I love the worst kinds. We’re all building ourselves right? Under construction and then finally to establishment, only to find ourselves soon in destruction. I rebuild, I rebuild, I rebuild…but I love the worst kinds, so I find myself never having proper foundation. My infrastructure beyond flawed and demolished, that there is hardly any beauty from within. And I continue to love the worst kind as if some day,
they’ll finally be able to understand my blueprint under all that debris.
damn…
Orc(his)tra, Symphonic Sorta Love
There's an orchestra in his voice, and I'm convinced that when he speaks, his thoughts are led by a visionary conductor. His body is a concert hall in which I want to fill. He'll speak to me, and little does he know, my very existence is in standing ovation silently applauding with every blink of the eye, and every beat of a cardiac muscle I once almost abandoned.
I want to be his..
(muse)ic.
now that’s how you use words



