there's more to everything

"Oh, what I have made of myself. It's all my fault, all my fault..."

Full of desires, I am starving ... my soul terribly aches ... cries and yearns ... to drink the winds ... to devour the stars ...

i long to know how it feels to be alive...

"I don't know anymore..."

"to seek her often felt like stepping into a forest enveloped by an eerie fog... i couldn't precisely see who she really is or where she is, but my soul ached to grasp her mystifying spirit..."

the ever-changing sky still feels so familiar...

haunt or be haunted.

the thought of death kills me!

my mind is both a home and a horror house.

Whose life am i living? Am i living at all?

note to self:

will escape into a book now

the cold windy nights, my beloved.

to taste death while being alive is somewhat divine, perhaps some blissful blessing in devilish disguise.