Monday, May 10, 2010

niever gone niever was

have i mentioned my honest dislike of the internet? XD

okays, i'm blogging so that i dont have to do my homework..

Internet, you are my form of escapism and i hate you for that. sincerely.

ookay what to say~ what to do~

YOU! yes you the one yawning and saying get on with it you biatch..

i'm going no where so bugger off.. ahah ahah ahhah

wasn't that the most interestingly refreshingly sadly depressing way to laugh :)
oh do say yes, my love.

let me describe my new room. it's really high, about the height of 3 chiou yihs and it slants down so its kinda like an attic and at the very tallest point, there is a row of windows so that the rays of the sun shines in like a cathedral and i can lie on my bed and stare up at the dust dancing swirling in sparkling motes above my head and at night i can hear all the night time sounds, passionate love making of cats, shrieks of midnight creatures and all the stuffs of imagination come to life in the crevice of my mind. childhood is just stuffed with wonders.
and there is a huge shelf where we used to store our junk. i cant reach it even when i jump on my bed and i can climb up there on a ladder to see the sun set if i want to. in the night, it's the perfect food for my imagination. it's the perfect place for some dark creature to crouch on to watch me sleep, breathe soft and light as a feather, airy ethereal silver of moonlight. the perfect nightmare.

whatever.

i rEALLY should write my nie now.

but then again. what the heck. that's my latest tagline :D

i'm thinking aboot liearnin french.. but with my habit and unconditional love for procrastination, it shall remain nothing but a thought tucked in the attic of my mind.

two guys conversed in english on my bus. so sad.

i'm listening to one i love by meav. love it.

~They tell me he's poor, they tell me he's young
I tell them all to hold their tongue~

hahahahah hold their tongues XD


what to say..

oh.. okay i can't sing. my voice is tuneless neither high nor low. when i sing it ends up as a kind of screeching. to see people sing with absolute ease and unalloyed joy is to watch others soar when you have no wings. to submerge in the unadulterated happiness to music in its purest form, the dulcet tones of ones own voice, no obscene or bulky medium between one and music. and i'm in hell. but it is still beautiful to be able to see a person united with music in song however much it hurts.


Little white flowers will
never awaken you
Not where the black coach
of sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought of
ever returning you


sigh work beckons. fuck you, work.

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