cosmic inadequacy

back in those days, i had always told you i missed you – that i loved you – because the melody of such words were soothing to my ears, just as i hoped it was for you. lately, it seems that our mouths were as dry as deserts, forcibly dancing around the "expected".

i'll just see how long i can keep up for. my health is waning and i really cannot care less if i die. also, my skin is itching to be scratched again. nonetheless, i still love you.

sidenote: i've done about 40 pages of notes for my upcoming examinations and i'm really tired. sometimes i just wished there's someone to share with me my emotional baggage or just to have a conversation with to let my mind off things