7 days.

"The shadow of our past,

Project on clouds of dust and gas

The ones where my eye will rest

A Silhouette of loneliness.

If you see these tears fill in my eyes

It's just the wind that makes me cry

If you could feel this pain inside

It's just the drinks we drank last night

It's just the drinks we drank last night..."

So the hours that follow after midnight,

we've decided to toast and drink away to our departure.

Dancing. under the blanket of heavy beats is inevitable.

Now how the hell did this lead to walking into the arms of an unknown stranger

and allowing him to touch me all over?

I felt no connection,

except a playful desire to keep him attracted;

I didn't want him in particular.

How good would it be, if we had this kind of bodily contact?

I want you only,

but you're never here.

What am I 'sposed to do?

B.

8 days.

"I thought I found the man of my dreams

Now it seems, this is how the story ends

He's going to turn me down and say:

Can't we be friends?"

In the wee small hours of the morning...

I choose to think about you.

The thought of instability,

not knowing whether the foot leaping outwards is going to step on solid ground

generates discomfort.

I don't cope well with insecurity;

it doesn't happen to me often,

but when it does, they are big issues,

leaving me at a point more vulnerable than ever.

I want to hang on to you,

but there's no point really when love is a manner of two people's way of interaction.

9 days. And a life's worth of childishness.

"Tombent les nuits a la lueurs de bougies qui fondent

Et que la lumiere soit

Passent les heures que s'ecoulent a jamais les secondes

Et que la lumiere soit..."

Beautiful lyrics.

I would've never come across Keren Ann's wonderful music had it not been...

yet another conflict with my dad,

on a topic tres juvenile.

Excuse my lack of accents by the way - can't be bothered to learn how to type them.

Who knew missed phone calls could result in a ... meeting with my father, ruined.

I hope he realises that this is one of the last times he'll see me before I leave.

This is just so perfect.

He was the reason I want to be away from home to start with,

and the feeling just got stronger.

There's quite a list of people I'm going to miss though.

B.

"Well, it kind of hurts when the words you write

And kind of turn themselves into knives,

And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction,

'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear,

'Cause here we are,

Here we are."

I don't know what we are,

but right now, I just know that I really want to see you.

I need to.

B.

"How was I to know that this was always only just a little game to you,

All the time I felt you gave your heart I thought that I would do the same to you.

To tell the truth I should have seen it coming from a mile away..."

Once you're put on life support,

there is basically no other option.

No one expects a sudden recovery,

and spontaneous jerks of energy are no signs of hope.

No matter how hard the body's system tries to fight back,

it is inevitably, going through the process of decay.

The only variation from body to body

is the duration, the length of time it takes

till the organs reach the eventual stage of disrepair,

dysfunctionality.

In that specific scenario,

discomfort is hailed in from all directions;

the patient, ofcourse, suffers the more direct physical pain.

Yet, as those who've undergone these situations,

it's normally his closest;

family, friends and people of the like-

that suffer from pain in it's prevailing form.

Nothing hurts more than having to watch a loved pass.

Nothing hurts as much as to have to

watch love die.

and babe,

it hurts, like hell.

B.

"All I really wanna do is to love you,

The kind much closer than friends use,

But I still can't say it after all we've been through

All I want from you is to feel me,

As the feeling inside keeps building,

I'll find a way to you, if it kills me, if it kills me."

Still yearning and twisting a bit,

for the fluttering heart is looking for a safe spot to land.

I wish there was another way out of this than to just wait for the arrival of something new.

B.

"Woke up and wished that I was dead

With an aching in my head

I lay motionless in bed

I thought of you and where you'd gone

and let the world spin madly on."

I feel like I've moved on.

The emptiness no longer kills me;

wrenching at the heart whenever something reminds me of you.

Perhaps 'cause it's had enough as well,

and what feels like ripping burns are being defended against,

out of numbness.

It has been way too long,

much too long for me own good.

Yet the acknowledgement of this new-found liberation

is not reacting quite positively with the rest of my system.

I've been insomnic, thinking about the whole thing.

But on the other hand,

there are so many other things that are more satisfying.

It only takes a gather-round between family and friends.

I have a feeling that I'll actually miss this place quite a lot.

2 weeks exactly.

B.