"SOS means someone help me"

I still know it's so stupid of me

when I'm that someone who thinks the world of you

and to you, I'm just another person in the world.

What am I supposed to do,

when something you say or do,

actually everything,

seems to spark up new hopes;

when indeed

I'm really rather unimportant to you.

I'm really muddled up, tangled and wrapped in a mess that I've thrown myself into.

I wish you were more sensitive to these things sometimes.

B.

"And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world."

Today's been a rare occasion of which everyone (the four of us) was able to put down

what they were doing and get laid back for a while.

It simply consisted of four cousins strolling about Stanley's harbourside park

but perhaps with the dawn working it's magical pallette at the sky,

it appears much more atmospheric.

Though we might've not been able to chat up each other all the way through,

but the love was definitely strong and existent.

That's quality time spent together :)

I love you all,

we needa march on forward to pursue all our dreams,

and we shall hit the world with such great pact that we'll startle them all!

x

B.

"I'd like to celebrate you, dear,

All in all it's been a pretty good year,

I looked deep within myself,

I got scared by how hard I fell..."

So when and how exactly are we going to pick it up again?

Or...never?

I still want what we've had,

even if it just went on that way,

because I feel a little flight at the heart

whenever I hear from you.

Chasing after this,

I might as well be dead

because I know well enough for a fact that nothing's ever going to happen for real.

It's all just a loophole of misunderstanding.

God, and I'm deservant of this

because I remain a believer,

a dreamer,

remain someone naive and stupid?

B.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers,

Singing my life with his words.

Killing me softly with his song,

Telling my whole life

With his words..."

We've all had those moments where a song appears to be threaded,

stitched right up against your heart,

in that it's able to describe that particular feeling so well

that it seems the frequency in which your heart beats to

have formed the song.

Killing Me Softly is as beautiful as a song could get;

it's timeless - it still makes my heart melt everytime I hear it.

More touching still, when I found out today that it was

actually written about Bob Dylan.

--

As these days of non-communication pass me by,

I turn my focus onto the wooden soundbox,

practicing,

perfecting the timbre that shakes off in response to the impacted strings.

I hope, by the time I leave home, I'll have a handful of old songs I could take with me,

to everywhere I go.

So many that I could pick up a guitar anytime and any place,

and be able to voice out what I feel using songs from the past.

B.

How about planning for an escape to a small town with a loved one,

going on cozy trips to the sea,

strolling down brick lanes with flowerpots hanging outside french windows.

I'd like that.

B

"I don't wanna go another day,

So I'm telling you exactly what is on my mind.

Seems like everyone's breaking up,

and throwing their love away..."

I feel extremely desperate,

just to try and get things back on track.

This isn't even normal.

What the fuck happened?

--

I just want to know,

if what I thought existed between us

did exist, for awhile at least.

Why am I still waiting to hear from you

everyday?

B.

"A life goes by,

Romantic dreams must die...

So close to reaching that famous happy ending,

Almost believing this one's not pretend..."

The process of healing's like searching for a blooming blossom

under the harsh winter weather,

The only solution to which is time;

so to bring in the warm air once more,

which harvests the young and new,

so to blur and put in the distant

the less admirable momentos of the past.

The cure to heartbreaks

is time.

B.