανιστικό.. Ζήλια, φθόνος, αγάπη, μίσος, καχυποψία, πόνος.

Ίσως κατάφερνε να γυρίσει την κασέτα πίσω. Αλλά αυτό θα έφερνε πάλι το ίδιο αποτέλεσμα. Ίσως πάλι να κατάφερνε να φτάσει στο τέλος και να το γράψει ξανά από την αρχή. Διαφορετικό πλέον. Χαρούμενο. Όπως αυτή θα το ήθελε. Ιδανικό, όπως επιζητούσε η καρδιά της.

Ίσως πάλι να παρέμενε στο ίδιο καταραμένο τέλος.

Can Love Worn out?

"..Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or Bends with the remover to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken."

- Shakespeare Sonnet 116

 

This is how you know IT'S NOT true love.

 

True Love

How can True Love exist, when people have stopped believing in its magic?

Predictions

That weird feeling was in the air; she could feel it. She knew something was off. Something wasn't right. Something bad was going to happen, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Or maybe she could, but didn't want to. It was one of those times when she felt what was going to happen, but tried to deny it. She preferred to pretend she was ignorant, because what was about to happen, was her worst nightmare. Maybe she was wrong all along; nothing would actually happen. But she had to face the truth, she was rarely wrong. She didn’t want to be pessimistic, but one way or another, no matter how distant in the future, it would eventually happen. However, she felt that the bad news were close; so close, she could reach beyond the veil of the future, and feel the monstrous reality on her fingertips.

She knew. It would happen again.

History would repeat itself. The nightmare would come to life again. She was afraid. She didn't know if she could handle it again. It was true, the last time, she managed to come out of her living hell, alive. Deeply wounded, but still alive. Those wounds were still visible. Over the time they faded, but the scars remained. Those scars would always remind her of the time she lost. The time she lost the most valuable thing she had.
The wounds would open again. She remembered the feeling of being stubbed right through the heart, the overwhelming pain of her heart being ripped open. She shuddered at the thought of how it felt to regret offering her soul to someone. She thought back at the time it took to build all these walls around her. Now the time had come again, they would be destroyed.

Yes, it was close. She wasn't ready to face it. She would never be. But when the time would come, she would stare into the horrific eyes of the Disaster and punch it right in the face. She would come out again alive, stronger.

She would be burned, just to be reborn from the ashes.

Missing.

It's one of those times when I wonder If I am actually trying enough. I do try. Though do I do my best? I don't think so. And that just sucks. Cause it's not about me. Well,it actually is partly; though at some point you stop thinking about yourself anymore. Results? Pain. Jealousy. Why? Cause it hurts to know there are other people there who already fill up your absent place. And it sucks knowing how many wonderful moments you are missing, when in fact those others live them, with the person you love most. Those moments which are yours to live, yours to cherish. You may say, true, but you didn't grab the chance when you could. But that doesn't depend entirely on you. In fact, If I could, I definitetly would have changed the whole story.
I just hate knowing what I am missing. I also hate NOT knowing what I am missing. I guess I actually hate MISSING things. Chances. People. Moments. People. People. People..
........
She sighed under her blue umbrella and continued walking under the pouring rain, knowing she missed another chance to see him. Maybe one day,she would make up to him.