
i just feel like dropping out of time, out of life. reclusive in my own little world. my glass sphere where i can look out into the lives of others but they never do see me. a one-way mirror? hmm..
let the cards fall
i'm building castles in the sky, knowing they will never come true, knowing they will always be what they are - castles in the sky.
i just want my song to take flight
like the uncertain butterfly testing its wings
maybe i will fly?
a ceramic vase just doesn't seem right without a myraid of spider web cracks
i just want an extra scar or two.
to highlight my imperfections
but also to highlight the would-have-beens
maybe i would shatter even before i'm showcased to the world
but does the vase even want to be displayed?
displays are only for the exquisite porcelain and delicate woodwork
not for the homely and cracked.
age plays a pivotal role in the lifes of collectors
a few years could make a huge difference in price
regardless of cracks
but does that apply to plain old ceramic too?
or is only the elite porcelain considered?
what an elitist society
does a layer of gloss and varnish detemine the value?
or the value the layer of gloss and varnish?
which comes first?
like hairs on the head
i want to be anorexic! to escape.
is escape a cowardly act or a sensible one?
what is that feeling which triggers us to bolt?
applauded or rejected?
the criterion is just too vague