April 2010
I keep trying to convince myself I don’t love you. And I finally have. You make my heart beat like it’s trying to make a point, my mind rewinds our conversations endlessly, my feet point to you, no matter where you are standing, my ears can recognise your voice out of a crowd, but you know what? It isn’t love. It is something similar that probably rhymes, has the same number of...
Regalos de diseño originales y divertidos.... →
How awesome is this??? Me wanty. Now, just how much does it cost…..??
Wow. Okay.
So, someone, anyone, tell me something. Does anyone else say things aloud when they remember something that they regretted doing?
For example, you remember that time when you kissed someone you shouldn’t have, so you say something aloud, either related or not, just in order to take your mind off it for a second. Does that make sense? Do other people do this?
Happily ever after →
I just really like this image.
Things that make me smile: Coming home to find a personal piece of mail. Talking to a friend about something ridiculous and feeling as if they aren’t judging you at all. Getting a new book and peeling the price tag off. The day when I realise, finally, my period is over. Telling someone a personal preference, eg I hate green apples and they remembering it. getting photos back from the...
“I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just going to ask them where they’re goin’,...”
– Mitch Hedberg (via quote-book)
You know what? As a side statement, I have decided that it is fiscally irresponsible for me to be anything other than a lightweight. Bloody metabolism.
Why should I care, when you do naught but doubt? I am doubting my caring, due to your doubting. Or I am caring for your doubting less and less.
Dreams of pure white make me wake up screaming. Words that mean nothing and yet the world, to no one and maybe for someone. But in the end, what does it matter?
Nietzsche wrote prior to the internet. Now you look into the abyss and the abyss is far too...
As The Poems Go
istanton:
as the poems go into the thousands you realize that you’ve created very little.
- Charles Bukowski
I Met A Genius by Bukowski
istanton:
I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train ran down along the coast we came to the ocean and then he looked at me and said, it’s not pretty. it was the first time I’d realized that.
So, if I am doing a communication course, going on facebook during tutes is extra work isn’t it?
Exploring the medium of internet communication, one thinks.
I dried my hair on a motorbike today. 80 km an hour in a 60km area results in pretty dry hair.
Why is it that guilty songs sometimes are so much more “happymaking” than actual good songs? Is it the guilty factor? Like an affair on your musical tastes?
“Is talking to me the verbal equivalent of an acid trip while reading the Webster...”
