I really don't know.

  I'm lost. in a sphere, a pretty big one. No corners to hide, no exits to slide into. Hello, can anyone hear me ? I'm scared. Bring me back to him. He's waiting for me. He's asking for an assurance. What if I wont get out ? I wouldn't want him to wait. It's a long way and it would only cost him pain. I don't want to see him cry. But he's waiting for me. Someone help me, help me get out of here. It's not dark but it still feels lonely. I'm scared. I have been crying. There's no tissues around to sob it away. Is this a sleep paralysis ? Someone help me. A ladder, please ? A tiny hole ? Someone, anyone, help me. help us.

Ya Allah ya tuhanku, help us.

 I'm not sure what I want to talk about. I just feel like I should update something. There's actually a motherlode of things I would love to let out, but I don't know who to tell. They say God is always there for you so no need to complain when you're alone. God will always listen.

 But hey, there's a reason why God decided to put a bunch of us human beings on one planet. There's a reason why God decided to let us communicate with each other using our mouths and other insignificant dirty things. There's a reason why God let us have friends, lovers and well, counsellors ? lol.

Everyone needs a buddy.

  A cool person would proclaim that one have heard such a song before it got famous. A cooler person would tell that person to get their hipster genitals somewhere else because everyone deserves to know. But the coolest person would be the one to just shut the fuck up and enjoy the good music they find.

  I feel like I want to punch myself with a fist armed with a cluster of authentic Yves Saint Laurent arty rings. That would be almost heavenly appropriate, while heaven itself is boiling in the broth of unknownness on the back of my head. It's exhausting, it's almost heart-aching and it sends me into a place I myself rather not set my foot on. But I don't have a choice. Horses on lines, audiences on them decks and here I am watching them go. Go as they sail away into those grass fields. Them grass fields that remind me of those good old days when I need not to think about all of this. On Moon cycles I would assure myself that such a situation is indeed normal. Bridges of shits and ultra nonsense would start building these little things in my head called 'hopes'. Like it's not so bad after all. But I just can't take it. I don't want to think about any of these. No black socks, no hairy legs. nothing.

  If nothingness was a choice, to be obliterated in a cute second without any pain and nothing to pay, then nothingness it is that I would choose. Not this.

If I had a choice, it would never be this.

What People Think I Do

sorry for the lack of update. ;_;;

Pierce.

A sketch I did this morning. I'm making myself draw guys and guys because I just suck at anatomy and proportion, especially on males.