Off my rockers and On Tangent

So, last night, in between counting frolicking sheep doing the cha-cha across the gates, my thought held me hostage. By this, I imagine my thoughts to take human-shadow-like form threatening me at gun-point, tre`-cool, no?

To be honest, the way my mind works, it’d be less ala`-taken and more alice in wonderland-esque. As in I followed a white rabbit down a dark danky hole that led me to a land of hysteria, chaos; basically my subconcious is filled with castaway thoughts, hidden worries and broken dreams. What a nice wonderland wouldn't you say?

Breaking News

Mayor of Loony Town is basically having a small non-existential crisis, which surrounds her questioning her capability of being in a long-term relationship with the most wonderful guy she's ever been with. 

As in, I'm bloody scared. It's been a while? you know? and like I am so worried. so very worried and wary of messing things up. cause it's been 8 months and everything's been fine. and I don't wanna screw up. 

*cue the acoustic version of Been A While - Staind plays in the background*

He's not perfect in societal terms, far from it, but there's something about him that makes me feel like... he could be it you know? just. him, with his multitude of smiles; the hesitant one when he's confused, the bright one when he's proud of himself, the shy one when he receives a compliment, and my personal favourite is the one where he really smiles; with his wide grin and lit eyes, and you can practically see laughter in the air around him-

yeah, I sound insane, don't I?

Yeah. I do.

Going off on tangent about someone's smile does make one appear to have gone cuckoo. but I've always been a tad bit off my rockers loco 

but it's clear to say, I don't wanna mess things up. I really don't. it's just, I feel I will? and I know about self-fulfilling prophecies and I've been trying very hard to be positive,

but at night, in between covers and cushioned by my pillow, I can hear them whispering, saying I'm not good enough, that I'd ruin the whole thing, that he's better off without this insecure mess of a girl who loves to read, hates crowds and prefers to stay in.

I just... don't wanna mess up. 

Here's hoping I won't.

A Sense of Surreal

Is this real? You wonder as you scratch, surveying the scene with cursory eyes,

Is this really happening? And you see him sitting next to you, and your parents across,

And your brothers are in between, and you think

Is this real?

And your hands itch-itch-itch, to hold his hand, as he stutters and stumbles,

his mouth parsed with words, brain gearing for the right words in the right language

He’s trying.

And your heart soars, and it sings.

Can this be real? 

An easy grin fights its way up across your face,

Ears raising their tips up in the air,

And you feel a weightless light flow through you,

Maybe... this is real?

Your heart rattles and beats against the cage,

And your hands are clammy, and your mouth is dry,

And words echo alongside your sporadic heart beat;

Please, please, please-

 
Please, let this be real.