untitled

like the fake edges of the reclaimed land my world is fake.
the imperfect land means there are holes and jagged edges.
just like the holes i am waiting to be filled up.
during high tide it is contented, during low tide it is barren.
when the waves crash in there would be a momentary high
when the waves draw back there is the pain of not letting go.
maybe i like the sea. it calms me and keeps me quiet.
water is so nice. yet so transient.

i duno wad im dng with my life. my happenings are so trivial yet they matter so much to me. is that selfish? i care. but without reciprocation its hard. how i wish everything is resolved. nothing on my part. but for all others around me. may there be peace then i can RIP