March 29, 2009

My Worth.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Letters.


It isn't not worth it, is it?

Feelings, emotions.

Sometimes, I slip and make the mistake of thinking that I've matured. Believing that I have grown. But just as always, a series of events grabs me by the hair, yanking me back to this pitiful position. Scared and tainted. What could you do with feelings? You write tales of love and sorrow. You delve into the characters, giving them the brief breath of life.

Other than that?

No, don't answer.

Because it's all worthless. It's not worth it all.

There are those fleeting moments when I think that all of this is safe. That I am in sync with feelings as an ocean is with the sand. That I could handle it with the confidence of conceited youth. That loving your friends is a haven against those chaotic feelings of loving a stranger.

But I'm wrong, aren't I? Its worse.

Because when it hurts, there might never be a way to heal it.

Because I've ruined it. And I don't want to fix it.

I really don't want to.

Because I know no matter how much I try to pretend it's okay between us, you'll keep on summoning up ghosts from the past. You keep digging for skeletons. You keep tossing that between us.

Could it be that you're tired of this, too?

Because I know I am.

Let's both play another game, shall we?

When you pass me by the corridors, just say 'hi' and walk right on by.

Because those precious few memories between the two of us I am trying to bury. It's not your fault. But it was mine. So it's better if we just play pretend, act as if everything's okay, and we're fine. Because I know there will be a time when your own friends will turn to you, telling you that you're better off without me. And I will be stamped the criminal.

The animosity would be overwhelming. So I am saving my ass now. And we'll both be fine.

I thought that loving your girl friends would be a smooth ride. I guess not.

I suppose it's not worth it.



From Danielle O'Connor to Sophie Dorwood.


___________________________________


The workload is getting crazy now. I'm lucky to even be able to touch the computer now.

Hectic, hectic. And I don't have time for those kind of sappy rants anymore. So if you see that this blog has not moved an inch, think of it as "Faranza went into hybernation to use up all the fat she has stored."

And you'll be fine.


I need to cool off. Don't talk to me if you love me.

I'm not afraid to keep on living,
I'm not afraid to walk this out alone.

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