don't you wish you could just pick up and leave; join in on one of those terrible teenage runaway anthologies.  the idea is more than obsurdity, but an idea too fantastic for words.

i don't want to be this anymore.

//in that moment of scheming

it comes on the wind

the last thought to materialize

interwining within you skin

it's the truth too obsurd

but truth all the same

with delicate secerets

mesmerizing the fear you obtain//

could it be insanity? could it be delirium?  the only known thing is that it's all reality.  it's all real.  it's real.  everything is horribly right, and so horribly wrong.  let's be complicated in saying that it'd be nice to start over, everything from scratch.  why don't we surgically remove my face so the french can give me a new one?  i want to be somebody else.  something else.  anything else. 

everyone's dying.  grandma millie died today.  i never visited, i never said goodbye.  i never treated her as i should have.  i hate myself.  and isn't it pathetic?  i'd like to say so, because i am desperately pathetic, and for once i don't give a damn anymore.  i could  careless about anything, about you, about me, about life in general. 

i wish i did, but i don't.  and the funny thing is, the stars won't make anything come true anymore.  they used too, o how they twinkled in your eyes.  and i could count from miles away that they weren't dying in decay.  they grew, reborn to the universe just for a wish.

but they're all dead now.

inevitably sought demise.  my wishes were too much.  pathetic.  desperate.  undeserving.

just let me fly, so far away.

and this is how life swirls by, with  late night book reading in the dismal blue serenity, eyes straining to keep up page by page. and then it all ends.  last page is read.  epilouge.  and here's where we die, because she dies, and the irony is that it's not her that i cry for, but myself.  sprawled in pillows clinging to feverish sweat, bellows emit into tear stained blankets.  and life is never fair.  because he died.  he died.  he's dead.  dead.  and i regret that i never loved him.  i didn't love him enough, and now maggots are eating his insides.  and he's still dead, as i continue to shudder and shake with pathetic remorse of regretting all i didn't do.  and the worms still fester, and i still shudder.  it's been five years, five long years without him, and i'm fogetting.  i can't remeber the last time i  spoke to him, our last words, last thoughts; because you never think it'll be your last, so it doesn't remain clear. and i'm still forgetting, his voice, his smile, everything that was him.

i'm fogetting

and regretting

regretting everything.

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Matthew!

1. If you drop matthew from more than three metres above ground level, he will always land feet-first.
2. Czar Paul I banished matthew to Siberia for marching out of step.
3. Baskin Robbins once made matthew flavoured ice cream!
4. All swans in England belong to matthew.
5. In Japan, matthew can only be prepared by chefs specially trained and certified by the government.
6. Only twelve people have ever set foot on matthew!
7. Humans have 46 chromosomes, peas have 14, and matthew has 7.
8. Only one child in twenty will be born on the day predicted by matthew.
9. Research indicates that matthew will be attracted to people who have recently eaten bananas!
10. Matthewolatry is the mindless worship of matthew.