52 - Marigold

the clock is slow.


so, strange.



 i was looking for definitions, instead of studying, and i'm sitll not but at this moment i'm not bothered. and i was reading back, and found this:
http://haveyoumetharvard.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/so-thats-what-enter-without-so-much-as.html

(soz lol6^)


and the strange thing is, that was only a couple of days after the first wednesday of the term. I said:

"I'm sorry if you saw me yesterday and, well, I'm a bit sorry if you didn't see me yesterday."

 that was a long time ago.



I don't remember exactly how it all started. But my demons must have come long before I could attribute the blame to anything but fate. That's what I would like to think, at least.

Something must have went wrong while my brain was developing back then, and then they must have came in and settled there. And they lay dormant until something could happen to me, and give them a reason to tear me down. 


They did a good job, didn't they.


I said many things which were only for me to understand, but you could tell something wasn't right. You could tell something wasn't me. I wrote about how my favourite writing device was "subtext", if I recall correctly.

They snapped at me for a long time, painful. But it wasn't really until that Wednesday that I stopped struggling and let them drag me into the ground.

I didn't really stand/ much of a chance, I was unprepared, coming back to cold realities.

They didn't stop hurting me there. And I didn't
stop
, either.

They snapped at me for a long time, and I wondered why not just gather up all of that pain and take it in one single dose. I wondered why not gather up all the pain that is and every will be everywhere every thing and take it in one single dose for everyone.

"the world" - pseudonym long gone.

There were things that stopped that from happening, though,
mainly the fact that it's simply impossible, and too metaphoric.

I think it's more sensible and healthy to spread things out evenly.

Maybe I'm lucky and things could have been much worse. Maybe in some parallel universe they gathered up all of their efforts and saved it for one slash.

And by maybe, I mean definitely, because that's how parallel universes work.


I don't remember when they finally obeyed after I finally told them to stop.

Maybe they never obeyed, and they're gone, I escaped from them.
although i doubt that, they will catch up again one day

Maybe they dragged me down into their fiery world, and while falling and flailing I grabbed onto anything to stop my fall.

Maybe the crumbling rocks then dust were ashes of a phoenix.



They knew all along that I would rise from their vinculis. It made them maesta. It made me maestus.
Because I didn't know any better of the world.