Maia Nebula!

The world is sick, but my smile is intact.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Now What?

A sea of utter loneliness expands before me. All which lies ahead of me is covered with a cold, white blanket of uncertainty. Even these words fall into oblivion in no apparent order—crazy suicidal hooks of ink jumping from a cliff. My heart is a limp balloon hanging from a mess of cobweb strings in an empty chest. People around me mutter goodbye, as do objects and sunny mornings. That charred leaf falling from a maple tree is a reminder of the decaying beauty that hung on to its own charm for too long.

Friday, August 01, 2008


You said you don't believe I'm alone. Of course I'm not completely alone, you silly—but you clearly aren't among those who keep me company.