i have a highly unnoticed longing inside of me, which is basically what i feel, my longing hunger for deeper understanding. i hate it, when i read a book and i feel like i can't engorge the entire meaning of the story, or at least most of it. i like understanding what i'm dwelling into. if there's one thing i dread, it's unpredictability. some might say life is unpredictable and yes, that's one of my problems with not knowing what's going on. because, i like to know. i'm not a planner, but i like the knowledge.

so why is it, this time, i have no deeper understanding of this? i have intuitions like everyone else and silent superiority really annoys me. i really need a deeper understanding of this, because i don't understand you and how manipulative you've become. i don't and i won't lie and say i do.

right now, i feel like i'm in a capsule and it's taking me to places i can't seem to maneuver out of. where's that control, recognition and comfort? where is the knowledge and serenity that people seem to attain out of nowhere? why do effortless things take so much effort to complete, why do unattainable things seem so attainable at first? it's like a bulb faltering and then eventually fizzing out. i can't seem to find the power.

i like things made obvious. why do we need a facade?

it's like anakin in starwars, who says things the way they are. like, "this kiss torments me." why does it have to go on a whole journey and explain the procedure of the kiss?

feelings matter.

i don't really care to know the injection of the feeling, because i'm only living out the latter.

i can only say how i feel in some weird, drama-prose poetic manner. my thoughts have been wired in such a melodramatic form and i sometimes feel i'm too farcical for my own good. i seem to have lost touch with reality, except for the biting sound of imogenheap.