I like how you enjoy watching me asleep
As if dreaming of silence in the skies
and to pretend my sealed lips
could never release itself for words
To put me where you want me to be
would be under your fizzled dreams
With shattered mirrors around your skin
ripple on the thought of me.
You endow me for your eyes
Gazing and feeding every half tears
I could afflict my senses
Though I could never stop you from filling me
Lovely Dapper Uncle
As my mother and I watch the old CD's we have on my uncle, who is her good friend, I couldn't help myself from feeling nostalgic and blue. We've miss him to the point where we would recall the things he does when we're together.
For instance;
- The constant 'Look!' moments he does just to show and explain the types of plane flying over the sky at the moment.
- The look he gives whenever he's anticipating your unfinished food.
- The weekend spend outside the plane runways.
- Random birds' names being uttered and explained.
- Awesome unity between us two and my mother on, practically anything.
- Letters, magazines and cards as an apology for missing special days.
and the endless moments we'd collect for us to smile upon.
It's terrible the fact that I'm making it sounds like he's dead when he's only trapped in a marriage to a horrible woman.
I just hope we could be rolling around again.
The same way I wish I could be with the thousand you's in my life.
For instance;
- The constant 'Look!' moments he does just to show and explain the types of plane flying over the sky at the moment.
- The look he gives whenever he's anticipating your unfinished food.
- The weekend spend outside the plane runways.
- Random birds' names being uttered and explained.
- Awesome unity between us two and my mother on, practically anything.
- Letters, magazines and cards as an apology for missing special days.
and the endless moments we'd collect for us to smile upon.
It's terrible the fact that I'm making it sounds like he's dead when he's only trapped in a marriage to a horrible woman.
I just hope we could be rolling around again.
The same way I wish I could be with the thousand you's in my life.
Proper Words
Lurking on other clubs boards have been fun. Especially when I get to cement my opinion that (most) United fans are terribly rude. It's almost like the moment they pledge to support United, they immediately throw their manners out of the window.
I know we haven't really won much but at least we would never go around claiming our keeper is a world class keeper, eventhough Reina is one of the few. Van De Saar is, statistically a shit one. Hence, it's high time United fans keep their mouth shut as nothing good ever comes out from there.
As much as I hate United, I do admit they're a solid team and is a fantastic rival. It would be good if they would acknowledge the same, seeing how that Scummy Scot keeps on bashing us and how they would win more EPL's than us. If you don't give a fuck, you'd say less.
I know we haven't really won much but at least we would never go around claiming our keeper is a world class keeper, eventhough Reina is one of the few. Van De Saar is, statistically a shit one. Hence, it's high time United fans keep their mouth shut as nothing good ever comes out from there.
As much as I hate United, I do admit they're a solid team and is a fantastic rival. It would be good if they would acknowledge the same, seeing how that Scummy Scot keeps on bashing us and how they would win more EPL's than us. If you don't give a fuck, you'd say less.
Of course I can Bagpipe
Cause' my Uncle is a Scot...
I love the Richmond boys because of this. I can say anything and they'll accept the argument. I have no Scots blood at all so it's a flat out shit words.
Which made me miss them even more.
The Uncle probably has no longer stays in Richmond, the boys would relocate for Uni, Hanna keeps on moving, and I have forgotten how they smell.
Peeps, my mother will be in London in few weeks so I'll pass my sweaty shirt so you can smell the grown me.
I must collect myself and push for the end of longing.
I love the Richmond boys because of this. I can say anything and they'll accept the argument. I have no Scots blood at all so it's a flat out shit words.
Which made me miss them even more.
The Uncle probably has no longer stays in Richmond, the boys would relocate for Uni, Hanna keeps on moving, and I have forgotten how they smell.
Peeps, my mother will be in London in few weeks so I'll pass my sweaty shirt so you can smell the grown me.
I must collect myself and push for the end of longing.
B
Far beyond belief I'd scour
to fold your fingers in.
Man's loyalties I'd keep.
for them to run free.
Though sunshine,
I'm always dreaming.
of foreseen pictures and Roman speech.
But for the longing skies.
Must I ever forgive
the grief inside of me.
Must I ever forget
the one in me.
I'd dream an endless dream.
and I'll keep it in me.
to fold your fingers in.
Man's loyalties I'd keep.
for them to run free.
Though sunshine,
I'm always dreaming.
of foreseen pictures and Roman speech.
But for the longing skies.
Must I ever forgive
the grief inside of me.
Must I ever forget
the one in me.
I'd dream an endless dream.
and I'll keep it in me.
Torres
People are clogging up football forums since the news comes about.
Truth is, I would rather see a player leaves a club then playing with folded arse. It would be a huge blow if he does jump to Chelsea, considering the whole 'moral' story he made when he just joined Liverpool.
I couldn't see myself going mental on this as we have all accepted the fact that football no longer centres upon the sport itself. Money lingers all over and it does catches the players minds.
This news only brings about my disappointment towards him as a person due to the statement he made, not because he's thinking of going to a shit club. Meh, I can see him shitting on himself if he ever follows his ego, just like Owen, Alonso, etc.
Hence, he should listen to this four years old, or just recall his former self, or have the fans beat him up to get him to his senses.
Truth is, I would rather see a player leaves a club then playing with folded arse. It would be a huge blow if he does jump to Chelsea, considering the whole 'moral' story he made when he just joined Liverpool.
I couldn't see myself going mental on this as we have all accepted the fact that football no longer centres upon the sport itself. Money lingers all over and it does catches the players minds.
This news only brings about my disappointment towards him as a person due to the statement he made, not because he's thinking of going to a shit club. Meh, I can see him shitting on himself if he ever follows his ego, just like Owen, Alonso, etc.
Hence, he should listen to this four years old, or just recall his former self, or have the fans beat him up to get him to his senses.
A
I guess you weren't as ghostly as I thought you'd be.
Because I haven't seen your eyes wandering around.
Or perhaps it was just the mist.
Clogging my intercepting mind.
I guess you weren't as close as you seem to be.
For minutes and years,
Your breaths were calculating its' speed.
Mocking my sanity.
Maybe I was deceived by the linen skies.
To believe everything inside my mind.
Because I haven't seen your eyes wandering around.
Or perhaps it was just the mist.
Clogging my intercepting mind.
I guess you weren't as close as you seem to be.
For minutes and years,
Your breaths were calculating its' speed.
Mocking my sanity.
Maybe I was deceived by the linen skies.
To believe everything inside my mind.
Siddhartha
" Dreams and restless thoughts came flowing to him from the river, from the twinkling stars at night, from the sun's melting rays...... He had begun to fell that the love of his father and mother, and also the love of his friend, would not always make him happy, give him pease, satisfy and suffice him........ the vessel was not full, his intellect was not satisfied, his soul was not at peace, his heart was not still. "
: Siddhartha
After much infusion of my thoughts and eyes on Siddhatha, I realized how it is pertinent and relevant to our lives. Maybe to a fraction of humanity.
People often seed the idea in us, that love is the only thing that matter. For worse, for poorer, in sickness, so long love stands by us, nothing could ingest our beings. It is undeniably the most ludicrous idea as the minute we are on our feet, there is a passage illuminating our project in life. Our own ideology and our mission.
Some lives to be rich while others live to go mental. No one really live just to have love.
Love has no correlation to the constant thirst that pulls us away from the path. Love plays no part in the sacrificial bath. Love could never be the reason we keep on chasing after the unknown.
Perhaps, love is everything, and I am just in denial as I am the rat in the trench.
: Siddhartha
After much infusion of my thoughts and eyes on Siddhatha, I realized how it is pertinent and relevant to our lives. Maybe to a fraction of humanity.
People often seed the idea in us, that love is the only thing that matter. For worse, for poorer, in sickness, so long love stands by us, nothing could ingest our beings. It is undeniably the most ludicrous idea as the minute we are on our feet, there is a passage illuminating our project in life. Our own ideology and our mission.
Some lives to be rich while others live to go mental. No one really live just to have love.
Love has no correlation to the constant thirst that pulls us away from the path. Love plays no part in the sacrificial bath. Love could never be the reason we keep on chasing after the unknown.
Perhaps, love is everything, and I am just in denial as I am the rat in the trench.
1111
Knowing you was a chant of desire. To fall for your plastic charm. And calculated eloquence. Severe excavation on the lines. As you painted me a false pretense. To swallow your very tounge.
I had walked in your shelves. Before I could be you. I must free my soul. My one true joy. The real solid rope holding me.
I must be in your transient form. For the crowd of hope.
Deceptions and mind activation.
Should I ever see your reflection. I shall curse and bury it.
You were the air chasing me away. You were the praise of mass pretenders. You were the love for every fortune.
But you were never real. And never could be.
I had walked in your shelves. Before I could be you. I must free my soul. My one true joy. The real solid rope holding me.
I must be in your transient form. For the crowd of hope.
Deceptions and mind activation.
Should I ever see your reflection. I shall curse and bury it.
You were the air chasing me away. You were the praise of mass pretenders. You were the love for every fortune.
But you were never real. And never could be.
Blue Turbulence
San Jose - San Fran - Mountain View/Gilroy - Napa - Death Valley - Vegas
There were expulsion of joy during the first few days in California. No familiar faces around to captivate my attention.
Though graduation of a friend was the moment of awe. It inspired me when a fellow course mate gave a speech on how those Ivy League knobs were belittling those of State, and somehow ended up with no offers for their service.
Money does get you somewhere, but it never takes you any further.
Christmas was a bitter sweet time as Jenny the Dog was on the brink of losing its' life.
However, with families and terrific golden ladies around, eyes clouded by raining skies did not seem to take the smile of everyone's faces. Only occasionally, when Jenny started to mope around.
We then drove to Death Valley, home to no living creatures, or as we were told there is none. We passed through the garlic farm. It did not bothered me as much as it did to the others. The stench was overpowered by the stunning wave line along the way. Hence, the grueling nine hours to the Valley. Fantastic backdrop to a place where few friendly and well mannered community live. The night sky was drenched in white sparkling spots. Leaving you with imagination to run wild. I could not imagine the serenity of the mind by living there.
Golden Canyon, Natural Bridge, Badwater and few hiking spots that we managed to reach. We could have wipe the whole area if Vegas was not calling.
I must say, it does look better on the telly, considering how awful the Downtown was. Perhaps we were there at the wrong time, nonetheless, it could never pull me back again. We stayed in The Venetian where monies were spent on Blackjack machine. No luck in attending a big shopping spree. We did warm ourselves up in few shows, one being in Harrah's (or another place) where there was two kid on piano covering old songs with the patrons giving them money to do shit myself and a friend could not grasp. It was entertaining though, and by kid I mean kids in their 20s.
It is a shame I could not stay any longer. I do not wish to live in America, since they do not have any Tesco or M&S. I live by Tesco and no country shall cast a spell on me. Ten years from now, I might live in America and have my friends cover me with shame for my words. Might, there is the possibility since life is that cruel to our words. Or the other way around.
I still love New York better than California, with exception on the Camden-esque street of Haight Ashbury. It triumphs over Camden due to the original excitement and people. Dreadlocks mothers with adorable child and fitties with deck in hand. I was in heaven for a brief period, until the pot came out knocking.
I shall save up some money so I could stay with the aunt every holiday break so I could troll around with Toby and sour Eby.
Till then, many books for me to pretend reading.
We were fated to pretend.
Hungry Ties
I've seen The Van, The Wynn and The Garden, now I have to see the MGMT boy who carries such last name. Google tells me that, since I have no idea about whoever names.
There are several occasions that propel me into the excitement of seeing the band. Needless to say, my head could no longer ponder upon the money that would be spend on the lights and sounds.
A request for a better year is a part of my routine as an idiot. Though if it is possible for me see the MGMT boy and call him a dolphin, then nothing could... well it is impossible to not have shitty days.
I like how I write MGMT in capitals. Makes me feel like a crazy obsessive fan.
MM
Broken shadow lingers. With soft language romancing the fear. Gripping on the sweat. Sealing every scent. My broken shadow hinges.
Forever in debt to your priceless advice
The adoring voice, the wit, the case of mental confusion, the talent. I for one don't believe there could be a better Kurt.
A look into his eyes will show you how much life you don't have, since you keep on wishing he wasn't dead. Though it's a good share of time to waste on him.
A friend of mine harvest the dream of buying his house. With thoughts that Kurt would haunt him and eventually pass some of his magnetic charm and talent to my friend. More like passing his relentless nightmare, the Hole girl.
We all enjoy this jarring concept of fulfilling our lives.
Sweet Lies
Sugar glazed lies are perfect gateway from complain or mopey people.
I use it all the time.
Like today, when I was cooking, I told my mother the chicken will not be fried. Butter chicken was made and I could not tell her since she never fancies butter and by telling her would mean I have to deal with her words on how terrible butter on food is. Besides, my definition of butter chicken is simple slices of chicken grilled on a pan of butter pool.
Thanks to the first man to lie, she loved the chicken, without any rant to torch my ears.
So since Christmas is approaching, lets just lie to little kids so we get more time for online games than baby-ing them.
I use it all the time.
Like today, when I was cooking, I told my mother the chicken will not be fried. Butter chicken was made and I could not tell her since she never fancies butter and by telling her would mean I have to deal with her words on how terrible butter on food is. Besides, my definition of butter chicken is simple slices of chicken grilled on a pan of butter pool.
Thanks to the first man to lie, she loved the chicken, without any rant to torch my ears.
So since Christmas is approaching, lets just lie to little kids so we get more time for online games than baby-ing them.
Social Depression
It is an ultimate depression when one could not even think on delivering the inner self to the world without any aid from the society.
We mumbles sympathy for the less fortunate. We forge impression based on faded views. We celebrate victories build from stolen pieces. We pat ourselves on the back because we believe we have made it.
A careful evaluation on our own statements would produce sad truths, which are, we put ourselves together by begging for social nods and glossy remarks. I know most people would deny any intrusion from the society and believed there is no dependency on any ideas and thoughts outside of them.
At least that is what I used to hold on to as well.
Nevertheless, Anthropological (self) study shows me the brighter lights. I read a journal and it forces a crude revelation that for long, I have refuse to see. Most of my life I have been telling myself I am not a part of any social hurrah and I stand on my own. However, after the read up, I realized that is a lie that is forced in me.
The journal centers upon a teenage female who is a native in an African Tribe. Basically when she is sent to the city center as a 'gift' from those who apparently care about her deprivation, her mind plague by the toxic scenes of the society. She exhumes disgust and shock upon learning how those who have lay pitiful frown on her, are living. Needless to say, the table is facing the other way around and she is the one who is now showing shame that there are poeple who live under such condition.
The journal is as a point that we are the one who could use some sympathy because we are the one clinging on some sort of false support. We are worried that without our clothes and knowledges, the world will unhinge us.
Hence, the 'What kind of style' or 'Which personality do you have' quizzes are the one we focus on in identifying ourselves. Terms in fashion and celebrated writers/personas we hold on to. Just to prove to ourselves and others that we are not deprived.
Of what?
We are in deep deprivation.
Inability to construct an individual, developing own thoughts, walking on sticks ,and gripping on stance and beliefs. Sheer clues.
The modern life is in the lowest point because there is not one individual who would turn away from the madness.
Ask yourself, would you settle as the one without knowledge (the ones you value most), without visible success and values ,and most important, wihout any identity.
It is imminent that no one would succumb to such truth, or most would not. I know I have seen how ignorant-careless I am by leaning on the poisons. Well, I could never reach the height the African Girl has, but at least I know I no longer exhibit an item out of the society.
People rarely see me as a person and so be it. They have all the books and awesome materials, and I have the truth.
We mumbles sympathy for the less fortunate. We forge impression based on faded views. We celebrate victories build from stolen pieces. We pat ourselves on the back because we believe we have made it.
A careful evaluation on our own statements would produce sad truths, which are, we put ourselves together by begging for social nods and glossy remarks. I know most people would deny any intrusion from the society and believed there is no dependency on any ideas and thoughts outside of them.
At least that is what I used to hold on to as well.
Nevertheless, Anthropological (self) study shows me the brighter lights. I read a journal and it forces a crude revelation that for long, I have refuse to see. Most of my life I have been telling myself I am not a part of any social hurrah and I stand on my own. However, after the read up, I realized that is a lie that is forced in me.
The journal centers upon a teenage female who is a native in an African Tribe. Basically when she is sent to the city center as a 'gift' from those who apparently care about her deprivation, her mind plague by the toxic scenes of the society. She exhumes disgust and shock upon learning how those who have lay pitiful frown on her, are living. Needless to say, the table is facing the other way around and she is the one who is now showing shame that there are poeple who live under such condition.
The journal is as a point that we are the one who could use some sympathy because we are the one clinging on some sort of false support. We are worried that without our clothes and knowledges, the world will unhinge us.
Hence, the 'What kind of style' or 'Which personality do you have' quizzes are the one we focus on in identifying ourselves. Terms in fashion and celebrated writers/personas we hold on to. Just to prove to ourselves and others that we are not deprived.
Of what?
We are in deep deprivation.
Inability to construct an individual, developing own thoughts, walking on sticks ,and gripping on stance and beliefs. Sheer clues.
The modern life is in the lowest point because there is not one individual who would turn away from the madness.
Ask yourself, would you settle as the one without knowledge (the ones you value most), without visible success and values ,and most important, wihout any identity.
It is imminent that no one would succumb to such truth, or most would not. I know I have seen how ignorant-careless I am by leaning on the poisons. Well, I could never reach the height the African Girl has, but at least I know I no longer exhibit an item out of the society.
People rarely see me as a person and so be it. They have all the books and awesome materials, and I have the truth.
Illuminated Hidden Clocks
I have been experincing with Insomnia for as long as I could remember. The progressive nature of such disorder is putting me in a sub-conscious nightmare. It is known to self that it is paired with my Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS) which is cause by iron deficiency.
Several people have associated my problem with multiple issues. First, the TA my mom went through during the first few months of the carriage. It is palpable a disrupt in preliminary growth would results in this kind of things. The next few are those that irritate you as they are literal indications of human emotions, and thus, making me dispose the obligation to listen to their crap. The 'issue' that they believe to be the gun is the fact that I could never stop thinking.
Mad.
My head or mind or what ever it is you subject it to be, is a constant moving-functioning part of my body. It is always churning things, regardless of the value or substance. That is why I am highly imaginative and my IQ is above average. If I ever stop thinking, I will be a mad simpleton. Yes, a simpleton. It is not that I think of silly matters like politics, I just like to think or imagine things others too scared of, because they believe it to be stupid matters or they think that might caused them to be stupid.
My mother always complains that I ask to many irrelevant questions. My apologies to people who have to confront my mind, but you just have to direct your complains to God.
I am not trying to be a Genius or anything close to it, I just enjoy these manic thoughts of mine.
Though, I do not believe in Geniuses or highly inteliigent beings, because those are for fickle minded people who preach on infusion of others' thought in the birth of that others. I believe in curiosity and unanswered question. As that is an obvious connection to Einstein.
Guess this problem of mine is a blessing in disguise, but I do remember, I need a medical examination on self as an accident has affect my bodily functions. To hell the man who ran me over.
Several people have associated my problem with multiple issues. First, the TA my mom went through during the first few months of the carriage. It is palpable a disrupt in preliminary growth would results in this kind of things. The next few are those that irritate you as they are literal indications of human emotions, and thus, making me dispose the obligation to listen to their crap. The 'issue' that they believe to be the gun is the fact that I could never stop thinking.
Mad.
My head or mind or what ever it is you subject it to be, is a constant moving-functioning part of my body. It is always churning things, regardless of the value or substance. That is why I am highly imaginative and my IQ is above average. If I ever stop thinking, I will be a mad simpleton. Yes, a simpleton. It is not that I think of silly matters like politics, I just like to think or imagine things others too scared of, because they believe it to be stupid matters or they think that might caused them to be stupid.
My mother always complains that I ask to many irrelevant questions. My apologies to people who have to confront my mind, but you just have to direct your complains to God.
I am not trying to be a Genius or anything close to it, I just enjoy these manic thoughts of mine.
Though, I do not believe in Geniuses or highly inteliigent beings, because those are for fickle minded people who preach on infusion of others' thought in the birth of that others. I believe in curiosity and unanswered question. As that is an obvious connection to Einstein.
Guess this problem of mine is a blessing in disguise, but I do remember, I need a medical examination on self as an accident has affect my bodily functions. To hell the man who ran me over.
Hard Spun
The blue speaks of the distance.
As the sea softens the edges.
And the sky freezes every motion.
As the sea softens the edges.
And the sky freezes every motion.
Errors
I miss watching a solid squad playing on the pitch. With all the deep ends and dramas surrounding the club, it is quite possible to lose interest. Not in the club, but in the sport as a whole.
Hodgson is a definite meh. When I heard he will be taking over, I wasn't in full confidence. And here we are, struggling for a full form and a strong 90 minutes.
Rumours of Torres and Reina leaving, young players (Pacheco, etc) following suit, are not the best indication of a take over. Hodgson is a mental fuck and he should have never step in. Listen to his post-match remarks and it'll hit you right off.
If we lose any of the promising players, surely he'll be burned. Mind the northern people.
Though this heart thumping actions are quite healthy. Since we could get all the blood flowing right, thanks to Hodgson stupidity.
Otto Piehl
Christmas came early for me.
I found a vendor selling envelopes of others who had lived in the period of pre and post WW (also, stamps, letters that were never received, postcard, etc.). It's absolutely fantastic since it carries millions of history in its own manner. There were tons of different entities but I was drawn to buy some of Herr Piehl's envelopes. There were no letters in it, but who would read others' letters anyway. I reckon he had lived during Hitler's' era as there were many of which with Hitler's' face on the stamps. I only bought letters on the 1963-1968 as my eyes could not scour for more.
I was so excited about the prospect of digging into the man's history. The idea of propelling myself towards the genealogy of Piehl is making me sick, as it is what I have always wanted. Though it is severely difficult because there are definitely more than two of them, hence a thorough examination is vital.
However, since I know a partial of Germany's history, with all the faces on the envelope, I could successfully complete my self-learning.
The lady was too nice and she gave me two of the old Czechoslovakia's stamps, of 1949-1950 when they were Ceskoslovensko.
And the journey of emptying my pocket begins, thanks to the wonderful vendor. I am so happy I could eat myself.
Once an extensive collection has been made, I will definitely insures my album. There are few official envelopes from the offices (one with Nazi's seal and the Queen's). They will soon be mine.
I found a vendor selling envelopes of others who had lived in the period of pre and post WW (also, stamps, letters that were never received, postcard, etc.). It's absolutely fantastic since it carries millions of history in its own manner. There were tons of different entities but I was drawn to buy some of Herr Piehl's envelopes. There were no letters in it, but who would read others' letters anyway. I reckon he had lived during Hitler's' era as there were many of which with Hitler's' face on the stamps. I only bought letters on the 1963-1968 as my eyes could not scour for more.
I was so excited about the prospect of digging into the man's history. The idea of propelling myself towards the genealogy of Piehl is making me sick, as it is what I have always wanted. Though it is severely difficult because there are definitely more than two of them, hence a thorough examination is vital.
However, since I know a partial of Germany's history, with all the faces on the envelope, I could successfully complete my self-learning.
The lady was too nice and she gave me two of the old Czechoslovakia's stamps, of 1949-1950 when they were Ceskoslovensko.
And the journey of emptying my pocket begins, thanks to the wonderful vendor. I am so happy I could eat myself.
Once an extensive collection has been made, I will definitely insures my album. There are few official envelopes from the offices (one with Nazi's seal and the Queen's). They will soon be mine.
In Station
A bundle of agony wrapping your head to pull you in. That calls for a silent show on your feelings. I understand failure is your next door neighbour in getting to, well somewhere. Though I am in deep tears trying to figure out ways to handle it when it comes to my studies.
Without considering any unfortunate cloud to guide me, I found pre-remedies for the 10th of December. In the form of Miss Moss and TeenAngster
These two have an array of interesting pictures and stuffs. Good for you two.
Things to look forward to, besides the hideous monster of the 10th, would be fantastic pictures in our imagination.
1.
Kitties and shakes. Lights that might show love.
2.
An exception to all acceptance.
Yes God, we are all struggling.
Without considering any unfortunate cloud to guide me, I found pre-remedies for the 10th of December. In the form of Miss Moss and TeenAngster
These two have an array of interesting pictures and stuffs. Good for you two.
Things to look forward to, besides the hideous monster of the 10th, would be fantastic pictures in our imagination.
1.
Kitties and shakes. Lights that might show love.
2.
An exception to all acceptance.
Yes God, we are all struggling.
Pierrot Strings
I remember the first time listening to RID and when I know they have a connection with Noel Fielding, I got excited. Because Mr. Fielding is just plain insane.
The only I dislike about RID is that they appear to be trying very hard to be different or prove to people they are. It is obvious they are not the first to be in such music or appearance, so when they had 'Don't Copy Me', I realized the grip in reality is too painful for me to hold on to.
People who try to be cool should really calibrate their efforts thoroughly. At least I don't buy their efforts and plays.
Despair In Sun
Summon your eyes for me. The mirror of your crumbled dreams. The wound slithering soil. Reach for me. To see the figures of love. Water me with your senses. To foresee your breath. Trapping bits of your inside. Lost deep under the skin. Where lies and promises creep into the threading waves. Following your eyes and lips.
............................
Everyone and every thing (even soups) is in it with Tumblr. I find it rather dispensable after spending some time with it. Maybe it's my lack of enthusiasm in matters. Or maybe I find to many funny people using it.
Then again, it applies to the whole section of internet services. I should redeem myself by straying away from this internet royalties. I know part of my friends, who have eject self from internet would be happy. None of them with facebook or any other social networking services. They have only emails and search engine as those are vital in applying their beings to progress.
Now I understand, how the pre-modern limbs find the sun.
------ Bobbi, I heard a man singing 'Soldier of Fortune' and I swear I could hear the echoes of yours trailing the lyrics. Good thing you have a terrific voice.
............................
Everyone and every thing (even soups) is in it with Tumblr. I find it rather dispensable after spending some time with it. Maybe it's my lack of enthusiasm in matters. Or maybe I find to many funny people using it.
Then again, it applies to the whole section of internet services. I should redeem myself by straying away from this internet royalties. I know part of my friends, who have eject self from internet would be happy. None of them with facebook or any other social networking services. They have only emails and search engine as those are vital in applying their beings to progress.
Now I understand, how the pre-modern limbs find the sun.
------ Bobbi, I heard a man singing 'Soldier of Fortune' and I swear I could hear the echoes of yours trailing the lyrics. Good thing you have a terrific voice.
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