Thursday, June 07, 2007'♥
-lost trails-
she woke up alittle later than usual today. The body just wouldnt heed the screams of the dingy alarm by the bedside. It couldnt register the glare of the morning sun creeping in ever so innocuously either.Her head hurts.
It got to be the vodka . again.- another instance of her inability to measure up to proportions.Wait. doesnt she has an issue with measuring up to expectations and lost hopes too? she wished she was a little stronger - to say no, to know better, that she shouldnt go back to the old days of self wallowing , of self indulgence ,of succumbing to temptations.
That fondly familiar, yet foreign taste.How and why should a cig be so sedating to all that dissension?Surely, it cant be the watching of ebbing trails of smoke dancing along with melancholic reruns of her old loves , the reminiscences of laughters and tears of her fond ones, of the aging matriach, of fleeting images of pain and joys of days of old?
she feels older than she really is , on a thursday morning as such.
Maybe it's because how she always find herself, falling only too often,for the same old mistakes .
The same old mistakes that she would obstinately fend for ;
The same old miscalculation in characters, the same old neglects of her own being.
The same old prohecy of having providence proof her otherwise time and time again.
The same old faux pas , that any wiser man, would have known otherwise to avoid.
The same old road, that she has been treading on for the past couple of years.
Gone has to be the days, of the imperious youth and decisions made at whim.
Gone are the days of a happier youth, of a life otherwise.
Let there be no more of embittered, forgotten regrets, but sanguine hopes and gratitude of the days ahead.
Her baggages have yet to be packed, but the jet plane to the start of her new life is already awaiting.
11:45 AM
