The Christmas Preamble

We haven't had the joy of a proper, buried in snow winter, but Brussel's details make it well worth it eitherways. Here is a way to picture what its like for me walking from my apartment to any destination.

I close the aged wooden door to the building moments before dawn. Electronic Clack. Its cold out, but not deadly. The little roundabout bordering the corner of the apartment and the shut Iranian grocers are reminiscent, of a night-time Amelie moment. Walking to the park its all tall trees with icy tips and writing inspirations on frost covered cars. Shit! someone just saw me vandalising! Run round the corner. Cross the street to the park. Trees shake delicately to give me the impression its feebly snowing around me. The angst ridden gray sky is being pushed away by a blue blue sky. Hop on the metro. Hop off. Slip sliding to my destination. Its the Saturday before Christmas at dawn. Shh quiet shh. A car skates past without a word. I have the whole Brussels to myself. The air suddenly feels fresher 'cause no ones breathing it at the same time. The bridge over metro train with walls too high to see the city. Jump, jump, and dawn graces me with its bright pastels. More slip sliding and dreaming away about Christmas.

Ieva

What the hell?

Yasmin

Lebanon

The remaining skeletons of the buildings stand withering, in the eastern sunlight.
The blue sky of many summers scratches away at what remains.
There is no help, there is only a numb version of hope that weighs down senselessly.
A land of unctuous honey and cedar is forced to give up its honest tears
Fictional beliefs create invisible but strong walls to divide love.
A clueless bystander musters a well of empathy, that only looks like a grain of salt.
It serves as a channel for more who have few clues of their own.

So you feel bad. But what are you Really going to do about it?

And on the homefront we are still fighting about money.

A long day and a gust of wind.

Man I love belgium...
If I want to get the new Simpsons Video game in English, i have to go to the north of the country where they speak dutch. And no, I cannot get it in Brussels, which is technically supposed to be bilingual.

Yesterday i walked home from an exhausting day romping around town. It started off with a french class, where the teacher insists that I read aloud for about 2 hours of the 3 hour long class. This inevitably goes wrong because as the class starts at 9:15, I have had to wake up at 8:00 and therefore had a lot less sleep than I usually get with my 10:30 lie ins. In other words I missread every second sentence because I'm half asleep, and of course this means she's correcting me every other sentence as well. But I am to tired to care, so I sludge on through unending french tongue twistery words, and make it to the end of a tiresome written for textbook essay on "Mondialisation".
Then i decided to go shopping, this is a less fun than it sounds, as headache and stomach ache settle in together. Nonetheless I buy two interesting books "Puplum" by Amelie Nothomb and A guide to tractors in Ukrainian by some Ukranian Author.
Then I have illustration class, which always gets me very inspired for the hours after but sadly not lasting till the next week. She critiques my drawings somewhat too harshly, notes my nearly bursting out to tears face, and in a very round about way, with lots of a fancy french words tells me to suck it in.
So yes after this day of 12 hours of standing, walking, consuming and learning i trudge back to my dorm. Suddenly though there is this extraordinary gust of wind that blows through the late autumn sky. Its already 6 and its already very dark but something about this win that blows through the half naked trees, something about the exact temperature hitting my nose at the right angle, reminded me of a moment. A moment from my youth, maybe early teens. Something romantic about it, something enchanting and it made me happy and sad.
It was wonderfull.

Me Now :)

Facebook Fun

La la la laaa la la *sleeping beauty song* la la la laaa la laa lAaaaaA

*twirls onto stage dancing with an imaginary person, and waltzes right between the absurdism, around the 'your face joke' and sweeps off stage*


!

Ahhhhhh!?

What is up with all these celebrities going haywire?
I never used to read celebrity news, but for some reason in the past 6 months, it seems like to me, and it may just be coincidence, that famous people are getting more and more desperate. Like there is this peak in immorality that has to be reached before a whole string of them namely Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, Angelina Jolie and Paris Hilton will either die or kill someone. It will most probably be accidental too, to make it even more stupid.
I shouldn't be bothered with these people. They could be fictional creations of media for all i know, but they represent a growing trend in the decline of interest in taking care of oneself and one's relationships with people. Like possessions, people seem to be easily thrown away. Its a hard thing to fight as well, for some odd reason. Its like when you don't have anything to left to gain in life you don't have anything to live for either. So you're immortal in your nothingness. You're already dead. You're a ghost of your true self. I suppose there is the concrete human side of us that lives only a degree higher than an animal, in a robot kind of way and then the elevated mysterious side that behaves in ways one could call spiritual. Celebrities are robots. They know nothing of the earth. And when they say they do, they are fucked over by the pride or the vanity injected into them daily.

Piano

When I hear classical music sometimes it reminds me of having played that piece. It reminds me of evenings in our beautiful grandiose old house in Veyrier. Cold winter evenings where all was dark and the vaste antique rooms stretched out their history in crisp clarity. Where the crackling fire danced along with every Chopin Waltz. Turning in melancholic certitude. Des heures et des heures que j'ai passe devant la television, non a la regarder, mais a penser de cette chanson.
Et puis le passage majeur, on danse tres gaie, lalalala rien ne va de mauvais, et puis OUPS on va peut-etre tomber. Nooon! Tout va treees bien. Miineeeeur tu doit pleurer petite fille sinon le mechant ours va te manger. Tout cru. petite mineur tout cru.

Oh No! Where did she go??

For all of you attentive readers who have been checking day in day out what has become of Sarah, well the truth is, I am for the next month probably not going to be writing much here as it is Horrorthon month. Meaning I watch lots of horror movies and write about them over at the Horrorthon Blog. It is quite an exciting undertaking as I have probably watched 3 horror movies in my life. But as all challanges, I shall face it head first and then freak out a little and run away in tears.

SO ... good things to come ladies and gents!

Drawing Time! and Scary Adult Stuff

I will draw.
A lot.

Also, interesting revelation, when people say you have an "old soul", its not some cosmic "inherited old person soul" thing... It just means you saw some ugly adult stuff when you were young, and you know what vulnerability really means. Its a strange graph, let me illustrate it:
The above assumes that you get the right amount of help, and are intelligent and lucky enough to be self aware of your issues.

Official favourite Simpsons Quote

After having seen a sentimental story on the TV about the ducks having gone south.

Homer: Maaaarge can I have a duck?
Marge: No you already have a monkey!

Homer points to his newly acquired helper monkey

Homer: Can the monkey have a duck???
Marge: Noooo!

Monkey "Mojo" eats a slice of pizza and smashes the pizza box multiple times on the couch.

Sheila by Jamie-T

She noticed things everywhere. On a roll roll rolling. Chicka chick chicka chaa

Singing to a song sing song singing
Spleen!

Twice as nice isn't it thrice?
So too bad for you you don't have gotten it going for your gone ass gohnaa
She she she gets it over her power trip
Go go going gone.
Slow tow in the sea side dock, click clock going tick tock.
Sweet treat for treacle pinnacle.
Cheap cheap going the trip teat.
Slip slide snicker snickerdoodle.
Spoon fed climbing a trying trip tied.
Said sit down to the trip down top tap.
Slide the slocked sid snicker snicker.
Sweet tip toed tried to tipple it topple it rover red rover running ripples of running red river.


She said that its gonna be ok, hey bey don't deny it yay, it said it would come around round too round going like a wheel, don't steal it trip over it again and over and over again. It has a beat
why does it have a beat, treat tickle treacle.
Yes you heard it over and over again, again? yes again and over...no not that shit again. Shit I don't know slip slide it back again shuffle back my way click your eye back at me and then stop so that you die dye die dye die dye die death to the hair.
Sweet
treat

end.

or not?

Shoes

Yes.

I'm stooping this low.

But honestly, I promise some very interesting insights will be made.

The question came up today again, do women assess men by their shoes, and if so why?

I tried to think back to personal experience, and must say I've looked at shoes. I've felt uncomfortable by certain types of shoes. Namely, hiking boots when no hiking was involved, very pointy shoes (I think this goes for both sexes), those thin retro boxer shoes, turtle skin anything,sketchers and overly round caterpilleresque shoes. I must say I've felt uncomfortable around each and everyone of those types of shoes, I've obviously seen past it because I'm not as shallow as you all think I am. But on the whole the more familiar the shoe is to me, the less stressed I will feel when I happen to look below the knee-line.

Why did I do this? I've come up with several hypotheseseses. I consider myself to have insanely good taste in stuff. Having grown up around very high end stuff, having at the same time rolled around in the mud in said high end stuff, I know what is stylish and what is pure crap. This has absolutely nothing to do with price at the end of the day, it has to do with elegance, imagination, a child-like spirit, a level of romance and a kind heart. Yes all those things can go into dress. Now I'm not saying I'm a fashion guru of any sort and I wouldn't possibly be able to predict a next wave of fashion cool. All I know is what I like and what I don't like, and a lot of people have agreed with me in the past. Yes beauty is subjective, but I don't think utter crap is.

EITHER WAY, I think when you look at a guy's shoes and you sigh like phew I can relate to that, that fits in my world or even Whoa I've never felt comfortable with that before but I think I want to try hard to fit it into my world, THEN its a small clue maybe one nth of the gazillion other hormonal and evolutionary things that will tell you the man is a good potential mate.

Notably, my boyfriend has an awesome taste in shoes :)

Aaand that's why we will have millions of babies together.

No I'm not shallow.

Just accepting a little tip my evolutionary familiarity electro waves in my brain has given me.

Aww, how the free ones dream of eternal servitude...*sigh*

In a land where all the looks are hollow. In a placeless place you find me. Puff of smoke, starting out forceful and then bellowing out and swirling thickly backwards yet gracefully sweeping forth its opaque bulbous body.

Sift and sway.

Should we find her working hard behind this cloud? Rushing around a big ball of stress trying to juggle important priorities in her life?

Or find her somewhat disheartened after some bloody elitist belgian illustrators grind their embittered feet into her sensitive artist soul? To then, hardened yet motivated by brutal and traumatic rejecting entrance exam, find her conquering the art world and making her self a household name? Wiiiith the help of some sympathetic illustrator woman who is willing to teach a naive girl about the harsh art world? And additionally of course having to get some art-institution job on the side so that the real world does actually start to sink for the first time in 21 years? Finally of course for some reason, as a promise to dearest Daddy, send her 3 useless transcripts to some American uni in Europe so that they tell her she couldn't possible graduate anywhere else in under 2 years? Sounds like a marvelous plan as well.

Which one will it be oh gods of inevitability?
A slave to the system or a slave to the everybody else?

Hmmmmmmm...

Life is Fun

Fuuuuuuu (ck)

I made the fucking most aweSOME observaion, whilst "interacting with certain substances" the other day:
WAIT FOR IT (because its fucking REV-O-LUTE-ZION-ARY)
ok ok ok ok, so right
Theres Cookie Monster right.
From Sesame Street right?
And hes always around all those cookies right?
And when he holds one of these cookies and allegedly eats them,
HE DOESN'T, RIGHT!
He just STUFFS them in his mouth goes CRUNCH CRUNCH
CRUNCH and all those iddy biddy semi invisible cookie crumbles
fly EEEEEEVERYWHERE.
So right, hes called the Cookie Monster, yeah?
But like he doesn't eat cookies!!!
So he should be called like the Nothing Monster...
or...
the anorexic monster...
or something..
you know?

Mikou

Yes, you. You know who you are. Not so silent calm of my life. The echo of many years of figuring things out. An echo with a body, soul and mind. Simple requirements met to the exact proportions. A blurr of perfections and imperfections, many things slide easily, others need adapting. A constant ever changing mass of static electricty, sweeping up the leaves from the ground, driving on the pavements and kissing me on a bridge over a still river with trees so tall you'd think Dali had painted them to laugh at reality. A coveted dreamscape literally cramming as much quiet and fresh air into our collective memories. This is where i grew up, and I finally took you there. You, my other, finally saw where it all took place, where all the beauty and monsters of my childhood took hold of my mind.

The charming smile that makes every girl in the room skip a beat, used with full knowledge of the banality of feminine simplicity. Then the layer beyond, an intelligent stronghold, ready to see the world from my strange strange view but then also helping me see why everyone else sees it the "normal" way. Finally, the best part, the coup de grace, the part I'd scoop up in my cupped hands and blow at the whole world so that they'd experience even a fraction of the happiness. The soul, the entity, the core, just...basically...you. You who sees my child and skips along with it. You who sees my broken mirror and traces the cracks so gently so that they seem less and less important. You who lets me whispers quietly in french amongst the rose smoke. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime. A greek deity among the commoners, a polish sweetheart amongst the bourgeous belgians and a single note of clarity amongst the confused looks.
Yes, you.

Why does this gives me goosebumps?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbL9vr4Q2LU

They go from looking like mother earth to looking like skeletons...why??

Happy little lives.

So there is art.
Lets focus in on the fine arts.
So theres the fine art paintings and drawings that we see in our everyday typical museum. The great masters of the past. Lets focus in on those that were existant before the 20th century. Their sense of great art was this ultimate focus on detail and perfection. From the greeks idealistic marble gods to 17th century dutch attention to the minutae of every shift of pastoral light.
So thats aesthetics...back then.
Then BAM world gets more automated and disillusioned. Less things are put in question. In comes modernism and post-modernism.
But people still go to museums and consider the perfection and scrupulous visual dissection as superior art. People with a less imaginative/creative brain, consider a copy paste replica of a particular landscape or still life as the epitome of this thing called 'art'. They say ohh thats nice, it fits neatly in their visual vocabulary and they can get back to their happy little lives.
But then there are those who have seen the world differently, and have accepted that these different views of the world can all live harmoniously. They have not rejected the gruesome and murky, the blinding joys, the tearful dawns. They have mentally chewed all of them up and spat them out either personally or have found their resultant mastications in someone else's work.

Those with a more close minded view on emotions and the abundance of life, have chosen to appreciate the machines in us, the powerhouse that is our brains, to be able to duplicate the world we are in. The rest of us have chosen to question this machine and respond to it as more of an infinite galaxy of possibilites than a mere tool.


And what of art that doesn't speak to most of us?
What do we do of that?
What of art that the majority of the population would deem quite ugly?
Do we dismiss these as unaesthetic rejects, and therefore inadmissable in our visual vocabulary?
What to do with those pieces that have taken hours to create and have painstakingly tried to bring forth a message but still make our hearts hurt in disgust more than anything else?
Is this still art?
Or does the creator have to consider the viewer's susceptabilty to a given number of aesthetic and somewhat mathematical rules?
I don't know yet.
For once this post has no clear answers.
Its a musing that has one upped itself into a 'confusing'.

Flirt

See, some of you might call me flirtacious. I consider myself more, visually active. With a certain sense of confidence (which I have none of) comes a level of understanding that the whole world, though you are very sure it does, actually does not revolve around you. I am at that stage where I need to find confidence in things that do not recquire my ability to just stand there and look pretty. I do that somewhat with my questionable sense of humor, and that at times makes me feel like a goddess, especially when people laugh.

Flirting are the moments of lurid sex without the actual sex. I believe I no longer actively persue these levels of erotica. I merely passively do things which i consider fun, and others consider a turn on. Say for example dying my hair magenta. Most people would consider that just a fun thing to do, somewhat risque but mostly not a harmful thing. The more traditional might consider it playing with men's fantasy's. But if we live in a world where a person can't even reflect their own jubilation about life in their outward appearance than what difference does this world make us from the book 1984?

About the Simpsons Movie

Sarah zegt:
and usually when i'm at the cinema i have time to look at my icecream when i'm eating it
Sarah zegt:
but this time i literally had to like drink my icecream because i didn't want to miss a single joke!

YAY

I finally have a ps2! Like all the good things in my life, it took me like 4 years to finally build up the courage to do it.

Now, for a geeky video game post. Games I absolutely MUST get in the near future for this gem of a console. And, btw, for some reason i have a Suuuuper small version of the console with the CD part of it sort of pops up like instead of rolling out like in a desktop computer.You know.

Games:

(check) burnout 3
Super fast driving and crashing. Pure adrenaline rush kind of game. Though it will get boring after 5 seconds its WORTH those 5 seconds DAMNIT

kingdom hearts + kingdom hearts 2
Who wouldn't love the combination of Final Fantasy style characters with Disney character IN Disney worlds??

katamari damacy
Version not sold in Europe, so i don't really know how to get it to work on the console but I SHALL prevail!

(check) metal gear solid 2
stealth-style video gaming, where the point isn't to shoot mercilessly at every bad guy that comes in your wake. Instead, you strategically use your surroundings to get what you want and get the hell out of there.

(check) okami
You're this wolf and you have to save the towns people from the forces of evil. But you have really cool nature and calligraphy based powers. Very beautiful surroundings too, as if you were playing within a japanese calligraphy drawing.

prince of persia sands of time
Not entirely sure about the plot line but, you're in the middle east back in the times of yore and you do TONS of cool stuff :)

viewtiful joe
Typical side scroller game, YET theres tons of cool powers to gain, like slow motion, which play an integral part of solving the puzzels in the game

Hairstyles I would never dare :( BUT here they are for your eyes only

Just a description. Innocent ramblings.

You look at the tiny computer and you put yourself in my shoes and imagine me typing on my blog.

I sit on a well to do couch and in the middle of a massive living room. Comfortable despite the oft raging spine electrocuting period and the scratching, post-high, throat. Drinking luke-warm apricot/tea flower tea. Listening to really bad 90's alternative songs, that are on the media player radio. Waiting for a movie to download from tv-links, Date Movie, a movie that might very well momentarily entertain me. My "Big Projects" of the near future are all for entertainment purposes. A second-hand PS2, an i-pod, a drawing tablet for my computer, lots and lots of decorative elements for NEW ROOM (I don't know why the fuck it excites me so much, but it just does!). I guess it just means that I'm getting the hell away from the mad house my parents house can be, when my parents actually are at home, which is close to never. Like for example, right now, the only other person in the house is the cleaning lady. Who earlier this morning said hi to me without commenting on my newly dyed magenta hair. She did give me a double take though, like *huh"* with her eyes.

Looking outside the moments in space are all dead. There is no life. There is just slow motion branches and nervous grass. Its contradicting each other while complementing the nature of the laws. Post apocalyptic bliss. A rain that isn't really rain, more of an excuse for the clouds to break prematurely. You know.

"Move Me" by, well, me

I can't tell, but somethng is diiifferent...

Something I wrote when i was 16

How doth the feather glide gently through the black storm clouds, why with as much emotion as is needed.

Simple minded souls send signals to the similar. SMSSS :)

Say no more and the silence will be caught.

These yellow chickens are not mine! Why they are dusters in disguise IMPOSTOR I SAY!!

Then there was kitty...and since nothing amuuuuuuuuuuusing can really be done with that character, kitty just was.

Swiss cheese is too painful to my nose like holes or no holes that cheese stinks.

This my friends... is an apple.

QUACK *in monotone voice*

Its a fucking huge world in YO MAMA's ass *after allll* now sing along kiddies *twitching eye*

Watch not the watch fore it tells the on looker the truth of their death slowly advancing.

Exams are fun, especially wen they are non existant.

Exit carrots with afros doing their 'thang' *du du duuuuuuu*

OH NO!!! ITS GONNA BLINK
*little Japanese people run around in chaotic chaos*
I wondered to myself and then blinked.
It was like, scary dude.

*Poof

Sylvia Plath

So I've been reading the Bell Jar lately. Sylvia Plath, the author, went to Smith College like me and attempted to kill herself while there. Her persona intrigues me because she went through a depression, as I did (do), and she went to the same college I did. I wiki'd her, and when I read about her life, I get notably stressed out. I also find out that the book is some what autobiographical and she talks about killing herself in it. I don't know if I want to finish the book now :) (lobotomised smily)
My subconscience got really curious about her because I then ended up finding pictures of her on the internet, and she looks pretty damn normal...even somewhat relatable. Whatever that means. I suppose, in the midst of all the blinding happiness, the obvious cancer of an contradictory emotional growth gently nudges me day in, day out, reminding me of the piles and piles of sadness that I only ever address when it swells and falls over and splashes all over reality.
I guess in the past days, I have been slapped with a more than natural dose of reality, both emotional and physical, and am therefore not writing airy fairy posts about the flowers and the universe....

Lives in Eternity's Sun rise.

You tiptoed into the gaudy darkness. You took out your paintbrush and you dipped it into a landscape. You painted over the muck and the madness and made it all stretch out until neither of our visions could focus in on its depth anymore.
You held my hand and we ran through the rain like the first people to have discovered rain and we let it rush through us around us inside of us. It stung and it was relentless, but it was necessary. The rain seeped right into the core and fed it until it became a large and throbbing mass. It just did not stop beat beat beating swelling and shrinking.
It was quiet but ever existant. It knew of life. It knew of you and me. Especially of you and me.

Hug me after I've hugged a tree.
Look at me and soften your eyes until I am so calm that I can see each individual molecule of space in between us, curse it for existing and then hand over my mind to you so that you may wrap it in cloth of your soft spirit.

Facial Expressionist

Heres how you know something witty is about to embark from my lips;

slight crease of corners of the mouth to indicate discrete but clearly visible small smile
millimeter raise of the left eyebrow giving the left eye more room to twinkle
nose flaring because it keeps you more steady on the ground in case the laughter/opposition to said wittisism is too strong.
Barely containable laughter behind said discrete smile.

Paris Hilton drew this in Jail, i think that is quite hilarious.

Un Nouveau Necklace!

Hooo boy

Part 2 of Ours and Theirs Psychadelic adventures!

Part 1 of Ours and Theirs Psychadelic Adventures

Bad Belgian Televion

Here is the the low down of what you're missing, if you're not living in Wallonia:
10:30 am Television

1.TF1 or for the kids TFOU: Bad french cartoon with mediocre animation, mouths do not match the voices.
2. France 2 or KD2A: Some American real people TV show where its dubbed in French and a girl is eating fruity pebbles...WHORE
3. France 3 (with no CRAZY different name for kids...how do they Ever think to get any ratings) : Scooby Doo dubbed in French. Voices reminiscent of the last station.
4. Donna : A radio station they decided to put on TV, half of the time semi good music videos, other half you're watching the people who work at the radio station, ie old men yawing and staring off into space.
5. K : Teaching kids to cook! in dutch! a useless skill, in a useless language!
6. Kanaal 1 : Has turned itself into a Museum channel, where you can see museum exhibitions ON TV!!
7. MCM : Rappers singing "This is why I'm Hot (hot hot) This is why This is why This is why *choke dies* I'm Hot (hot hot)"
8.RTB1: Political interviews!!
9. KANAL EINS: German Zoo show!
10. ZDF: Ohh pretty snow.
11. MTV/Nickelodean: Jimmy Neutron ! Yay crap 3D animations Dubbed in an even crappier french language.
12.CNN: Russia is Rising and CNN goes inside to show you the faces of change!
13. Rai Uno: Made for TV movie dubbed in italian. Something that would be shown on Lifetime.
14. BBC 1: Some kid looking for costumes around the house within a time limit. The SUSPENSE!
15. TV5Monde : French Game show, NOT DUBBED!! Teenagers answering suspiciously complicated questions
16. BBC2: Cooking show, some indian dude and a British dude. Multiculturalism + Male cooks = The ultimate Pride
17.RTL TV1: Ooglee Beetie (ugly Betty) advertised on probably the sketchiest of all the channels
18. Canale 5: French dude talking about beautiful gardens, all the statues decorated with shells..something worth watching! Oh wait nevermind, now theres a gay french guy talking about fleurettes and telling his female co host to hush. Oh my god he's so obnoxious. I have to kill him. ( I...can't....stop....watching)
19.La Deux: OHhh documentary about plate tectonics!! (snoore)
20. Scrambled moviies
21. YES WE'RE FINALLY HERE... EURONEWS!!: The weather (l)
22.RTP Internacional: Portugese channel, with a dude talking in French about music.
23.Kids Club: WACKY RACES!!!!...in French
24. An unknown channel with frozen commercial screens and some Kerazy techno music
25.Plug TV: Playing a pretty damn good song; Lilly by AaRon, got to love that piano
26. LibertyTV: god this is so boring i'm not even going to describe it
27.AB3: Infomercials, god thats all that was missing, some excercise machine...
28. The TV Guide Channel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
29. God the fuck if I know...some Political shit thingie
30. Ohh its like Christmas, soo many pretty snowflakes
31. " "
32. " "
33. Woo a dating channel, SMS CINDY ;)


THE END

Brothers and Sisters

Brothers:

Every guy you dated in the past was good for you, but this guy now, is no good! Stay away from him!


Sisters:

Man this girl is really great for you! and the ones you dated in the past were all bitches.

Eggy!!!!

Birthday Dress

Curiosity

A straight guy falls for a butch lesbian girl. Does that make him bisexual? or gay even?

We are building a religion.

writereadwriteread

And now,
I'm writing about reading.
I NEED TO READ.
Because i've written about it, i will do it.
Bye bye!

The little things

I have decided that I'm going to try to follow the recommendation that this book i recently picked up as given. They say that those little moments in life, that stand out, are actually your real life, and people trying to tell you things... so I am going to write them down and periodically post them.Here is a first:

rodrigo: (btw, you spend a lot of time in your room in all your pics...
showoff the pond girl!!... or... any other place )

Inamored with oneself

Chopstix

So here we are again. No babies yet! Was talking to my dearest friend Lilach, and we were both realising how old we were and how babyless we were. Seriously though, we're both about 21 years old, its time to get kicking. Sadly for this particular acquisition you need a male, and neither of us have it at present. We have been trying, but both of us have our own problems. Partly to do with the internationalism, partly religious, partly just bad luck.

And on my part, I have found mr perfect. Truely I have. But he's so perfect, he's not in love with me.

Such is life.

Mon Chat

pissed off...as usual.

War and Peace

No one can take that away from me.

Round, carousel of just two.
Hand in hand they spun each other around and around.
Their faces wooshed and moulded themselves into one big swirl of skin.
Everything around them remained immobile conservative bystanders.
Yet in their little circle it was alive! everything was crazy alive!
She shrieked with pleasure and shouted WOOOO.
He smiled a small smile, his heart smiling wider than what a face could fit.
Their eyes met and light did its own little dance within them.
They were 5 years old, they were 20 somethings, they were wise sages a top a mountain.
No matter what anything said, it was clear that they were going to get married the next day.
They were going to dream inside of each other, one burrowed in the other.
He was going to heal her.
She was going to become strong again.
He was going to conquer the world for her.
She was going to tend to his battle wounds.
They were going to be happy.

I wonder why when I yawn it tastes like iron...like i just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes...ODD

Poppies because you called them lovely

She liked to look around.
Surrounding her were vast stretches of fields.
Bespeckled cows growing up from the ground.
There was so much of the same that it was like an old movie playing on loop.

Click. click click. click.cl -

Monotony broke.
Her gaze fixed on a splutter of color.

Poppies.

Red dashes of delicacy.
Swept up long grass coveted these scarlet paperthin delights.

She leaned forward and carressed her new found friends.
Shyly they yielded to her touch.
Naive and mischievious, at their core they had many dark dark secrets to tell.

The lopsided queens, innocently flamboyant, spoke to her of all they hid.
She listened to the childlike whispers and cupped one of the poppies in her hands.
Her ear pressed against theirs, she responded with motherly concern.

Loved, she sang them the lullaby of the world.
Softly.
Nodding in the wind.

corrected for all you nitpicky spellers :P

Stress

Barefoot, she stepped outside
Into the soft blue and the violent red sun.
Her feet sunk surely as the grass gave way.All was at peace.
Her breath was short.
A daily reminder of what was taking her body hostage.
This captor, an invisible fiend, was visible in many ways.
Her mental and physical obsessions always shone through in minute ticks.
She pushed through the air as the adversary weighed down within her.
"You WILL walk through the garden" her subconscious told the voices within.
Mentally all washed away because she started thinking of a poem, it started with
Barefoot she stepped outside.

alone

I feel so fucking lonely.