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[Dec. 5th, 2009|04:26 pm] |
You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting.
- Tinkerbell |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|08:51 pm] |
  Sigh. I could get used to all of it. OK SPANISH TIME |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|02:42 pm] |
Just follow me, one oatmeal said to another, just come along and take my fingers, carefully, now.
Onwards they went, sidestepping tiny whirpools of milk and fruit.
They sang and laughed and didn't see the beagle that came to stand before them. It towered over them, baring little, stout teeth that curled in impatience. The beagle wore black eyeliner and had a face that looked just like sexy Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel.
TRRRUUUUMPEEEEETTTTT!!!!! an earth-shattering, universe-toppling, cosmos-wrecking voice rang across the dirty grass and Bill the beagle spun around in horror. His eyes cried in fear.
He turned to throw a smouldering look at the oatmeal, who were now bored and skipping around a ring of roses, curled his lips at them and warned you watch out now, you beautiful, tempting, delicious oatmeal... I'll be back to ravish you...
Take my fingers, carefully, now, one oatmeal said to another, just follow me. And onwards they went, sidestepping tiny whirpools of milk and wonderful, wonderful fruit! |
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| i feel it all i feel it all the wings are wide the wings are wide |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|10:13 pm] |
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Brought Gusty out for a very short walk to bask in good, crisp, after-rain weather and boy, IS SHE GETTING FAT. The leash would have choked her to death if Siska didn't loosen it by two metres. Wonder what our super duper hyper vet is going to say about this fatty bom bom tomorrow... |
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| papa stop reading this |
[Nov. 24th, 2009|01:02 pm] |
Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life … you give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like "maybe we should be just friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love.
- Neil Gaiman (Rose Walker, in Sandman #65)
Which is why I am going to catch up on the Sandman series soon. love this guy.
OK - one bowl of laksa, a sausage, iced ovaltine, mini concerts with 3oh3 and Katy Perry and bouts and bouts of wasting later, I'd better start revising again for the exam later. Ugh |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 22nd, 2009|08:35 pm] |
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some people can be so fucking irritating. all i wanna do during moments like these is march up to their smug know-it-all faces and sprinkle toxic into their smart aleck mouths. Good. Shut your trap and keep your opinions to yourself ok? Nobody's really interested.
Right. Back to miami ink and my french toast with honey (which i just gobbled up minutes ago) and then MORE reading at gege's. I'm hoping pat gugu's doing ok too.......poor thing. |
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| Thinking of you. |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|11:17 pm] |
"I love you. I still love you, I know I always will.
There is nothing to question, it's just the way it is. I think of you even when I don't think of you. The love I have for you is mostly a flimsy veil of cotton, living in between multitudes of consciousness. I don't remember the love I have for you. I don't know if it has become an ugly jealousy or a long-forgotten wind. All I can say is that I love you, now. I will love you always. Because my love for you has become a part of my soul. There is nothing to ponder over, it's just the way it is."
now.. how can i feel dull while watching miami ink, these delightful delightful works of intricate, creative art on skin, as chris works his magic on my favourite chef bourdain, while kat von d shows off her expansively beautiful body on the letterman show, all this while listening to earth wind & fire blast Let's Groove Tonight on papa's com while he does the only thing that never fails to bring tears to my eyes - DANCE. he is hilarious and i love him. can't believe his friend taught him those moves. he must really hate him |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 19th, 2009|12:38 am] |
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dreams.
dreams of being out of dreams and a brave, lurid inclination towards leaping off the stony walls of a concrete reality... these things took hold of her legs and wrapped themselves around her neck, dragging her further and further away from the teary eyes belonging to those who loved and cared tremendously. she waved her arms wildly in farewell and they fluttered like shredded ribbons in the night winds. Beautiful. Beautiful strands of dreams taking hold of her, dragging her away somewhere far, far... somewhere distant and lovely. Nobody would call or talk or sing anymore. It would be a silent paradise. Silence... shhh. The sound of forgetting. |
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| What |
[Nov. 17th, 2009|04:43 pm] |
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A stupid day |
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| ...i. |
[Nov. 16th, 2009|09:51 pm] |
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i.
i
i is a pronoun.
i exists as nothing without you.
i
am nothing without you.
i might try to be something but i know i am nothing.
i might learn a new language but i know i am nothing.
i might explore new places but i know i am nothing.
i might kiss someone else but i know i am nothing.
i might read books all day but i know i am nothing.
i know i am nothing.
because i am mere smoke without you.
smoke that will fade
fade into the twilight
fade into the day
fade into the bowl of milk and cereal
fade into a novel
fade into the nightsky we made love under |
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| don't argue just come |
[Nov. 15th, 2009|02:30 pm] |
 I wonder what it'd feel like to have waves and waves of freedom rack through your body and course through every vein, coagulating your blood into thick masses, immobilizing your self but making you very, very joyful with that sweet, sweet taste. it must be an ethereal sensation. we could be halfway there and not even know it. hidden beneath all sorts of irrelevancies. yep, we could be halfway there and not even know it. :) |
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| pheweeeeet. |
[Nov. 14th, 2009|12:38 pm] |
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Remedy to LIFE = DON'T think + PRETEND people are singing all the time + FOLLOW katy perry's tweets + WATCH tv + EAT meepok = a BEAUTIFUL life. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 13th, 2009|01:32 am] |
she said to him "we are meant for each other. the hands that make the shadows of birds on a clean white wall are us, flying someplace that isn't here, isn't anywhere else. we are meant to take the plunge together, laughing our eyes out crying our eyes out loving each other inside and out. we are meant to understand everything together. when at night all i can feel is the touch of your hands across my naked body and your tender aggression when you suppress desire. we are. meant. for each other. you just don't know it yet"
he said to her "we are entwined but we cannot love. we are one but we have no fate. we could make love but we will always be bittersweet" |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|01:28 am] |
You sit in the chair and close your eyes. There is a soft rustle somewhere in the corner behind and you strain your ears to hear better. You cannot see but behind your eyes you know it is dark out. And very cold. You hear a prickly sound, like metal on metal. A sharp glint flashes behind your eyes. A low breath hums a tuneless melody. Something pushes into your chest and the pain hits you in waves of fierce intensity at first, rolling lolling, slowly ebbing away to become numbing ripples of pleasure.
You don't understand.
A chipmunk is sitting in your head. And then two. They are scouring for acorns, flitting across the wide expanse of grass in parks. Rabbits are scurrying all around, shredding pillows deftly. Warm, familiar breath fills the air and a tender scent lingers. Oren Lavie sings Her Morning Elegance somewhere in the corner, a funny-looking Bert peeking from behind his shoulder, crying at the sight of needles.
You don't understand.
Or maybe you don't really want to understand. You sit upright and realize the wind is coming in through your open window. And it flutters to your ear and whispers very cautiously,
"stay away November". |
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| Thank you,you. |
[Nov. 8th, 2009|09:15 pm] |
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Hugs. U have us. Me. We love you. I. |
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| sparks. |
[Nov. 6th, 2009|09:20 am] |
Gusty turned maniac this morning and now my leg's covered in scratches and almost invisible specks of blood. I still love her, though. Love how she sits by me so still and occasionally looks up at me with those sad poetic eyes. hehe
Off to eggmayosandwiching for us all puny hungry starving satanic mutant ordinary lovely beings |
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dreamofroses's journal
