It’s weird because a part of me wants to tell you everything, and a part of me does not, because there are some things I’ve done that are the heaviest, and that I am not really proud of. But you make me feel like I don’t have to explain myself, and that’s very different from what I am used to. And I don’t really like talking about myself anyway, but it seems like that’s all I do.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
I do imagining my story
Just to make sure I am still a dreamer, I read books
Mystery, love, friendship, heartbreaking, happy endings...
How I wish it was me, my story about 200 pages and I will be content
How I wish it was that easy, the good the bad and it will lead me to enchanted
Just to make sure I am still a dreamer, I sang my favorite songs
I smile to myself; a song resembles to who I am
It was just that easy...
By imagining it the pain went away...
Just enough
Sometimes I feel like I am not enough. I am convincing that I am not smart enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not normal enough, not mysterious enough, nothing much enough...
Over confident much? Not.
Not that lucky enough... unfortunately, I have just enough strength to hold on to life.
Recipes of life
1) Chop some hate and melt it down, add a dash of tears,
2) Spoon in a bit of modesty and evaporate your fears.
3) Take a slice of hurt you felt; now add it to the pot.
4) Sprinkle lightly with some shame, let it all get hot.
5) Now prepare your pride with elegance, and leave it to one side,
And get your hands all sticky, with the secrets that you hide.
6) Grate some anger and some guilt; mix it all with love,
Now you need a piece of soul, I recommended you to wear a glove.
Add a ‘thank you’ and a ‘please’ and try a ‘love you too’.
Let it simmer for a lifetime, and then enjoy your stew.
Really tasty I promise.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Beyond explaination
Why do color washed out? New stuff will eventually look aged... and love for lovers; yes it seems to be faded like all things will be – changing. I would do anything to make it stay the same, feel the same...
A mother love to a child never did fade... It is powerful and strong... Even you wanted to kill her she still loves you.... and you’re forgiven...
I want loves to not be fade. Replenish.
Selfish
Could I be selfish? My heart will not let me.
Abandoning myself and at all times put others I care about on the top of my list
Certainly, not wrong things to do. Will they realize it? Appreciate it?
It breaks me shattered my heart to pieces
Stay with me......
While I need a hands to guide me
While my knees are shaking I romp and force me
While myself ageing squeezing me tightly
To not fulfill my dreams
To nobody could reach me hear me screaming
Could I be selfish?
Indeed, I am
Since priority is not me, I shall just buried my needs.
The thing is...
Although there was something about her personality that everyone fell in love with, nobody could quite understand what it was; people had different way of misunderstanding her, and she knew this very well. She was still waiting for the one person for whom she did not have to explain herself constantly - the person that would finally understand who she is.
Everyone thought that she was either naive or reckless. But she wasn’t naive or reckless in the way that most people thought she was. She knew that people were not perfect, but she didn't want to think bad things about anyone, so she just chose not to. Her friends would warn her that not everyone is a good person that seems like one, and that she cannot rely on the kindness of strangers constantly, mostly because it’s dangerous. She would always respond saying that she did know, but that she would just rather believe otherwise. So her mindset was governed more by ignorance than naivety, and she insisted on keeping her beliefs not out of recklessness but out of idealism, as if believing in other people would actually make everyone become better.
Insanity. Perilous. She is out of her mind - No one is kind enough to bother her beliefs but stab her to death - at least, I am aware that humanity is cruel not the world.
Her life is just a wish
She was the kind of girl whose life has always been a wish…
and she was never sure if it was a wish of her own or of someone else.
Sometimes, when she felt alone,
She escaped into the thought where she found the company of others; the thought that her life was everyone’s wish…
The thought that everyone wished for her existence, and that everyone knew that she’s a beam of sunshine, bringing joy for the people in her life.
Nonetheless, she took all opportunities to make wishes too. She wished upon shooting stars, she made a wish on her birthday, she wished every day at 11:11, but also 3:33, 4:44, 5:55, and she also made up things for herself to wish upon, like yellow birds, wind chimes, and she prayed to God...
For all what she wanted will remain as a wish. She knew it. For the sake of others, she has to forfeit hers. She portrayed rough as smooth – does anyone understood her? She couldn’t do much to feel better...just by making a wish makes her strong, to move on and continue her journey.
Wish she could just talk to someone who understands. Tell them all everything about how she feel and they would know… not just from her explanation, but from feeling the same way. She presumes that’s too much to ask for. Or her friend sitting next to her might be that person, and she’s just overestimating what life should be like.
On the inside the walls echo her desperate sobs only for her to hear. She realize she can’t have what she want the most, but she try to stay strong like a fort, sparing the ones she care about of her own sadness, she collapse inside, exchanging her dreams to nightmares. She didn’t have a choice.
Rage
Unexplainable rage to myself. It's like part of me, part of who I am - Rage is a bad not a good thing. I am a sick person without a cure, probably for now - I rage me.
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