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bemyheroine
I'm dancing in the room as I would in the woods with you | ||||||||
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I'm waking up, and I see the world again.
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Friday, June 26, 2009, 5:53 PM
love game.
Hold me and love me I wanna kiss you But if i do then i might miss you, babe Just want touch you for a minute Let's have some fun, this beat is sick Let's play a love game, play a love game I'm on a mission and it involves some heavy touching, yeah Let's have some fun, this beat is sick Wednesday, June 24, 2009, 7:04 PM
babbles
play with my heart strings I hear you strumming with your fingers. plucking at the G's and the D's and finally I think, I can breathe you know what I wish I could do? I wish I could play the piano. I wish it came naturally, that I didn't have to learn. Then again, who doesn't? Let's see... Koh Phi Phi this weekend. I can't wait. I'm scared and nervous at being so far away for so long. Not to mention... =[ for 7 days. I'm gonna miss you. Then there would be all the packing and stuff. I always had this fear of not bringing something really important. haha. scarrrry. Tuesday, June 23, 2009, 9:37 PM
Returning to Sand - Tamar
Fate driven deep under the waves Falling asleep to the rhythm of days Leaving this town with wings and a prayer A past made of thorns The edge of defeat Time will mend what we've broken The light after the storm I'm not afraid to fall... not anymore. Monday, June 22, 2009, 8:25 PM
I'm sick of being strong. I want you to save me , 8:15 PM
Ooh, Kelsey
just breathe in the scent that I love so much. I wanna be able to turn to you and touch your hand just relish the feel of your arms around me. I'm tired. exhausted. was watching How I Met Your Mother and Ted was about to cheat on Victoria for Robin. Victoria being his long distance girlfriend. I really hate watching things that seriously reminds me of all this. Yes, it is a TV show. but you know, as the audience sides Ted cause after all, he's the main character, I feel her pain, vicky. gah. now the moods ruined. =[ I just want you home. to call me and comfort me. But I'm afraid its too much to ask. I know I act nonchalant, I do try. As hard as I can, but some wounds are hard to heal. I try forgetting about them, but the extent of the damage, is a little too much to take in for now. it takes time to heal, i know that. but I didn't know it took time to feel it. Feel it truly and really. and I do. I do. and it hurts. and it sucks. I just wanna see your face again. I miss you. now I wake in the morning, to see you again. Thursday, June 18, 2009, 10:31 AM
The Waiting Room
We were all waiting. The white washed walls felt almost threatening, not a single mark could be seen on them. The odd child here or there sat on the floor, weary at this unfamiliar environment. Glaring white light reflected off the black surfaces of the cold plastic black chairs and into our eyes. It hurt to look at the light. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying to erase the blue-black dots that filled by vision, not unlike an annoying itch on the back, they stayed. An old woman hummed peacefully as she lay back onto her chair. Quiet, careful conversations filled the air, like a thick blanket of mist that covered us. I tried to tune in on the happenings around me, the various topics that sprung up, from cold turkey to monster trucks. But I soon lost interest in them. Instead, I stared in amazement at my hand. A hand that I could control. When I was about 15 years old, I had watched my mother die. The day after, I was diagnosed with that same disease that killed her. Huntington’s was a neurodegenerative disorder that caused abnormal repetitive movements. We were one of the same, they had always said, my mother and I. We had the same eye colour, hair colour, even freckles and birth marks. My grandfather had always remarked upon the amazing likeliness that our personality had when my mother was a child. It was no wonder we shared the same brain-killing disease, no surprise at all. Life is different when you know that day by day, you’d lose functions of your body parts. When you know that day by day, your brain, your body, slowly, suffocating, dying, drained of all life where you could not walk or talk or eat or play ever again. It started in my fingers, causing me to lose my job as a journalist when I was 24. Then it spread to my arms, which caused me to lose my freedom to eat, then my body, feet, legs, and then slowly, I watched myself turn into a jerking, shaking vegetable that needed to be cared for 24/7. Screaming and crying I could not escape what I had become. Death, was my greatest release. I honestly never thought it would come to this, sitting in this room, with the company that I had with me. It was clichéd really, being here, you’d think that the whole heaven and hell idea had came from commercialism, but instead, here I am, proven wrong from my very stubborn ideas of atheism. Hell, the word now excites me. I remember the countless debates I had with by creationist friends that were bent on changing me into believing that there were such things. But while I drank myself silly, and did the many, many things I shouldn’t have done, I shrugged them off, sticking to my own idea that the world was too cruel to have been watched over by a higher being and I was proof of that, doomed to die even before I had a chance to live. Ironic really, and now I’m here, before any of them. If only I could tell them that they were right. If only I could see them one last time… At the end of the room were two doors, one black and one white. It was obvious enough without the ominous feeling that emitted from behind the black door which door led to what. Funnily enough, between them was a man who stood behind a great big desk with an ancient looking book, reading out names and where they would go. What greatly surprised me was the number that went through that black door. One in a hundred I would say, maybe human kind did have a chance of survival after all. Many things about this place did not make sense to me. Why a book and not just a computer? Why are we organized in such strange ways? And then my usual cynical, argumentative side kicked in. Was it right that someone out there has a power to decide where we were to go in our afterlife? I shuddered as a sharp jolt went up my spine, silent regret filling me. Does this mean I’m doomed for hell? I was, after all not what anyone would call a model student or even a model human being. When illusions of death banging down your door every second of everyday, it greatly affects the way you behave. But I guess it is not an excuse, all of us have always read inspirational stories of those that were doomed from the start, but still make the best of it. Phonies, that’s what I always called them. But I’m pretty sure if they were here, they’d be going through that pretty pure white door. So what are the grade boundaries? I could not consider myself a great person, but I don’t really think I’m an evil one. The glaringly white walls seemed to glower at me. I shrunk lower in my seat. Anticipation, combined with the feeling of limbs that I had not used in almost 7 years, caused my movements to be jerky and unsure. I closed my eyes, taking deep breathes, feeling the cold metal of the chair digging into my side, I needed to calm down before I collapse into a panic attack. I had to calm down. After so long, my name was called. The walk down the aisle felt like miles. I pushed the chair back, causing a high pitched scratchy sound to scream across the room, but I was the only one that noticed. My jerky movements causing me to stumble and trip several times, part of me wanted to rush to the table, to get it over and done with. But the other part of me was dreading it. The table seemed to move further away as I took each step closer. Beads of perspiration dripped down the back of my neck, and after what felt like ages, I stopped in front of the bored looking man. He looked somewhat strange to me, his feature were almost indefinable. They seemed to shift and change right before my eyes. It was as though I would never be able to recognize him if I were ever to see him again, that in my mind, his face was too ordinary, too simple to remember. He smiled softly at me and I nodded at him and closed my eyes. In my mind’s eye I could see his soft lips mouthing out my sentence as it echoed into my ears. Tears threatened to overcome me. I had never thought that it would come to this. Wednesday, June 10, 2009, 6:43 PM
I'm here
shadows on every corner the monsters crawling in the streets I'm alone on this boulevard. I'm here faded in the corners but I'm still here. time has never been on my side the clock ticking endlessly minutes, they run when I walk I'll disappear for a second. I'm here torn in my pages but I'm still here. I'm here worn out of words but I'm still here. x random. |
whenthelightsgoout
Said I hate you. But I lied.who thought she could own the world who knew love could taste... just so damn sweet too bad it kills you in the end. |
mymanyaddictions
broken and bleeding Jazz daily hero Redz on display Roo true to life Zheng my alternative Fung&&Bi hidden desires Adela a lost conspiracy Nat behind frosted glass Eli under the spotlight Shammie life's gift CS sweet nothings Mel two of a kind Bi truth Cal lose yourself Rico always there Drew all you need to know book reviews ever so thankful for Erica/a> awayfromhome
+ I realize that I can use this blog like a timeline... + Hello blogger.Hello myself.It's been a while since... + I feel sick,are my grievances for nought?It is the... + All Your Love + I am here quietly crying out in pain;will you save... + The Trap + I still see you fucking her in my brain. I'm sorry... + So today was day two. How did it go? Not very well... + Losing you is going to be more painful than anythi... + Well, this situation certainly calls for an:EFFEEH... livingthepast
+ July 2008 + August 2008 + September 2008 + October 2008 + November 2008 + December 2008 + January 2009 + February 2009 + March 2009 + April 2009 + May 2009 + June 2009 + July 2009 + August 2009 + September 2009 + October 2009 + November 2009 + December 2009 + January 2010 + February 2010 + March 2010 + April 2010 + May 2010 + August 2010 + September 2010 + October 2010 + November 2010 + December 2010 + January 2011 + May 2011 + June 2011 + August 2011 + October 2011 takeabow
designer: venomous inspiration: ++ |
screamyourheartout
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