I have alot to blog about today..

I will go in order.
hotsexandpestcontrol:
You want narrative?

I wanted to post this yesterday night, but I was caught using the computer last night at 2 and the internet was cut of *beep -somehow. [there is this magical finger whose owner you can't scream verbally at and and whose will is sadly your command. That is, unless you want to live in a homemade hell hole.]

So here it is.
My blog isn't a freaking diary of my life. You can't just read my blog, and know just who I am, what I am. You wanna know that? You be my friend. Because then..I could trust you. Trust...


I choose not to define my life in sentences. What I post is for myself. And my do I write that way? Because when I read them again, I remember exactly what I was thinking and feeling. And any random person out there, won't know exactly what I'm thinking.



I don't like people reading me like a book. Reading my life like a book. Life's so much more complicated and interesting, no? I could write normally, yes.. But whenever I decide to post, I fine its because I feel very strongly about something, and just cant get it out. Writing with pen and paper can't quite get as fast with my thoughts. Typing is just so much..faster.

And on a blog like this, theres only so much privacy I cant get. I so will not narrate these personal bits of my life to you out there. Like I said before, you wanna know, you have to be my friend. And a very close one at that. I like to keep my thoughts to myself.
The verses are a nice way to keep them to myself.

And in case you are wondering, I don't ponder for a long time before I write the verses. They just flow. Especially when im emotional. And I keep them how they came out. So when I read back..I remember what I was thinking, and how I felt.

Back to the part where pen and paper and hand is too slow.. I think poems are pieces of art. One can express so much in a poem, and one can choose to let the reader know what the hell is on her mind. or not. They can capture so much in so little, and to excruciating detail. Thats also why, if i narrate, it won't be as effective in keeping a memory. Yup, they are bits of important memory.

Hmm..I find myself trying to explain a complex part of my mind. It leads me to the subject of The Mood. There are spaces of time..when I feel particularly caught up in poignant memories.. or past regrets, or present ragdoll sadness. And then I could sit and stone for what feel like eternity in a moment. I believe everyone has these moments to themselves, what they think is eachs' own personal buisness, and its extremely private. And these are the times, after those torrents of emotion, I reflect, and then I think, I mature. So these bits of raw emotion, they are important. So I capture them in ways that they mean nothing to others and something only to me. While you may read between the lines and guage my rough emotions, you won't know what I am thinking.

Just recently, I've realised just how close we can be, and how much I really do love you. But there's much I do not know about you, as you do not know about me. People aren't that easy to read, and everytime you think you know just how they think and what they are, everytime you know a bit more about them, you findout something you never expected from them, and find out really just how much you don't know them.

The world and its inhabitants and have grown wary of each other because of all the hate and deception and lies around them. Thats why I am not comfortable with spilling my soul out here. Something robbed all of us of bits of innocence we had when we were younger. Truely the more you know, the more you do not know, and the more you doubt. The more you venture into the the ugly world out here, the more you know you do not know about that world.

Thats how the world is a nice little hell hole (in which you are inevitably in a hell hole within a hell hole) with nice little bombs from all over the different parts. And thats also how somehow (un)welcome bombs always flood your particular (hell)hole.

We are growing up, and we are learning - just how to safe ourselves from said hellhole and its presents of bombs.

I long for a life without politic bombs and the uglyness of human nature. Because I know I am also a slave to that very nature. But it is inevitable.

Those memories..I will admit are when i succumb to the evilness of human nature, mould a nice hell bomb of my own, throw and aim it. Those periods of reflection after that? I wonder why I made the world a bit.. more unpleasant. I wonder if there are invisible bombs dropped upon my head, so like the one I have just launched - silent deadly prejudice.

The world is an unhappy place when you aren't high and you look at it with the knowledge that there is evil and you are stuck in that vicious cycle.

I am not innocent. Perhaps not as innocent as you think.
But then what anyway, is innocense? Is it something so rare then when you have it, you cant use it for good? Really, if you are a baby what could you do? Raising a child of innocence is raising one of ignorance, giving the circumstances of the world. And we said slavery and forced marriages of the past was wrong. Now society is more subtle and still as deadly.

Jeanne, there are so many weird people in the world, and so many unfanthomable, unpredictable things. Thats just the way things are. We can keep as much as we can pure. We have both locked a bit up in the hopes and mysteries of the sky. And in love.

As much as there is hate, there is love.
Love can heal hate.

the proof will be...

naruto can heal sasuke

I have alot to blog about today..

I will go in order.
hotsexandpestcontrol:
You want narrative?

I wanted to post this yesterday night, but I was caught using the computer last night at 2 and the internet was cut of *beep -somehow. [there is this magical finger whose owner you can't scream verbally at and and whose will is sadly your command. That is, unless you want to live in a homemade hell hole.]

So here it is.
My blog isn't a freaking diary of my life. You can't just read my blog, and know just who I am, what I am. You wanna know that? You be my friend. Because then..I could trust you. Trust...


I choose not to define my life in sentences. What I post is for myself. And my do I write that way? Because when I read them again, I remember exactly what I was thinking and feeling. And any random person out there, won't know exactly what I'm thinking.



I don't like people reading me like a book. Reading my life like a book. Life's so much more complicated and interesting, no? I could write normally, yes.. But whenever I decide to post, I fine its because I feel very strongly about something, and just cant get it out. Writing with pen and paper can't quite get as fast with my thoughts. Typing is just so much..faster.

And on a blog like this, theres only so much privacy I cant get. I so will not narrate these personal bits of my life to you out there. Like I said before, you wanna know, you have to be my friend. And a very close one at that. I like to keep my thoughts to myself.
The verses are a nice way to keep them to myself.

And in case you are wondering, I don't ponder for a long time before I write the verses. They just flow. Especially when im emotional. And I keep them how they came out. So when I read back..I remember what I was thinking, and how I felt.

Back to the part where pen and paper and hand is too slow.. I think poems are pieces of art. One can express so much in a poem, and one can choose to let the reader know what the hell is on her mind. or not. They can capture so much in so little, and to excruciating detail. Thats also why, if i narrate, it won't be as effective in keeping a memory. Yup, they are bits of important memory.

Hmm..I find myself trying to explain a complex part of my mind. It leads me to the subject of The Mood. There are spaces of time..when I feel particularly caught up in poignant memories.. or past regrets, or present ragdoll sadness. And then I could sit and stone for what feel like eternity in a moment. I believe everyone has these moments to themselves, what they think is eachs' own personal buisness, and its extremely private. And these are the times, after those torrents of emotion, I reflect, and then I think, I mature. So these bits of raw emotion, they are important. So I capture them in ways that they mean nothing to others and something only to me. While you may read between the lines and guage my rough emotions, you won't know what I am thinking.

Just recently, I've realised just how close we can be, and how much I really do love you. But there's much I do not know about you, as you do not know about me. People aren't that easy to read, and everytime you think you know just how they think and what they are, everytime you know a bit more about them, you findout something you never expected from them, and find out really just how much you don't know them.

The world and its inhabitants and have grown wary of each other because of all the hate and deception and lies around them. Thats why I am not comfortable with spilling my soul out here. Something robbed all of us of bits of innocence we had when we were younger. Truely the more you know, the more you do not know, and the more you doubt. The more you venture into the the ugly world out here, the more you know you do not know about that world.

Thats how the world is a nice little hell hole (in which you are inevitably in a hell hole within a hell hole) with nice little bombs from all over the different parts. And thats also how somehow (un)welcome bombs always flood your particular (hell)hole.

We are growing up, and we are learning - just how to safe ourselves from said hellhole and its presents of bombs.

I long for a life without politic bombs and the uglyness of human nature. Because I know I am also a slave to that very nature. But it is inevitable.

Those memories..I will admit are when i succumb to the evilness of human nature, mould a nice hell bomb of my own, throw and aim it. Those periods of reflection after that? I wonder why I made the world a bit.. more unpleasant. I wonder if there are invisible bombs dropped upon my head, so like the one I have just launched - silent deadly prejudice.

The world is an unhappy place when you aren't high and you look at it with the knowledge that there is evil and you are stuck in that vicious cycle.

I am not innocent. Perhaps not as innocent as you think.
But then what anyway, is innocense? Is it something so rare then when you have it, you cant use it for good? Really, if you are a baby what could you do? Raising a child of innocence is raising one of ignorance, giving the circumstances of the world. And we said slavery and forced marriages of the past was wrong. Now society is more subtle and still as deadly.

Jeanne, there are so many weird people in the world, and so many unfanthomable, unpredictable things. Thats just the way things are. We can keep as much as we can pure. We have both locked a bit up in the hopes and mysteries of the sky. And in love.

As much as there is hate, there is love.
Love can heal hate.

the proof will be...

naruto can heal sasuke