I took these and I'm thinking I'm pretty good.

It takes alot to make him angry, but very little to make him pretend.




I would like to say it again: I think I'm pretty good.




I wish I could come up with something witty about the phone and coke but.. I fail.





My attempt at nonchalance. Or disregard. With a camera.

You better shake up, cause I need a man.

And my heart is set on you.

You better shape up, you better understand.

To my heart I must be true.

-Grease

I Can't Tell You.

August 16 2009.
That was the last time I wrote in here.
My life has been on that proverbial rollercoaster ride we often use to describe that utter chaos we go through.
Chaos.
It's the hidden turmoil that I've, at times, managed to hide underneath.

To recall every single moment of my life since then would be too much of a painful recollection to handle.
No, wait, not painful.
Intense.

So many things have happened.
Both good and bad. And everything else in between.

22nd October 2009.
That was a day to remember.

I would love to say that I am more empowered and older from it all.
But it's also made me weak, and more vulnerable.

Still, for everything that's happened,
thank you.

It gets darker everytime.

Sometimes it gets a little darker,
When you walk home by yourself,
with nothing but the cold in your hands,
And the gravel trailing your feet.

Sometimes it gets just a bit darker,
Though your home is beyond black
and you feel that empty stolen piece
Of you filling quickly with despair.

Sometimes it gets a little too colder,
As you rub your hands in frustration and
wrap your arms around body in vain attempt,
When the chill of falling begins to set.

Sometimes it gets a bit harder,
To keep returning to a vessel empty of
its life, its love, its truth, and courage,
In facing ghosts that blind and taunt.

Sometimes it feels easier to just lie. Down,
To yourself, to your light, to your vain deity,
Give in, unto, fear hatred anger and complete deceit,
Mirror image growing colder, fainter, darker.

Sometimes the shadows of a room grow with pain,
Deep, dark, desolate decadence.
That bind, hurt, remember and refuse,
Everytime it gets even a little bit darker.

Tell the boy

that I love him.
















and that nothing else matters.

Munchausen (Proxy)

Got nothing to prove, I'm not your whore
You're gonna lose, cause I got more
Not sure you can endure
I'm not your little, I'm not your little, I'm not your little
Whore...

Whore whore whore...
Not your late night booty call
Whore no more...
Don't call me past eleven pm, it won't happen again

Like a scab that won't heal, just another sore
Lost face in the crowd such a lonely bore

Don't call me past eleven pm, it won't happen again
Happened once, it happened twice it happened three times, maybe four times, maybe five times, maybe, maybe it happened six times,
but it won't happen seven times
No no no no no no...

Whore whore whore
Not your late night booty call
Whore no more
Don't call me past eleven pm, it won't happen again


You could call me at 10.59 but don't call me at 11 cause that's my rule now.

How I turned T-Rex into T-Rachel

Ice Age 3 (3D) was surprisingly not a flop.
I found Ice Age 1 hilarious, Ice Age 2, equally funny.
But I had suspected the third part to have run out of its charm.

However, the way I clung to my seat laughing my ass off while trying to keep the 3D visors on my face is.. something much needed.

And 3 movies done, I'm still head over heels in love with Diego.
Rawr.

If you need a good laugh, watch it.

Void

Every night, I find myself writing letters to no one.
Nothing.
Just a void of tangled emotions, confusion.

Where the only reply you receive is the deep set silence of being forsaken.

To be truly alone.
Completely alone.

I wish I was strong enough for that,
because, believe it or not,
I really, truly want that.