go away

I dread it when my past catches up with me. I lay restless as every time I close my eyes, everthing comes back to me. I am suffocating. Make them go away and let me be alone please.

Bipolar Disorder Type II

I'm a lunatic masquerading as normal sane everyday you and me.

I talk to myself. Conversations with the unknown you see.

Stay away, madman on the loose! if only the world knew.

uni sucks

Both hypothetical architecture and academics are so full of shit. Most are detached from the realities and contrains of the industry, thus contributing little significance to architecture in the real world. Least that's from my point of view.

I have lost direction and moreover faith in formal architecture education.

lock me in

Back to old antisocial habits.

Maybe for the best

It is evident now the reason I distant myself; I do not want to feel vulnerable. To open up to others means that I give up that certainty. Maybe I am at my best being in a distance, observing more than participating.

Less get hurt and I feel less painful myself.

Feel

need a word to be forgiving
need a hand to take you down to size
you're there with the world on your shoulders
bedded down
you know it's a lie
feel how i feel
hard to live in your confines
hard to give when everything's untied
hard to know the thoughts that you keep
underneath all that rhetoric
feel how i feel
you know how i feel

-Feel by Nicola Hitchcock

Wonderwall

I suffocate. I watch as the life I could have had passes me by.
I am lost in time. I am freed but hardly am truly free.
I am disillusioned. I served a sentence I was not willing.
I got caught in the midst of change standing still.
Realisation came just a little too late. I want back.

How lost? - richard cory part 2

The question just drives me bloody nuts because I can have everything and still have nothing. I don’t write much nowadays because I’m bored of repeating the same ol shits over and over again.

It’s almost like I live a double life, the high-flying driven chap that has got everything and everything worked out and the little chap within me, bounded by the walls of my very own conscious, dying bit by bit.

At times like this I have no idea how to carry on living. As paradoxical as it is I have to be the high-flying driven chap because I hope all that I’m doing now will lead to the end of all this and yet the discrepancy between both is absolutely killing me.

I have no fucking idea who I am anymore. All points of reference erased, all bets are off.