Does your hand bleed when you write anything on a paper?

Does your hand bleed when you write anything on a paper?

Yes, it is so common to see my own blood spilling on a white paper, everytime I write anything on it. maybe I am lost in words, maybe it's because I am writing fast. Can you blame me?

the thoughts in my head go away quickly, i better write them quickly before they fade into the abyss. I get sad, everytime one of these thoughts slips from my fingers. it happens so often, i get depressed about the thoughts that got away. like birds, when you try to get closer to them. you want other birds to know that you meant to do no harm. but they don't listen.

same thing with papers floating in the air, you want to catch them, but the paper seems to be very afraid, so they always run away in the wind. making you chase them, giving you a false sense of hope that you will hopefully catch them. but you know and the paper knows that you will never catch them.

I try my best to capture the thoughts in my head, but it always seems too late. even if I try to remember them, they don't show up. It's like they get mad at me for not paying attention. Like dreams at night, I can't remember them no matter how hard I try.

I'm torn apart between the thoughts and reality. Where should I spend my time? Reality often seems benign, as one meaning less activities to another just leads to night, so I close my eyes and take myself to dream.

Can you blame me?

I have seen the things, hell I have been seeing the same things over and over and over again. The same sun, moon, clouds, stars, banners, billboards, products, glasses, roads, lights, people, children, birth, and death.

I have seen them all, all of them held a value but now, no longer. No longer they hold any value in my heart, I see all of them as a flat line. A line that is supposed to be there, connecting one meaningless interaction to another.

I am not jaded in life, but everything here is so Water. It was once a refreshing cold soda, now it's just water. No matter how hard I try, I can not see life as soda as it once was. I have to rely on my thoughts to twist real life into my world.

Each person sees things differently, I see things as a twisted version of Alice in the wonderland. I see...the difference.