Collection of honesty

The chimneys begin to smoke in my head, Children rushing out to play. Snowmans, Snowflakes, Snowball fights. Covering every inch of the day. The bells begin to ring in my head, Gatherings around the fireplace. Mince pies, almond pies, pumpkin pies, Presents wrapped in bobbin lace. Carols begin singing in my head, Celebrating Jesus's grace. Silent night, Silver bells, Jingle bells, A picture of Santa's smiling face.

The stars will never care for you, And the sun won't always shine. The moons sheds you coldness, The sun will make you blind. There are rooms locked in your heart even you won't ever find. You'll know never find a love that loves you as much as you do. You'll find yourself waking to a room with you alone, Opening your eyes to a foggy dawn, You reflect when life began to lose plan, Sometimes it's hard to keep breathing, But you can. *Inspired by Jade Sylvan, excerpt from “On Breathing”

2:00AM It's two o'clock in the morning, Technology's been keeping me up. Youtube, Twitter, Facebook, Eblogger, A new Tumblr made with my coffee cup. Is it even worth it, I ask myself, To create accounts no one cares about. Yet the freedom is my nicotine, Platforms for me to scream and shout. Suppose this is what hooks on- The phenomenal blossoming trend: That internet's social network lends. Our maybe we're all just desperate, To find a friend.

Some certain days you're not sure why, Happiness seems to bid you - ciao. Hoping to be calm or somewhat content, Lights go off, it's just you and your town. Knowing tomorrow will always come, You want to be unbothered- not too down. You try to be blithe, relaxed, carefree, Attempts are made, but you forgot how.

Blank covers dabbed in shades of black and blue, The canvas smothered in dark grim hue. Subtly the innocent white drains out by the few, Dominant colors of evilness spew. Raphael didn't do his best to keep the canvas true, Colors of collision he always eschewed, Picasso undividedly broke the pieces, Dividing the page of bruised colors imbued. *The purpose of using the artists names are simply for metaphorical use to underpin the issue of a broken friendship.

Our brain receives 4 billion information, But we only take in 4 thousand. This is why we have different truths, And a varied perspective, On a simple word like 'fashion'. We all posses our own 'truths', Hard for others to understand, Our 'truths' are just like the clothes we wear, "Armani, Levis, Brook Brothers..." Each with a unique brand. We don't always consent with people, When they have a different 'truth'. We can't seem to comprehend, With the illusion that- Your 'truth' is THE truth. When you don't agree on the 'truth'; With me- tolerate, And let it be, Cause when MY 'truth' comes to matter, You don't see what I see.

I know reflecting is an important process, It's something we all should do. I'm required to do it for everything, For drama, for english, for TOK too. Can't we return to how it used to be, When we all saw and knew: Instead of reflecting just accept- That roses are red and violets, blue.