Hail to the guardian of the tower of the south,
I invoke thee!
Come and take over this dried field of mine!
Resurrect thy power from within the soil I stand upon
for here I am bended and broken down
bleeding out my residue of love, passion, affection!

Hail to the guardian of the tower of the south,
I invoke thee!
For my fortress is no longer strong holding
the downpour of the molten red lava from my eyes.
This worn out heart can't save herself anymore,
soar right away into me!
Redeem me once again!
Reborn me!

worries

I'm back to where I used to be and am even going on further into this dark pit. I know what kind of torment is waiting for me there. But I am going on further still. I put my self at stake again just to find out, that it will never ever going to get better between us. Perhaps it is better for some time, but I know for sure, that I will have to rip my guts out all over again....just to create a distraction for myself and thus ease the heartache. I know I have to install my shield again and go away as far as the wind can take me, or that time will come.

my wreckage ship; one

It’s naturally not easy to find yourself down in the dumps. Especially if you know that there is not a big chance for you to crawl back up to where you used to stand. People say, if you want to make a change of your situation, you should just stand up and do it. They say it’s the problem of your mind. However, sometimes I find it more comfortable to stay here in my dumps after you just got punched a few times in your face. People are keep on crying out: “Go ahead and save your soul!” But they just don’t know and don’t care. What if I don’t want to be saved anymore? I am just tired of being accused of things I am not responsible of, or being told to do things I really don’t want to do, or to get stapled with packages of disappointments. So I would just sit here in my dumps and enjoy the process of my fading out. No one would ever notice, anyway.

"you might call him dull, but he smiled whenever he saw me and we could have built a life on it." an excerpt from the movie "Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day".

A Schizophrenic State

Can someone tell me where my fairies go? I was so busy coping with life it didn't dawn on me instantly. The clamors of the city dimmed the tiny voices of my fairies. It was like being struck by a colossal lightning: I was finally aware of their absence. Where did they go? I used to have them with me all the time. They used to talk to me, encourage me, comfort me, accompany me. But now there is not a single trace of them and strangely, I can only vaguely recollect their faces. I swear they were there all the time. I could swear that.. Perhaps...

Where do my fairies go?

Trapped

Life can really get on your nerves sometimes. And when it does, you just want to bury your head deep in the sand, so that you won't have to get acquainted with all the ugly winged wearies from the pandora box. Just when you think all is going on well, you realize you're standing on a quicksand because you were too overwhelmed by your success. without compromise are you sinking into the sand. You just wanted to bury your head, but now you get the whole bonus treatment. All those success can't give you a hand and help you out. You end up alone being depressed and thinking how it's all gone wrong, collecting milestones of memories you piled on the corner trying to figure out why it went wrong. Perhaps you should let it all go. No more fights. Just let everything go and accept your situation whilst wondering why that stupid woman opened the forbidden chest on the first place.