tight might break

japanese food, brick walls, silly bands, joie de vivre.

---

this is an awesome look!

cardigan, chinos, plain shirts, brogues, loafers, converses,

i need new clothes.

oh, and a haircut. 

hubris:

when the storm you've spun billows in disarray and wrecks the subterfuge you worked so hard to deceitfully create. you realize there is nothing left for you to cower behind; the hinderance you so artfully construct has crumbled into mere dust. you find yourself alone in the midst of pandemonium surrounded by  the 'drabs' (as you call us) your foolish endeavours trailed along. the once high and mighty throne you rest on suddenly becomes a seat for fools. you have lost everything, you are nothing.

and for what? your pride has killed you.

---

Inadequacy;

a cancerous cell

engulfing thoughts

of confidence.

surmounting courage

like a sailing ship

towards a hurricane. 

what?

lady, woman, girl, child:

she is a beautiful lady:

nowhere would you find those sapphire-lit eyes, like whirlpools that drowns every ship.
her body is a compact maze of enchantement and elegance you'll find yourself lost in for a while.
there are none of her touches that you will not find electrifying as she playfully tugs at the back of your head whilst running her fingers down your spine.

but she is not the lady everyone sees. she is not the person you would imagine crouched in the corner of her room; a razor in her hand and blood out her other. the woman naked in front of the mirror, sulking, grim, and depressed. the girl in the bathroom with pills in her hand, the days burgeoning like those white salvations in her mouth. there is no room for anyone in her heart, only pain and anguish.

we see a portrait, but the paint's wearing thin and the empty canvas beneath it is starting to show.
but what can we do?

5 short notes to people:

1. you are cute and i like you. but you are kind of a slut (you've even said so yourself), and i'm not sure how i feel about it. sometimes i'm totally okay with that - i think that's the heart talking. but then my brain (and friends) would hit me at the back of my head and tell me i probably make up an insignificant (too insignificant) part of your queer exploits. i would like you even more if you weren't... you know.

2. you are really really cute/hot and i really really like you ('like', of course, being based on general impression), even more than that person above. But the chances of us getting together is just slightly slimmer than the chances of us even meeting. so there's that. if we were physically acquainted i would do anything to get to know you.

3. you are amazing and i want you in my life forever. when you leave for New York you better remember that you've left a big part of you back here, and that big part is me. and while it is unlikely that i will cry when i send you off at the airport (because i am too classy and cool for that despite me really caring), i want you to bawl your eyes out when we part ways at the airport... even though you're cooler and classier than me. best buds for life.

4. you should realize that you are awesome and deserve much more than that person you cry for because you have friends (including me) who will be there for you and entertain your silly antics unlike that worthless flea.

5. sometimes you are incredibly annoying but then again, so am i. and i guess that's how our friendship works, which apparently, is pretty darn good. you are someone i immediately think of when i'm in the mood for something idiotic. we compromise a lot for each other without compromising on sincerity.

casanova impostore:

you liken yourself

to the stars in the sky

when you're just a sinking comet

that has already lost its spark.

you say you're enchanted

to know me

when we both know

you're just a pathetic fabulist

you try to captivate 

anyone and everyone

even when you've exposed

yourself as a lascivious monster.

there is no game for you to play at all,

so give it up already.

fottuto perdente

an abandoned train station:

shad(ow)e

will you

let me linger around you

like a shadow stuck to a man?

(silly question)

though it's not like i can detach myself

from your presence, you know

(it's pretty hard, i must say).

but what will i do anyway?

without you

i'll merely be a shade

for the rest of my life.

a wandering one

without a home.

just lost

(that would be truly tragic)

.

---

i am on a roll. many more drafts including prose but i don't really feel very prose-y.
in love with helena christensen right now. she is gorgeous. and there is something just so sexy about a woman dressed for the 1960's feminist movement with a cigarette in her hand. said it before but i'll say it again. just, so, sexy. not that i condone smoking but yeah.

never let me go:

hold me

like you mean it.

because i want you

to mean it

(even if you don't)

and never let me go.

kiss me

like i'm your lover.

because i am

(even though you don't seem to think so)

and i will be

and you must never let me go.

plunge me

into despair,

for living in a delusion

(it was worth it)

and trapping me

inside your heart

and never letting me go.

---

why can't i write happy stuff?

whatever.

life instead of ramblings:

had skinny pizza with the three below plus andersen's family chocolate fondue (since i had a 50% off for that) on monday;

it does taste as good as it looks. Bailey's cream was heavenly. plus the kiwi!

i think i did other stuff from tuesday to thursday but i can't remember. oh well.

anyway, friday:

town with the balls for mediterranean cuisine. which, guess what? was only 10 dollars per person including the 25% off! we had, without pictures cos' i'm lazy to transfer, shish kebab with tomato rice, mushrooms and cheese and beef, peach and strawberries strudel, bread and butter pudding, cheesecake, and coffeecake. considering that that's so much (many) food, it's pretty cheap.

AND AFTER THAT, we went to get me a camera! my very first, actually. a canon powershot-g12. and i love it so much, from the flip-screen (heh) to the posterized, and many other awesome effects. 

and then i met zelia for funsies. chardonnay, and cabaret. what can i say?

---

water:

the ocean drowned me
when i couldn't float
well enough
to enjoy it's crash

and

instead of an embrace
i was dragged down
while trying desperately
to scramble back
up for air

all

while being suffocated
by your need
to engulf
everything around you.

darkness:

the darkness that stemmed from her heart
grew and crept through her entire entity, aided by the cracks and schisms melancholy had inflicted upon her.
and when darkness engulfed all that she was,
what was left
of her was an empty shadow; a past of a long-forgotten persona.

at times she wondered what was wrong with her
what fed the depression and satiated the darkness that made her heart cold.
it was her inability to ignore and move past the forgotten that carved her soul,
that held her hand while it led her down the spiral staircase
while assuring her that the depths of her heart was where her original self would fit perfectly.
perfectly: locked inside a cellar with walls spaced so close that claustrophobia was replaced with the sensation of drowning.
perfectly, was unimaginable perfect for someone lost to the insidious claws of grief and agony.

the lifeless body that sprawled on its pool of life
amid a mess of papers, some stained and some spared,
found only one which had any semblance of her left.
it was scribbled illegibly,
and only the first word, could be read:
'sorry', it said, meant to deliver a greater impact if all the other papers that were meant to be filled became a letter.

---

i've been writing some pretty dark stuff.

words:

your words slit my wrists
like a knife
dipped in shattered glass

crimson liquid flood the floor
and stained the tiles
our lives were built upon

it poured like a waterfall
till there was no more
left to give

nothing within me,
anyway.

Remus Lupin

"remus lupin was supposed to be on the h.i.v. metaphor. it was someone who had been infected young, who suffered stigma, who had a fear of infecting others, who was terrified he would pass on his condition to his son. and it was a way of examining prejudice, unwarranted prejudice towards a group of people. and also, examining why people might become embittered when they’re treated that unfairly."
- jk rowling

oh my god. this is genius. I WANT TO WRITE AS GOOD AS HER. seriously, this gives HP so much more layers than it already has. i mean yeah luh, anyone reading the book would probably know the intention was to show a person coping with fitting into society. and my interpretation was, since a book as good as this is meant for us to interpret, that he meant to portray the outcasts in society, which i originally thought was one of the clients she helped during her days in Amnesty, and how they gain acceptance with people who truly accept who he is. yeah, pretty deep.

i think people sometimes mistake HP for a simple series you read to live vicariously and they don't get why there are so many fans (including me) who loves it. it's not just a book. it's literally a microcosmic (HEH) portrayal of society apart from the countless hours of imagination pleasure. 

the bridge has burned:

tell me it's gonna be alright
(i know it's not but i need some reassurance)
tell me how,
the light that left
her eyes found someone else's,
and her body will crumble
to dust
but find it's way back above.

tell me her death was unforeseeable
(even though it wasn't -- it wasn't suppose to happen)
when the only thing that survived
was me
me and all my glory
my fucking glory.

tell me it isn't my fault
(when it was, it really was)
that loose lips
and tipsy drips
weren't made for the wheel.
that i shouldn't have allowed
her to imbibe
all her sorrows away
well instead it was her
who was imbibed
by 2 tonnes of now-scrap metal.

---

inspiration:

no inspiration.