Mocking My Own Misery

I used to write blogs so thought out. The depth of them was very constructed. But now, now i just tend to write. I don’t have an outline in my head. Often times i type something up and decide it’s not worth publishing.

I tend to have this idea that when I make contact with her eyes, i can convey every bit of misery that’s inside me. I’m wrong.

Are nights like these the cost of having something so incredible?

This isn’t about being sad. This is about being uncertain. It’s about being afraid. It’s about nothing at all. I’m only in love. I hold everything when i hold her.

I enjoy your confusion. Am I the only one who can have fun with my misery? I just wish i could keep misery out of my fun.

It’s all a good thing tho. I have great memories. That’s not saying anything about my past or future. I just want to sleep tonight

Perhaps I should delete this line? This post?

To finalize this, here are lyrics that i won’t say anything about what connection to this they have. Because they have none. But would that explain why I include them?

“I thought you said forever
Over and over
A sleepless night becomes bitter oblivion
These thoughts run through my head
Over and over
Complaints of violins become my only friends”
-Anberlin