baby witch sneezes

the reality of it all

2006-04-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

is happiness completely impossible?

1. you meet someone nice. ya yay yay
then somehow, somewhere at the pinnacle of happiness
they have to go somewhere.

to goddamn kajang
or russia or
sigh.. semenyih.

2. then they say they will remember you
yaa
sure sure. for like three months.
or so. in fact, three months, would be commendable.
ha ha ha

3. then you stay long distance.
yaya for like how long?
say you stick till the both of you graduate.
oooo waaa, so looooong right?
he cheats on you he doesn't say anything
you cheat on him, you don't say anything oh well.

4. after a while, five years at it, you need to go overseas.
for real.
you guys can't break up anymore. because five years,wooo
that's engagement time man.
so you stay together. even though you screw each other around AGAIN.
but its okay.
its called TOLAK ANSUR. give and take. (that's why i flunkd moral)

5. so you guys after all that shitty time get married.
yay yay. got married right?
got love not? dunno. got difference meh? dunno ooo.
everybody happy you marry good good person
but you dunno whether you like this good good person.
the good good person also dunno if he like you or the girl in his bed yesterday
*ITS NOT YOU*btw.

6. so you all married
you have his children. yay yay.
they look like him. aibt like you also la. but hell they look like him too.
he brings other kids home to visit you
gosh they look like him too

jeng jeng jeng.

7. you dont say anything when you fight
before marriage, sure sure, you'll never fight. its not in your nature.
ya ya.
when you live everyday iwth the same person, bloodshed is bound to occur
so fight fight, he knows you best, he can also menyakiti you the best.
so you get hurt. wo wee.
but you're still in love.
he is too.
kinda... sorta...

8. after that, he die.
you sad, because he die. you want to die. but cannot. because he smoke more than you do.

conclusion: you never really, really had him now... did you? heh heh. so how now?

love is

2006-04-03T07:23:00.000-07:00

feeling: clingy, obscenely spiteful but woozy beneath the surface

touches of hangover are visible, the spindly fingers of the disgusting gin are pushing themselves down my throat.

love is kind
love is patient
love is gentle
love is unselfish
love is vague
love is false at times
love is beautiful
love is rotten
love is painful
love is wonderful

love makes you grow up

i need to grow up
i really, really do

love can be fucking dodgy
love is when he gives you his salmon sushi even though you know he loves salmon before he met you
love is when he gives you his rares, and wins rares for you when he could have actually picked something he wants for himself.

im stuck with this boy for the last six months.
felt like a minute
i wish the minute would drag on to abyss and eternity :-D

no crab

2006-03-22T04:35:00.000-08:00

i know. im confused about my last post as well.
what if it only comes and goes like flicker of madness?
oh well.

i found something cool online. i want to give it to someone i really, really really like. on a special day.
i wonder if he'd find it perfectly notoriously riotiously romantic.
or just plain cheesy. piled with mozarella and shitty pepperoni.

i wonder if i should call up the pizza people and tell them that i only want one topping, in case two or more start to fight. i don't want to go for aesthetic surgery. im terrified of knives. i've only had knives deface and devour my body. making me scarred and blood-encrusted.. would it do something good for me?
it makes me feel good.
maybe it would too, this time.

there has been no overpowering mad desire to do vegabond things and live a vagabond life. i miss that. where lonliness would be my friend and the silence settles around like psyche encased within a purple butterfly.

i like john keat's ode to psyche. i dont know why they call it weak.not like as though he presents superb arguments with his other poems anyway. im not a fan of the other odes. i secretly dig hyperion and ode to psyche and ode to a grecian urn. 'beauty is truth and truth beauty'.

what is truth? what is beauty?

its like being doubtful always. about everything. perhaps i should pay homage to buddha with flowers and candles. symbols of impermanence. wavering dimensions. that flit across the sand of time. i don't believe in anything anymore.

sigh.
not even destiny or redemption. christians seem to feel that there is only one redemption.
oh yeah, my family wants me exorcised. they think that im possessed by legions. no kidding.

hm

2006-03-12T06:23:00.000-08:00

im feeling: contented. but slighted

what do i know about gut feelings?
what do i know about the dream i had been having a long long long time ago that broke my heart each time i woke up?

sigh.
i wonder if it will ever come true? what about that feeling within the pit of my soul and my chest each time?

my gut has never been wrong.
perhaps ignored to an extent.
but never wrong.

ive always been in love.... for the longest longest time.
sigh

you have something to die for?

2006-03-08T17:36:00.000-08:00

listening to: enter sandman-metallica
im feeling: extremely small, quickheartbeat and throbbing temples.

i didn't sleep till six in the morning. i had to wake up at seven. i had an hour of sleep and that was abattle of itself. i do not understand the point of me having that dream for the second or third time.

is my subconscious warning me? about what? freud would tell me that im not getting enough sex. plato would believe that i do not govern the republic well enough wtih my head and it will go into pieces. socrates would say, FUCK DEITIES and drink FUCK RAT POISON.

but why do i have this dream? over and over again? why? oh dear god why. and its the only vivid dream i have been having. the only one where i do bolt upright, as they do in the movies. i get all sad when i wake up and wonder if it is accurate. it pisses the shit out of me. only one thing that makes me feel better and puts me to sleep. apart from hearing his voice, that is. okay so two things can knock me out peacably.

its one of those days, where you feel like you're the planet's biggest loser. but i know im not. :p ive dated far worse. george orwell's 1984 might have been giving me the nightmares. its my greatest deepest darkest fears personified. it actually bums me when im reading.

its leaving me breathless. and i have negligence test tomorrow. but i can'tput it down. its so amazing. its better than the animal farm. or at least way way way way up there la. wow. propaganda. death of liberties. and rights of men and women. death of emotional complexities and death of diginity. dignity within humanity. for there would be no humanity left. only shame, fear, paranoia and hate. deepset hate. thoughts would be monitored and children would be violent. a small reflection of society.

i can see this happening in the not-so-distant future.
but i'll die if it is not in vain to stop this. i would die.
maybe martin luther king struck me. 'if a man has nothing to die for, he is not fit to live' martin luther king.
the answer was easy for my question.

do you have anything to die defending?
yeah.
shell-shocked me.

martin luther king, lewis carroll and george orwell in one day. and the un resolutions.
maybe im becoming fairly bright now. bordering mediocrity and stupidity. its called spastici-sm.

chicken chicken and sing songs

2006-03-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

feeling: throbbing. and nose runny. exteremely sleepy.

there must be a way to combat sandman constantly lurking over my face. its like he went super-mini-sized and is sitting on my nose 24/7. i cannot eat chili in the morning, because there is some battle of actium going on in my stomach.
im currently, maddeningly obsessed.
and i finally brought it. yay yay.
i got it. i got it. she lent it to me. booo boo yaa yaa. yay yay.

its a bad bad maddening mood-swinger. i just think of antony and i go all :( i actually cried when i read antony's speech to the stupid moron roman crowd.
i woke up this morning with the kfc original recipe chicken theme song playing in my head.

it was blurry with captions, "only at mcd's" i wonder why im having fast-food oily dreams? maybe i've been working overtime and im going mad. probably.
yeah, its a blown fuse or something. exams in nine weeks. not entirely worried about literature. just tort and contract. whoopee.

im kinda not looking forward for this to end. because it would be like after spm all over again. i would have to make decisions for myself.

that everyone else would believe i cannot achieve or i should do something else. first of all, if you do not make the decision, they call you indecisive.
you pick a college, they call you spendthrift.
you pick a course they can't afford, they call you inconsiderate.
you pick some stupid course that you will ace because its child's play, they say you have no future.
you want to study in england, they tell you no money.
you want to daftar to local uni, they tell you, you no smart enough.

i feel like a degenerate punk. a useless degenerate.
maybe i should really consider dropping the idea of law school and go for art scholarship. except...
1. i'll be among gifted people who can really REALLY draw (not like you, who scribbles and splashes paint) and my work only looks good to people who cannot draw.
2. i dont really want to draw for a living. its a hobby. i dont want it to become my life.
3. the pay sucks balls, shitcockfuckpiss, (apologize for harsh language, i have lack of superlatives)
4. money laundering is essential for survival in the future.
5. i actually kinda like law right now.

but of course, i won't be able to cope after a levels.
morons don't do their llbs. wow i just feel like a moron now.

-dinky lala, all i can think of is the original recipe chicken's theme song.

sad sad me

2006-03-07T04:05:00.000-08:00

im feeling: hatred towards friendster.

nina bruja feel pain inside. nina bruja wants to cry.
had too much of pizza and has this downright blackened hatred towards mankind. specially those who own friendster.

i hate friendster.
i hate friendster.

i want to delete it.
but govind wrote nice nice testimonials.

aiiiih.

i don't understand why he stopped talking to me. since valentine's day. we were best friends. but since then, he has never called, messaged or even imed me on msn.
why did i have to ask him that?
now we cant even be friends.
the best thing is that im not sure why.
im pretty sure it had something to do with the question i asked him.

but why? whats so bad about what i asked?

he knows me in and out.
so why can't i ask for the same thing? whats so bad about the war in the head? whats the difference even if you tell me or not?
but now you stop talking to me. sigh.

thought of the day: kenapa?

i shouldn't be left at home alone like this. i'll just sink into sad sad. had to walk in the rain home today.
no transport. bleargh. i hope the build of bad luck will wash away by saturday. why when other people are sad, everyone else seems to care?

when nina bruja cry, tak kena je.

lucy sky of diamonds

2006-03-03T03:42:00.000-08:00

im feeling: indifferent. like i should listen to something like stereophonics.
or suede. or queen. a happier note, in fact.

maybe because i saw him today :) yes, diary of a lovesick foolish baby witch. if only i had was magicKally spell-binding eyes, like crazy shooting stars oozing from my eyelids that would make him stay in my arms, always. happiness is like riding through pink clouds on the back of a blue flying giraffe soaring through the air, holding both of our hearts in its mouth. it would take eternity for either one of us to reach the ground.

reality wouldn't be so ugly. if he were still with me. and if the magick stayed there long enough, when it withers away, he would not care any longer.

perhaps if i beseeched isis, hathor, ishtar and lilith.
isis
hathor
ishtar
lilith

the spells would last longer. the spells would last forever. or it would serve to save me from grey searing pain or from the ivy thorns creeping around my face, turning it into an ugly shade of envy.

i have a theory why im having delirious thoughts of him as my boyfriend. he is... too... complete. there is nothing severly dysfunctional about him and he doesn't view me as his only road to normalcy. i've never got the 'you put me back on solid ground' message from him. he's too normal. like orange tigers. with black stripes. without crooked horns that shine like moon-people.

i swear, today, i saw tiny little sea-nymphs, the colour of shampoo foam floating in the drain. maybe they were just little leaves, but they were dancing on the water. it took me ages to finish my cigarette in the morning, because i didn't want to leave. my head started to hurt afterwards. and then i went to law class with this horrid cold, someone pulled out my nose nad replaced it with a water-slide.

there is no sheet of perfection to cloak myself with, no armour of protection needed to be normal for their sake. ive always clung to the word, 'smile and be happy. no matter how dead you are inside. no boy would ever love a crazy like you. so never let him find out.'

but i don't have to.
im not crazy. i may sound crazy, like im on lsd in this blog, i see yellow eyed goblins, nymphs in drains and flying giraffes.
ive never taken lsd.

Lucy in the Sky of Diamonds.
confessions:
-i wanted to be dragged into womanhood with that song playing in the background
-i wanted my first kiss (with a boy i really really liked) to be behind me
-this would be a good make-out song
-bad song to strip to, though
-wonderful, WONDERFUL SONG TO TANI. and smoke.

rules only apply to my smoker friends (or really, really good kisser friends) :P

kikosticah wahuuauaa......

more funn

2006-03-02T17:52:00.000-08:00

i just feel like writing.

for some odd reason. perhaps because sometimes there are angels with gowns that shine like cigarette butts and curl away like the silver cigarette smoke. i feel like as though they are watching me, like how atlas bestrides the ocean.

but why? why do they dance on gutters and still are able to reach up to graze burning stars? its as though they want to tell me something, they plucked the burning blue stars and planted them into my stomach. and my gut tells me strange things. that i wish weren't true. but they always happen to be.

contrast between heaven and hell, instinct and paranoia. gutters and burning stars? they are all in essence of the same god, the same maker, the same mother that gave birth to them and proceeded to eat them and give birth when the morning comes to give the world dawn. for dawn breaks from goddess nut's birth canal.

i feel as though life... is not entirely a box of chocolates, they give me zits. there is something hidden. somewhere. i cannot put my finger on it. sometimes, when we are apart, eros carresses my soul and whispers sweet things of love, and how i would despair if he were to leave me.
but when we are together, he towers above me and i silently wonder how did i even end up in his arms? how could i possibly think that we would last?

when our values are essentially the same, but souls... made out of different dusts? my dusts were cleaned out from a demon's belly. his ash were from burning wings of doves. they aren't the same. but then again, demon's belly, dove's wings... are they not the same in decay?

they still are carried by the wind. and they still dance on the faces of unwitting people. i've got so much unfinished work to catch up to. but all i can do, is listen. to the songs of the air around me, whispering in melodic trance. pain is the only familiar feeling inside my bones.

familiarity breeds comfort. comfort breeds contempt. all residing within myself.

i don't understand anything.

goblins and stupidity.

2006-03-02T17:44:00.000-08:00

im feeling: worried.

i misplaced the ENTIRE ipod once more. boy, im so intelligent. i can't even remember where. remotely. all that is in my mind was how i waltzed into his car, and was completely oblivious of everything else in the world with the exception of my boyfriend.

gee whiz, im so bright. its such a pride.

i hope to god i do not lose it. i will be so upset. i do not know what the fuck i would do to myself if i did. sigh. i couldn't even remember vaguely if it was in my pocket or something else altogether because... i do not even remember if i had my pants on half of the time.

moving on. there is supposed to be a test on some obscure topic that i know nothing about and it is probable that i would crash and burn. i do not say definite because it is infite, but probable would be precise. im thinking of goblins.

yellow amber-eyed goblins that a clear like salt crystals. they hammer at my head. not to make me feel sad. just tired, really. im not feeling well today. im ill. its so hot but so cold. i just want to go home right now. and find my ipod there. or vomit. or something.

stand over the toilet bowl and throw up everything, the amber-eyed goblins would push it all out of my body, make me feel pure once more. perhaps i would even proceed to throw up my liver. i just feel as though there is something evil inside.

or im being pure dramaqueen. AS ALWAYS. im still being appalled by my stupidity. sigh. utterly shocked. by how i would probably flunk too. whee.

more later. bluuuuhhhhhhhssiee..

story of mad-bed-dwellers

2006-03-02T07:09:00.000-08:00

im feeling: clingy. missing. relief.

i was late for almost three weeks. i suppose its to my strange eating habits. which are disappearing. i suppose. but thank god. there was no baby inside my stomach when i placed the ear-phones over my stomach with metallica blasting through the womb. but still...
i think that he would make such a wonderful father. he actually imagined a little girl, vaguely looked like me, running around in a long white cotton dress, with long black black curly hair with a pair of gauzy white and pinkish wings fastened on her back. she would have his large brown eyes, with the dark blue rings around the irises. and we'd name her razia sophia.

i thought of writing a story. of how i would run away from my house, because they believed that i would bring nothing but shame to the honourable household. i escape to my boyfriend's house. who's parents would not approve an unmarried union of their beloved only son. so i live under his bed.

i sleep under a coat of green hairballs, dust bunnies as my only companions and i speak to the springs that creak whenever he shifts position above my body. the food that reaches my stomach would be the leftovers he salvaged from dinner and i would resort to cutting slowly at his ankle, drawing a tiny stream of blood that would flow steadily into my mouth.

daylight would not touch me and oxygen would be even more impure. i would breathe filth, decay and the legs of mosquitoes. he would occasionally let me out of the bed, when his parents are not home. which is a rarity. we would make love in the moonlight, and i would fall asleep because the night air would be overwhelming.

it is bad luck to sleep in the moonlight when the moon is full.

for i concieve. and a baby girl was born inside his cupboard. his mother was cleaning his room and i decided to clamber inside and breathe the moist air of the dolls inside the cupboard.

the mother mistook me for a doll. she left. after straightening my curly hair. she did not see my bulging stomach. the boy had to deliver the baby in a bucket. my hair was red before the birth.

it stayed red.
and it never turned back to black, no matter how many bottles of dye i had tried on.

i wonder with the baby, if we would have to smother her if she cried.
we couldn't go on living under the bed forever.. the baby would cry.
her smoky eyes were not getting browner like mine. warm, warm honey brown. they were glowing. the dark blue rings around her eyes were eating up the irises.
and her lips were bloodred. she did not want my milk.

she wanted her father's blood from the soles of his feet, i did not tell her he has no more dreams, since i had started drinking from his ankle-veins. if she were to consume his soles, he would have no ability to desire, pleasure or even despair.

but i believe she knew that already. and she kept silent. as we continued to live under the bed springs, of the boy that i still have a horrendous crush on.

strange dreams. cause of ankhs

2006-02-28T19:20:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 26, 2006
i had a dream two days ago. only when i wear my magical ankh to sleep, do i have dreams that i clearly vividly remember, i even recall how the air smelt, how blue the skies were, the sun rays that were bright but did not hurt my skin and his smile, and how my heart did not leap, but just sigh.and i also discovered the truth.

i dreamt that my ex boyfriend was sitting on the floor next to me, smiling at me and i felt comfortable, instead of the screams of 'BLOODY MURDER' welling up inside me in real life. it felt as though no hate had transpired between the two of us and we had been friends as though the rupture in our relationship was the difference between us.maybe that was the true rupture and neither one of us would be brave enough to admit it. sigh.but he just sat that and smiled at me, not his extremely goofy happy smile, but the peaceful smile, no trace of hate or... the dead lifeless eyes he has now around me.

he seems to... i dunno. hate me. his eyes now resemble two black stars when it gazes inside me. sigh. ...and he held me. like he always did. out of habit. out of disparity, out of misery... and i stared into that face of his, searching, just searching for the answer, why did he stop loving me. did he ever truly stop loving me. did he? but i pulled away. his lips that drifted closely frightened me.i couldn't be with him.i love my boyfriend.nowfor real.wow.id chose govind over blur.now.i always thought that there would be this old lingering feeling that would make the decision any much harder than ever. but no.it isn't.it's sparklingly clear. the clarity of it stuns me.but the question will still remain, is something so horrendously wrong with me?lalalaa

feminism

2006-02-28T19:19:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 26, 2006

i wonder if rape is a way of certain under-powered people to put other women in their place. i wonder if this is a form of power struggle between the sexes and why the men always seem to win is because whenever we pull the 'sex-sells' cards, they tend to use it against us. i suppose you can't clap with one hand and it does take two to tango. but still, it goes to show that we cannot rise to the occasion with our head held high as long as there is some male chauvunist pig out there that knows all that he has to do is pinch an extremely well-known woman's buttocks and that would make her feel utmostly violated and sad and ashamed.

the middle easterns uset to regard women as secondary property and woe-bringers of shame and sadness. i wonder if they had their minds wired to this manner. theyknow, if the woman puts a toe out of the line, all the have to do is to rape her, allow her to believe that she has no soul and the man has jurisdiction over her body and she has nothing to her name. take her property, she has never had any to begin with, take her children, you wouldn't want them, but you need to prove that she has no power in this world or the next and take her soul, you are the one responsible for all her sins when she goes to hell or heaven.

they say that hell is overpopulated by women. because we are the cause of sin and the spawn of the demons that live within all human souls and we cause them to surface. is that not what we all fear?

a moment of feminism, ladies and gentlemen. why is there so much... dishonour among us lately? i feel... as though no matter how much one woman rises up in the world, once she is raped, she falls down to the earth. i mean. i honestly dont quite believe that. i that is how our society will indeed view that.

how do we go about changing it?
how do i go about changing it?

how come, a woman's worth is placed within such a trivial part of the human nature?

feel no shame, feel no violation. but its the moral thing to do. feel ashamed, right? to crumble. if you do not do as such, you are a scarlet woman. you deserve not to be on this earth.

i hate male chauvinist pigs.

chinese guildpact booster

2006-02-28T19:17:00.000-08:00

Format:Seal Deck Tournament One Ravnica, City of Guilds Tournament Starter & Two Guildpact Boosters
Top 8 Booster DraftTwo Ravnica, City of Guilds Boosters, and One Guildpact Booster
Entry Fee: RM50.00
Prizes1st place: 3 Round BYE + 36 Guildpact
Boosters2nd place: 18 Guildpact Boosters
3rd & 4th place: 9 Guildpact Boosters
5th to 8th place: 6 Guildpact Boosters
9th to 16th place: 4 Guildpact Boosters
17th to 32nd place: 2 Guildpact Boosters
33rd to LAST: 1 Chinese Guildpact Booster

i dont want to spend fifty bucks for a fucking chinese guildpact booster. although i would get three guildpact boosters and one ravnica starter and that's always good. im not brave enough to post this on my regular blog. everyone would just laugh at me, seeing how insane over magic the gathering ive already gotten. god. i like it.its the only thing that comforts me when i shuffle, when i draw and when i play. its the only thing that keeps my ex boyfriend, whom i love in my view and my current boyfriend, whom i love terribly playing with me.

its the only thing that keeps me calm, because the cards dont lie, and if the math is right your oppenent will suffer damnation. its the only thing, that i believe right now.and i think im reasonablly alright at it. not the greatest most amazing thing that hit the planet la. but im reasonably goood.cards, drawings and music are the only things that don't lie to me.and I WANNA GO FOR THE TOURNAMENT!!

i want to go for sealed pack tournament.i want to go for friday night magic. sigh. i do. its happening tonight (its a wednesday, i know, but at wgs they have it on wednesdays) sigh.my dci points are down the drain.i need points. points. points. sigh.foodwise? my boyfriend knows im bulimic. lol. he wants to do medicine. i appreciate his efforts in trying to make me eat. im getting hungry constantly. im not really worried about getting fat right now. its just a habit to puke. more like an impulse. more like.... a reaction than anything.but im worried. that i may have a fluffy pet growing inside me.sigh.growing up is fun though.i will not get arrested any more this year. that is my oatHoh yeah.

holes. damn

2006-02-28T19:16:00.000-08:00

why is it whenever something bad happens, you fear everything around it?im having an eating problem. few people know. i weigh ninety nine pounds, about, that's forty four kilos and im 5'5. i guess that's okay. its been a while since i called myself fat.

in fact, i do want a larger ass and a rounder chest. lol.but i can't stop puking my guts out. its as though, the second i don't do it, my head spins and i want to cry. my tears burn my eyes.witch babies don't cry.my tears have been burning my eyes since i lost my virginity.its as though my body doesn't want to weep for what it has lost.is there some connection beyond blood and universe we see here?

i think deep deep down, i've been weeping for something that has gone missing for a long, long time. i have no more soul. i have not been feeling anything but pain since the last one year, so i discarded it and now, im just some ridiculous soul case without any insides.now im terrified to love. i mean.. ive given myself few times. and it always explodes.maybe if i went for plastic surgery everything would be better.but dont you know, if your body and torn ragged soul within is bleeding and breaking into three pieces, no one would love you?

no one loves a girl with a gigantic hole in her head.reality enough. no one would ever love me. i'd be some entertaining circus monkey or clown, but then it would only last for two weeks at least. and then i'd hate myself.again.sigh.i hate valentine's day.when someone has a face likem ine.i seriously look as though someone poured acid on my face

first post

2006-02-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

, February 13, 2006
spawn of demon's first post. spawn of demon likes cradle of filth, slayer and manson. among other things that make heads crack.spawn of demon does not like waking up sometimes.because people tend to lie.spawn of demon wishes there were such things as stores where you could buy a new face and forget about the old one, people rarely allow you to forget that you look like a monster but spawn of demon could never afford it.

spawn of demon starts blogging on valentine's day. because spawn of demon is insecure about life, spawn wishes that everyone would land in some obscure vortex sometimes. and spawn will not give out real name. because no one would care. and only loseres whine and blog about being miserable anyway.so spawn of demon will be sod. or useless sod.

who will give you accounts of being arrested, molested and a threatening menace to girls who go near spawn of demon's boyfriend.spawn is bulimic, suicidal and wishes to give soul unto some darker netherworld where sins would not show on her face.like the pornstars.harlots who live the lives of heathens that do not endure the wrath of god.beautiful people should.religious fundementals piss the shit out of demon spawns. and if you talk to me, demon spawn would want you to die.thank you.

it deepens

2006-02-28T19:11:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, February 21, 2006
there is no sense of impending doom at this point. only unavoidable lonliness. not outwardly, not to the world, no, there is no strange emotion of being shunned on GLOBAL PROPORTIONS. there is a hole. inside me.

like someone shot me. not with a machine gun. just with one bullet. maybe with a smith and wesson.not as great as an elephant gun. not so much of a rifle.but its a clean shot.

and hits me, not at the heart, but the stomach and then they proceed to dig out my insides, to widen the hole.why do they do that?to make me suffer, wallow in the pain and realize, just realize that you only start to deliberate and mope over something when it is taken away from you.i know it is not too late. in fact, it should end soon. but in the meantime, i feel like there's a part of my body being taken away. by some blackened demon that personifies the demon chronzon.the lord of the abyss.i miss him.i miss him more than anything right now.i wish he could hold me. and make me feel the lesser of the monster that lives inside, and is starkly visible on the visage.i guess you can't take things for granted.

i cant even put my finger on the true day i realized this. sigh.i just feel so... incomplete right now.goes to show that one can never be happy if one decides not to be.if one decides not to trust another human being, even though there might be a tiny fairy inside one's mind, a tiny fairy, sprinkling dust and the colour of green glass.druid queen does not know everything

its going to hell

2006-02-28T19:08:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, February 21, 2006
there is this gnawing at my soul right now. i suppose its a combination of misplacing my ipod eaorphones in my friend's car (hopefully), horrendous visage as well as not being able to see my boyfriend on a daily basis.i suppose the latter makes me tear the most. not entirely tear. exactly la.there has been this void lately, i suppose it only surfaced sunday.

or monday. i can't remember now. im not going to even speak of it because it distresses me wholly. its impossible to blog in front of other people, even though we're perfect strangers. maybe it is the best way to blog, when you ultimately think about it, right?and my period still hasn't come yet. im wondering if i should be resilient and wait till it does because my gut feeling tells me it is not entirely possible, and mathematically and potentially challenged.

i suppose. what kind of mother still gets pimples and cries when she cuts herself by accident? what kind of mother still kisses her soft toys and treats them like her little children, because they were the only embodiment of love she could ever give.and they won't throw it away and they won't spit on its all going to hell.its all motherfucking going to hell.im going out with my friend tomorrow. hopefully i get some inspiration. and also... hopefully, if i do tohe test. i discover that....its not positive.hell no. :'(