It is a wonder how well I work and enjoy my own company after hours. A day was well spent re-organizing my library/antiqueshop/museum. It's remarkably clean now, though in the eyes of those rarely in the room, it is the same, funky smelled, messy, child-like room. My room could probably be (at this very moment) the most incredible thing I have achieved.
A lava lamp is now my new trophy. It was someone else's lamp and apparently he grew out of it. He knew I enjoy such antiquated objects, thus it being the light of my life. (?) Funny how most of my collections used to another's posessions. The chain between me and the freaky people amazes me. Am I bound to hold the lives of others, to dwell in their past, creates memories they had failed?
Well off without strings attach. On my own two wobbly feet. Imagining the day I stop imagine.
In The Name of...
Purpose of life is something I have yet to discover. Guess now I'll be writing down 'Having a private library' as one of my life purpose.Ironically, I have always hated the library (except those with wheels :) )
It is almost terrifying how I almost cry reading this book. Obviously, it is a well-written book, Russian author. They are one of my favourites. Anna Petrovna, Alexander Pushkin (However his name is correctly spelled) and of course Nabokov. The sad thing is, my mum would not let me buy books of military history or anything akin to it. What I am reading now is the product of my sneaky tactics and horrible squeaky smile. Next, Prague: In The Shadow of Swastika. Hopefully I can get hold of it and the Tsars.
Russians have pretty intriguing history, and of course the inhabitants. Never been there but would love to. Do the russians call St. Petersburg, Leningrad still. I'd be delighted to have a city named after me, in a weird twisted way. I guess Russians powered man loved the idea of people spitting their names out, regardless whether if it's for good or not. One thing that I can look up to those not so kind people is, they realized they will never be half as good as anything we'd dream of so why the fuck bother on pleasing shit faces. Never in my mind believe because of that we should all be evil beings.
Purpose of life, is evidently a myth. There'll never be A purpose of life since we are all greedy people. The certainty of that is unworthy of the world's attention but I may not be the only one to regard it as a fact. A pessimist I may be but better than thinking we are all walking on flowered layered glass and inhaling air of sweet scent of lives. Hmm...
" Our singing was not hypocritical for we were singing out our happiness at being alive. Happiness at being born contrary to all the possibilities calculated by men of common sense and in contempt of all the wars invented by makers of the History. Happiness at being born, living and knowing that there is nothing better in this world than the measued words of a woman with red hands seated in a room perfumed with the snowy chill of linen covered in hoar-frost. In the name of what... "
- Words from Confessions of a Lapsed Standard-Bearer
It is almost terrifying how I almost cry reading this book. Obviously, it is a well-written book, Russian author. They are one of my favourites. Anna Petrovna, Alexander Pushkin (However his name is correctly spelled) and of course Nabokov. The sad thing is, my mum would not let me buy books of military history or anything akin to it. What I am reading now is the product of my sneaky tactics and horrible squeaky smile. Next, Prague: In The Shadow of Swastika. Hopefully I can get hold of it and the Tsars.
Russians have pretty intriguing history, and of course the inhabitants. Never been there but would love to. Do the russians call St. Petersburg, Leningrad still. I'd be delighted to have a city named after me, in a weird twisted way. I guess Russians powered man loved the idea of people spitting their names out, regardless whether if it's for good or not. One thing that I can look up to those not so kind people is, they realized they will never be half as good as anything we'd dream of so why the fuck bother on pleasing shit faces. Never in my mind believe because of that we should all be evil beings.
Purpose of life, is evidently a myth. There'll never be A purpose of life since we are all greedy people. The certainty of that is unworthy of the world's attention but I may not be the only one to regard it as a fact. A pessimist I may be but better than thinking we are all walking on flowered layered glass and inhaling air of sweet scent of lives. Hmm...
" Our singing was not hypocritical for we were singing out our happiness at being alive. Happiness at being born contrary to all the possibilities calculated by men of common sense and in contempt of all the wars invented by makers of the History. Happiness at being born, living and knowing that there is nothing better in this world than the measued words of a woman with red hands seated in a room perfumed with the snowy chill of linen covered in hoar-frost. In the name of what... "
- Words from Confessions of a Lapsed Standard-Bearer
Fish sticks
Missing the time when we were within each other has brought up distinct emotions. Speeds of laughters you drew were one of your beauty. Though, you never believed me and often called me names akin to a lady in the loony bin, I love being with you.
When the sun was blazing, poking happily into my eyes, you stopped and wondered how was I feeling. Words nor grievances formed as you observed me. The thing, littlest thing that you do, stirred up my feelings. Long hard notes you wrote while I was floating in the water. Absurdity and nonsensical phrases. Put a smile on my face.
The times where we wasted our times drawing funny faces, flipping coins, will never be replaced. Your love for childish things made me realize you were with me ever since I had existed.
The terror you faced when we crash the problem gate.
The fear of being teased.
The caricature of your silly works.
Made me happy.
When the sun was blazing, poking happily into my eyes, you stopped and wondered how was I feeling. Words nor grievances formed as you observed me. The thing, littlest thing that you do, stirred up my feelings. Long hard notes you wrote while I was floating in the water. Absurdity and nonsensical phrases. Put a smile on my face.
The times where we wasted our times drawing funny faces, flipping coins, will never be replaced. Your love for childish things made me realize you were with me ever since I had existed.
The terror you faced when we crash the problem gate.
The fear of being teased.
The caricature of your silly works.
Made me happy.
To You, Friend.
One to a hundred.
How much is too much?
Friends.
It is a disease in each and every one of us.
Like Polio.
Except it sounded better.
Enemies.
Now that's something.
Like Fever.
Though, it has better ending.
Whoever reckons having lots of friends is a good thing,
Surely a tosser.
How much is too much?
Friends.
It is a disease in each and every one of us.
Like Polio.
Except it sounded better.
Enemies.
Now that's something.
Like Fever.
Though, it has better ending.
Whoever reckons having lots of friends is a good thing,
Surely a tosser.
For the world to see, How I breathe.
It's been fascinating.
To watch how people around you direct their fears.
I had joined their parade.
Starved myself with hopes.
I was painfully pleading for my guilt to leave me.
When they were struggling to call my name.
As faults were waiting for the final greet.
Stumbling, tearing and moaning.
Have I done enough to be with them?
To watch how people around you direct their fears.
I had joined their parade.
Starved myself with hopes.
I was painfully pleading for my guilt to leave me.
When they were struggling to call my name.
As faults were waiting for the final greet.
Stumbling, tearing and moaning.
Have I done enough to be with them?
I am no feminist.
But sometimes people made me speak like one.
A friend of mine used feminist as a synonym for slags or what most people call, a bitch.
Considering how ridiculous this whole feminism shit has become, I was happy to hear that.
Enough about Emmeline Pankhurst, it is quite obvious there is no one who has an acceptable ideology that could bring changes to the life of the saucers (Cups and saucers, thats what I used when saying male and female). Nevertheless, I have no interest in yapping about feminism as it is full of bull.
What I wish to write about is on sports. Why in the world is sport being divided between gender. Have you ever seen a football match with a mix of gender in a team? Why can't there be one?
This is where those above and sports meet each other. Those so-called feminists forgot about equality in active culture when they were in tears promoting their jokes. All they cared about was money and shits. That's why cups take them lightly. Take all the jokes in the world and you will find not even one that goes like 'That lady kicks like a viking!'. Though I have no knowledge on the amount of pressure vikings put on their foot in mesmerizing others in kicking objects. The point is, all the screaming about equality had silenced a part on being as strong as cups. It is apparent that saucers couldn't give a fuck in potraying themselves as a strong entity. Talk about equality.
I remember growing up, where I was the only one with no object under there which would results me being in pain whenever we had too much fun. I played sports with them, I kicked and shoved as hard as them. But then, reality kicked in and I was forced to enter into the world where wearing comfortable clothes is a sin. Yes, they made you feel like an alien especially when you are covered in scars. A shock ran through me and I knew I was doomed for life. No more praises for falling the 17th time.
The world I had entered has made me become a sissy. I would cry if I get a small cut, and think about the physical effects for the whole day. I worry about when dirts come crawling to me with a huge grin on their muddy faces. All these things... I blame you feminists. Oh now we have the power to be as good as men, lets put skeleton on covers of pointless magazines and kill all the fatties. Yes you idiots, that exactly what you did. Because of you, I worry about my weight. Because of you I use masks to make me look like what you had wanted me to look like. And you people call Hitler a bad man.
OK
Lets pause and laugh for a moment as I had digress from sport to Hitler. When his name comes up, that is the mark I am digressing.
Coming back to sports and people. I wish there would be no female cups or whatever fucks. I wish there would be, even a short amount of saucers, playing with the cups. In football, tennis, cricket and all the sports in the world. Where the name Sophie would come next after Steven. Where a lady gets a red card for diving.
Nonetheless, I want that so badly since I was once told I can't be in their team because I look like a girl. I don't blame the cups. Seeing all the saucers in the world, I understand and accept the tragedy upon my life. I want to change that, so next time, I can run with the balls..., no the ball and score like the cups.
AND
That my feminists friends, is what I call an equality.
A friend of mine used feminist as a synonym for slags or what most people call, a bitch.
Considering how ridiculous this whole feminism shit has become, I was happy to hear that.
Enough about Emmeline Pankhurst, it is quite obvious there is no one who has an acceptable ideology that could bring changes to the life of the saucers (Cups and saucers, thats what I used when saying male and female). Nevertheless, I have no interest in yapping about feminism as it is full of bull.
What I wish to write about is on sports. Why in the world is sport being divided between gender. Have you ever seen a football match with a mix of gender in a team? Why can't there be one?
This is where those above and sports meet each other. Those so-called feminists forgot about equality in active culture when they were in tears promoting their jokes. All they cared about was money and shits. That's why cups take them lightly. Take all the jokes in the world and you will find not even one that goes like 'That lady kicks like a viking!'. Though I have no knowledge on the amount of pressure vikings put on their foot in mesmerizing others in kicking objects. The point is, all the screaming about equality had silenced a part on being as strong as cups. It is apparent that saucers couldn't give a fuck in potraying themselves as a strong entity. Talk about equality.
I remember growing up, where I was the only one with no object under there which would results me being in pain whenever we had too much fun. I played sports with them, I kicked and shoved as hard as them. But then, reality kicked in and I was forced to enter into the world where wearing comfortable clothes is a sin. Yes, they made you feel like an alien especially when you are covered in scars. A shock ran through me and I knew I was doomed for life. No more praises for falling the 17th time.
The world I had entered has made me become a sissy. I would cry if I get a small cut, and think about the physical effects for the whole day. I worry about when dirts come crawling to me with a huge grin on their muddy faces. All these things... I blame you feminists. Oh now we have the power to be as good as men, lets put skeleton on covers of pointless magazines and kill all the fatties. Yes you idiots, that exactly what you did. Because of you, I worry about my weight. Because of you I use masks to make me look like what you had wanted me to look like. And you people call Hitler a bad man.
OK
Lets pause and laugh for a moment as I had digress from sport to Hitler. When his name comes up, that is the mark I am digressing.
Coming back to sports and people. I wish there would be no female cups or whatever fucks. I wish there would be, even a short amount of saucers, playing with the cups. In football, tennis, cricket and all the sports in the world. Where the name Sophie would come next after Steven. Where a lady gets a red card for diving.
Nonetheless, I want that so badly since I was once told I can't be in their team because I look like a girl. I don't blame the cups. Seeing all the saucers in the world, I understand and accept the tragedy upon my life. I want to change that, so next time, I can run with the balls..., no the ball and score like the cups.
AND
That my feminists friends, is what I call an equality.
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