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Showing posts from October, 2013
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Update: I am so excited to get my exams done with so I can start on my book!

Is it silly if I say I'm horrendously, awfully, horribly terrified of losing you?

Person, people, ghosts.

1. there is a girl i grow white flowers for. some days you can see it in her eyes, how i try to sweep the petals off her front yard. it’s supposed to be spring, but you could see the decay eating her away from the inside. it’s hard to stay silent, where there’s a car crash right down the street. i don’t know how bloody it got, but the girl, the girl in the backseat, she’s so young -
there is a girl who believes she is a monster. i don’t know why. i believe there is a mist like a veil in her mind, but i think i understand her, understand the white noise and feelings of sinking, how the shadows sing her down late at night -

2.there was a boy i once knew. he is now a man, but skin of alabaster and bones of plaster. he had a sabre-toothed grin. never in years i would think he tasted like caramel; i’d like to think he is alright.

3.there is a girl i know, my goldfish girl. with scales so iridescent you could see them reflect the light from the wheat and the fields, you would know it was …

" To hell with it. Nothing hurts if you don't let it. "

-Ernest Hemmingway

The French have a phrase for it. The bastards have a phrase for everything and they are always right. To say goodbye is to die a little.

When I met you, I knew that there would never be another person whom I wanted more than you.

Since the first time you touched me, I knew that your skin against mine would be the only thing that I could ever crave.

When you said that you loved me, it was the only time that I ever believed in those words when they were coming out of someone else's mouth.

I promised myself to you, and it’s the only one that I will never break.

All I have ever wanted to do since I’ve known you, is to explore your body. And I know that no land will ever be able to compare to the feeling of the warmth of your love against my skin.
I wonder what would have
happened to us if I wouldn’t have
let you go. And by that I mean
if I didn’t let you walk out that door,
would you have stayed
for the entire night?
Or would you have
caught a cab after I had finally
fallen asleep; making sure
that there were no signs
of you leaving me in a bed
that has been covered in
yesterdays mistakes, and todays
hopes. I didn’t tell you
not to go; didn’t beg on my knees
to try to make you see things
through my eyes.
We could even say
that I opened up that door,
and pushed you out myself.
But what’s the point in trying to
tell someone that you didn’t mean it?
Because once they are gone,
there is no amount
of apologetic phrases,
that could make them
want to come back in.

You're a mess and you're weak in the knees.

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It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for. It doesn’t interest me how old you are, I want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine. It doesn’t interest me where you live or how rich you are, I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and be sweet to the ones you love. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life.

I wish I believed in fate.

I wish I didn't sleep so late.
I wish I could feel your warmth.
I wish I had a cup of tea.
I wish I could inhale you.
I wish for a hot shower.
I wish our fingers were intertwined.
I wish I didn't miss you.

(I miss you terribly.)
Some people, you only get to know for a couple of weeks and you will be infatuated with them.
You will hold their hand like it's hope.
You will gaze into their eyes like it's the galaxy.
You will kiss them like they're your source of oxygen.
You will "love" them like as if they're your purpose in life.

You will meet these people along the way but let me tell you this, you do not love them.
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19 years of lesson - Vitamere

When you see how your blood still runs the color of sunsets and your tears the color of oceans deep, do not forget to remember that your lungs inhale heaven every time they expand.

Keep the soles of your feet firmly planted on the earth. With weak ankles and knobby knees, embrace your form because even the most beautiful trees grow up crooked. It’s okay, because you can reach for sunlight with both arms flung open. Let it sink in your pores and flow bright in your veins.

Gather up your broken blades like lost teeth. You can trade them in for better things, but don’t forget to ask for so much more. They are not your haphazard collection of keys. Throw them out, now, and don’t look for more doors to unlock.

The more you love, the more you lose. The more you lose, the more you gain. The more you gain, the more you love. Do not stop halfway or you risk losing it all, even the love you never knew you had.

Trace the graceful slope of your valleys with your fingertips, a lover’s caress. Real…

"there is thunder in our hearts."

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So since I've a lot of questions asking me where am I and if I'm alright and whatnot, I just wanted to let whoever asked me those questions know that I'm currently on hiatus due to my exams, because it's really time consuming for me to answer every question, considering the fact that I've deleted over a 100+ (because they're stupid, unpractical, harassing) and I've 233 pending questions.
My exams will be over in a week, and I'll get straight to answering every question as soon as it's finished.
And yes I'm alright. Much love x

October 24th

we don’t get fall here; i get to watch the trees let go all year round. in a year, one of my favourite places would be gone. (make love on a bed you would never see again) (i can hear the thunder rumbling like the futures passing) i’ve tested my poisons this year and they said i have an acid tongue, gilded fangs to match, but you could say it all started when eve took a bite of the apple.

we all sin the same; we all howl the same, and we all grope around in the dark. i’ve felt the breeze from the end of the world brush against my skins and i still think that my hands look like paws and my feet have grown claws but i think i’ll be okay.

It was our 11th and I thought it was the 12th, you laughed at my silliness and I giggled. I made you cry and in return, I cried myself. You said I broke your heart (forgive me), if that was true, I think I broke my own too, because I could never hurt you without hurting myself.
You are the definition of absolute bliss, and my god, I am absolutely in lov…

Bliss is:

1. Sitting in a tub of hot water while showering with cold water
2. Eating Pringles and watching adventure time at 4am
3. Falling asleep on the massage chair while it's storming outside
4. Watching the sunrise
5. Drinking 5 cups of Lipton while writing
6. Successfully solving all the mathematical problems
7. Learning new things (e.g: guitar, karate)
8. Putting you to sleep and watching over you while you sleep
9. New stationaries and sweet stuff (i.e: marshmallows, Crunchie, toffee, caramel, Thin Mints)
10. You

❝ Kiss your own fingertips and hug your own curves. You are made of waves and honey and spicy peppers when it is necessary. You are a goddess, I hope you haven’t forgotten. ❞

Fairytales do not begin like this:

1) This is how it begins: in the dark, we are the very definition of ‘fallen.’ The night is draped around our shoulders. I have never loved you more than I do in this moment. I wonder if you can feel the throb beneath your claws. I wonder how it is possible that you cannot hear it.

2) It starts, as most things, like an accident. Boy, I found you bleeding on the side of a road, your thigh was split open to reveal highway lanes, you couldn’t look at me without flinching, the first words you growled were ‘fuck off.’

3) And I would have left you there except you looked so much like a wounded animal, so much like the wolf with the broken paw, the kind that bites before it realises that teeth do not hurt half so much when you are hopeless.

4) And you were so hopeless. We should have realised then that when we touched, there was ruin. Because there were stirrings on the other side of town, and our neighbours tree uprooted itself from the pull, and they said it was the storm but really it …
It has been two of the most exhausting (physically, mentally, emotionally) weeks of my life.
I am so glad 2013 is coming to an end.
I cannot wait for 2014 to begin (even though there's a high chance of it being shit too, we'll just have to wait and see.)
But for all that has happened, something good came out of it, I'd rather not state it here, but yes, something good came out of it, and for that, I'm thankful.

Happy potato

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Pointless update: I've a new guitar!

(p.s: i like soy milk too)

and i wrote a four page long god knows what it's called telling you that you're wonderful and all that's good in the world, (which you really are), having eyes even the Caribbean Sea would envy, hands that fit mine perfectly and all that clichés.

but before I could finish off the last sentence, I realized that I didn't love you, and probably never will. Not that I don't want to, but I can't.

I really meant to love you, I'm sorry.
and you can tell me what we had was not love, which is true, but I'd still feel equally guilty.
But my darling, you are wonderful.


excerpt:
"if I could describe you in one word, it'd be wonderful.
Because that's what you really are, absolutely, utterly wonderful.
and maybe you're thinking 'why not perfect?'
because I know you aren't, you know you aren't, and after all, you are just human.
But just human is good. human and flawed is good.
It means you're real.
It means you're not a figment…
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I know it is extremely unhealthy but it order to get over someone that I like, I just write them out of my system.

"I saw constellations in your eyes, and I felt home on your lips."

— Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forever's. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we'd given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I'm hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.

And I will not be afraid of your scars.

I know sometimes it's still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know:
whether it's the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or …
Both are convinced that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together. Beautiful is such a certainty, but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they’d never met before, they’re sure that nothing was happening between them. What of streets, stairways and corridors, where they could have passed each other long ago?

I’d like to ask them whether they remember– Perhaps in a revolving door ever being face to face? An “excuse me” in a crowd? A curt “wrong number” in the receiver?
But I know the answer:
No, they don’t remember.

They’d be greatly astonished to learn that for a long time Chance had been playing with them.

Not yet wholly ready to transform into fate for them it approached them, then backed off, stood in their way, and, suppressing a giggle, jumped to the side.

There were signs and signals, even if they couldn’t read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago or just last Tuesday a certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another? Something was dropped and then picked up. Who know…
I just receive this message on my ask.fm and I want to cry

I love the way you write, speak and just live. You're like my favourite character in a book that I love and can't stop reading about; there's no other way to put it. your art is beautiful, you're beautiful.
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For the sake of your feelings, I will not spare them.
I will not be pretty for you.
I will insert the fish hook.
I will drag you by the throat.
I will not stop writing, even if you asked politely.
Because you think there is some kind of camaraderie in the fact that we are both human.
I will not stop writing because you asked.
Because it makes you uncomfortable.
Because my words don't sit well in your mouth.
Because my words feel like a bed of hot coals
beneath your feet.
You want me to see that I am wrong.
You want me to be docile. Obedient.
Fetch, poet. Write me fields of roses. Write me love poem.
Write me the moon, write me doe-eyed babies, write me gentle girls.
Fetch, poet. Fetch.
I am not your fucking laureate.
I do not listen to you. I will not.
In the universe I create within my words, I am God.
I starve my writing, and I feed my writing.
Sometimes I do not let them bathe for a week,
or I let them stay up all night.
I do not always keep a watchful eye, I do not care to.
Do no…

Self Portrait, O.

I scrounge for change. I bring my notebook everywhere
because it's easier that way. I start books

but do not finish them. I think about love obsessively.
Everything I do reminds me of him. My best friend talks

to me about God, wants me to believe, but
I do not have that kind of faith, I only believe in the

easy things, like red lipsticks and coffee before noon
and writing essays in pen. I make my mind up about

boys and the I un-make it, compare us to continental
drift, two ships passing. I hit the snooze button

too often. Write disposable poems on napkins and
old homeworks, try to discipline myself when it

comes to removing my makeup before going to sleep.
I am trying to understand men better, cut them some

slack, write about them less. (Boys are too
overrated.) I dream about oceans and mountains and

wolves. I do not always love myself as I tell people to.
I do not always forgive myself as I tell people to.

I write apology letters and do not send them, I am not
as kind and subtle …
So...

I'm awfully awfully excited about the fact that I might be publishing a book after my A Levels through Amazon.
Even though it isn't a 100% done deal yet, it's most likely going to happen (something on my bucketlist to cross off!)
I'M SO EXCITED I AM GOING TO CRY AND I AM GOING TO HEAVE AND HYPERVENTILATE AND DIE

have a good day
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"
1. DO NOT KILL YOURSELF. KILLING YOURSELF IS VERY MESSY AND YOUR MOTHER WILL CRY OVER YOU. IT IS NOT BEAUTIFUL OR BRAVE, AND EVEN IF IT WAS, YOU WILL NOT BE AROUND TO SEE THAT.

2. WASHING YOUR HAIR IS GOING TO BE A CHORE. BUT YOU SHOULD DO IT ANYWAY. BECAUSE YOU WILL FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOURSELF.

3. GET UP LATE. HAVE A LAY IN. SLEEP PAST YOUR ALARM. YOU HAVE A VERY LONG LIFE AHEAD OF YOU AND FOR NOW YOU SHOULD APPRECIATE THE COLD SIDE OF YOUR PILLOW.

4. HE IS GOING TO BREAK YOUR HEART BUT HE’S JUST ANOTHER MALE HUMAN WHO FINDS IT HARD TO DEAL WITH MONDAYS, TOO. SO IN A MONTH YOU’LL WAKE UP AND YOU WON’T EVEN REMEMBER THAT LITTLE SCAR ON HIS KNUCKLE YOU KISSED.

5. DON’T SPEND HOURS LOOKING UP WHAT YOUR NAME MEANS ON GOOGLE. YOUR NAME IS YOUR NAME AND YOU SHOULD GO OUT THERE AND DO HEROIC AND GOOD DEEDS AND GIVE YOUR NAME YOUR OWN MEANING.

6. DON’T FIGHT YOUR DEMONS. YOUR DEMONS ARE HERE TO TEACH YOU LESSONS. SIT DOWN WITH YOUR DEMONS AND HAVE A DRINK AND A CHAT AND LEARN THEIR NAM…
it's funny how petty we can be as human beings.
we get so involved in judging others by such redundant things. we fight and argue and we face such a small and insignificant hardship in your life and it becomes the focus of all we see.
sometimes it helps if you step back and reevaluate the fact that you are a gigantic rock being thrown through space at speeds unfathomable.
relax.
take it easy.
life is short.
enjoy it while you can before it gets too painful to leave your house in the morning.
smile.
I don't know what to tell you
other than the fact that a giraffe's
heart weighs 22 pounds and that
somebody once told me when
flies fall in love, their entire brain
is rewired to only know loving each
other. when one of them dies,
their memory becomes blank. I hope you
never think about anything as much
as I think about waking up next to
you during a windstorm at 5 am.
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"Before you know it, it's 3 am and you're 80 years old and you can't remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart."
the best advice I've ever gotten
was that I shouldn't be in a
relationship with anyone whom
I wouldn't marry, for it's a waste
of time and takes you off the market.

so don't worry about relationships.

build friendships, and one day
maybe you'll suddenly meet your
soul mate, or you'll realize you
want to spend the rest of your
life with your best friend

your young life shouldn't be spent
trying to fall in love or even having to
worry about a partner.

your life right now should be filled
with spending time on finding yourself
band building friendships.