zenn bites...

self-destructive


so sick of all the "he says, she says",
so weary of the lies and cover-ups;
tired of being just one of many,
had enough of empty gestures, insincere words.

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sometimes, i really don't know
whether i should feel amused or disgusted.

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the worst bastard is the one who pretends he's not a bastard.

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took a slow walk home tonight,
just me, my music and a silent world.
darkness punctuated by the glow of street lamps,
borrowed light that shone on nothing and everything.
i see more clearly at times like these,
picking through the rubble in my mind,
unearthing what little that made sense,
attempting to rescue myself.

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there's nothing like a bout of illness
to bring about melancholic pensiveness.
only kaskade's "borrowed theme" on loop
and the whirl in my head
are keeping me company on this lonely night.