Gotta' let me go

I had it all planned out... this was gonna' be a long post. Filled with pictures and photos... lot's of hearts and love.

Then something showed up: she did.

The stress I feel before a paper, before a big night, before a show... it can't compare the stress I get from just being around her.

She keeps stopping me.

I can't keep working hard and chasing dreams when all I get in return from her are crude paranoia and... conditions. She can't condition me into doing things her way.... Her way is hers. It's not freaking mine.

Why can't she see I'm worth more than this?

Criticise me all you want... it'll be secondary to hers. I can do sooo much more... but she won't let me go.

3 Days to Live

Day One~

Write an absolutely incredible (beautiful) love story to my mother, grandmother and a group of my friends. Bake a larger-than-life size (white) cake and smear it on the faces of my dears. Carry a bag of pictures/love notes/paper hearts made by them everywhere i go. Leave my house and pass the key to my best friend. Entrust her with my password to my emails, fb (if activated), blog, livejournals etc. Kiss my baby niece goodbye. Sketch a drawing of my small family. Use up a box of tissue for crying (hard).

Day Two~

Track down old friends whom i can't put a name to the face to and call 'em up. Buy a white kitten and send it to someone's house (to take care of it for me when i'm gone). Sell part of my books. Ask my friends out and talk to 'em (cuz' i dun wanna waste another moment saying things we're never meant to say). Scream at my parents. Paint a section of my bedroom wall. Quote something there that's orginally and undeniably mine. Tear a bit. Sing an aria to my music teacher and her best friend. Give out all my university savings to my mother and to the hospital(s). Throw away all of my make up and accesories. Put on jeans and a white t-shirt. Sit on a park bench for 6 hours straight. Stop eating.

Day Three~

Write letters to as many people as i can. Compose a song with 2 verses. Get a tattoo on my back. Prepare a final speech. Go to church for confession. Pray. Visit my primary and secondary school. Read stories to toddlers. Carry a baby like how a mother would. Pinch my cheeks 'till it's red and sore. Smile insufferably. Dream a little dream. Burn my computer. Lie on the beach to catch the sunset. Run to lakeside. Tell my best guy-friend that I loved him. Sit beneath a decayed tree and wish that they'd find me. Pray. Cradle a baby bird.

And watch it fly.

idiots

Act One

girl/boy 1: Hey! Wazzup?

girl 2: Hey...

girl/boy 1: What's wrong sweetie?

girl 2: Nah... It's nothing.

girl/boy 1: You're making that face!

girl 2: What face?

girl/boy 1: You know... the face?

girl 2: What the heck are you talking about?

girl/boy 1: When you do that-

girl 2: So how did your date go last night?

girl/boy 1: Well... (beams) We kinda...

...

... ...

... ... ...

Moral3 of the Story: People are selfish. Ask 'em something 'bout themselves & they cannot resist talking 'bout it.

thatwayyougetawaywitheverything.

mental break-me-down

LOUD AND PROUD

i can do more. i can do so much more. i'm gonna' keep my hair down and my nails cut... i've got purple eyeliner and it looks hella' good with black... i've got the reddest red-ass sheets that's bound to keep you in place... i'm gonna head down to some club with no shoes and piss-off every-fucking-body who crosses me. i can't wait to dip my hand in GOLD paint and do the moon dance. there is a pink dot that's waiting to be erased. i can say fuck all i want. fuck this. fuck that. you say i'm different. i say i'm raw. no party girl can knock me up. i can't think of another better night to spend with you. i've got ppl to meet and backs to shave. i'm not gonna take your fucking sass.

IS THIS HOW YOU WANT ME TO ACT!?!?!?!?!?


and when i'm ready i'll you my story.


YOU'RE NOT GONNA FUCKING RECOGNISE ME THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE ME!

i believe that love exists but it only lasts for a limited time.