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YINLING ♥ | | Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Reeds driftin' on by You know how I feel It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good |
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CHATTERBOX
DECLARATIONS
WISHFUL
RUNAWAY
REWIND
CREDITS
Desiger/edited by: MilkshakeeeBasecode: doughnutcrazy Music: LALALA! Icon: Picture Cbox: Tag |
raggedy muse
4:32 PM Me took a pink slip home this morning. Horrible first-day cramps and diahorreaaaaaaaa, has rendered me moaning on the bed, curled up in a featal position, in honest discomfort for the past few hours, trying without much success to read Oscar Wilde's A Picture of Dorian Grey (hey i have read about half!), and ended up falling asleep with 2 bottles of Bao Zai Yun, 2 charcoal pills and Panadol menstrual in my system. And now I'm feeling a whole lot better and still have Econs essay and DEP homework to do. Gah. Here are overdue pics which technology which abhors me haven't permitted to upload all these days. Alas, technology still abhors me.  'Muse' AC Band Concert  West Side! The SRT Light Boxraggedy muse
8:31 PM  Been a long while since I last sat on a old open-air bus.With that rickety bumpy-ness of the bus moving on its seemingly not perfectly circular wheels, feeling that rhythmic whirring under your feet, the bustle of its movement causing a surrounding whir, loud yet soothing, enough to mask some random humming. The hot yet oddly cooling blow of the constant wind created by the forward motion of this contraption, not doubt bringing along some dust and grime. A great time to think, for its useless to listen to the mp3 player,the loud whir totally masks any music trying to squirm itself into one's ear drums. And then one realises, how certain images, actions, places, emotions of a certain time, perhaps quite a while a ago, seem so perfectly vivid and clear, so pristine to the point where you can recall the intricate moment of emotion associated. And I wonder, what does this tell me. Perhaps its the same for everyone, these certain memories never seem to wash away. Perhaps I'm just overly romanticising everything. And yet, I made absolutely no conscious effort to commit these moments to memory. Maybe, its purely because its that significant to me. Even now. Perhaps I don't want to ever forget. Perhaps I don't want to ever let go. And I wonder, what will happen, when even the notion, the escapist thoughts, the wishful figments of my imagination, this romanticising, are all dashed, and smashed. That even this un-real source of comfort, of hope, of emotion, is deemed untrue and not longer valid. What else shall be emptied of me. What else shall cause that uncontrollable spasm of loss and sadness at times when I am reminded. What else shall cause my heart to sink to the depths, which it has reached before. I dare not phantom. But it will be an inevitable passing, for these comforts will never come into existence. And the only way it will go, is into oblivion. These threads that I am entwined in, have never been torn apart thoroughly, ever since I first unwittingly stepped upon them. They have only since amassed growth, and remained stagnant. I bear not to see them ripped from me. I need help, I need to acquire some good sense. I need you. But you are never coming back. I need you. Find me soon. Let me find you soon. I love you. I hate you. I love, the notion of your existence. I hate, the mere suggestion of your existence. I love myself. I hate myself for loving and hating you. I love myself. I ache. And I am thoroughly useless with utterly nothing I can do about it. And beneath the loud whir of the moving contraption, I hum an emo tune. |
HIT ME.
