goodbye, lay the blame on luck

I like to think that I'm a good person. I think that the world is a better place than what it might actually be. I think that one day, Ryan Reynolds will knock on my door, just by chance. I like to think that everything will be perfect and that sometime in the future, I will be the epitome of fulfilment and completion. And I think that this leads me to my current source of frustration; I think too much.



I am the Dawson Leery of my world. I overthink the events that happen in my life to the extent that, if these events were tangible, they would be mangled, faded and lumpy. I work myself up so much dissecting and overanalysing everything that happened to me- "what did she mean by that?", "why hasn't he called?", "why can't I look like that?" - even little things! I am meticulously organised in my head. I know what I'm going to be doing in an hour. I know what I'll be wearing tomorrow. So now, I'm thinking, what if I'm doing more thinking that actually living? What if I'm spending more time listening to my voice than to everyone else's?



I want to be spontaneous. I want to drop everything and run away for a day. I want to say the wrong things, and wear the wrong clothes. Part of me wants to fail something! Just one thing, just to see what happens. Does the world fall apart if I'm wrong? Do I still keep going? Or do I fall apart?



And now, for a dose of emo.



Well I talk

Too much

To myself

And I turn my back on my faith

It's like glass

When we Break

I wish no one in my place