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| You may not even remember,
but it was this one night
you brushed the hair out of my eyes & that was when I fell in love with you. | | |
| ..The world and all the sorrow at the heart of everything. But still it stays, the butterflies sings and opens purple summer with a flutter of its wings. I am truly happy at this moment...but yet.. there's still things left unsettled. "For me, how people try to make me feel.. to hurt me, is worth going through because of how you make me feel everyday." You are right, the bitching and complaining from those who don't matter, just don't matter. Why should I constantly take the verbal abuse from those who pretend to care about me? Why pretend to be understanding, when the truth is, you've never been okay with it? Its far less productive and far more frustrating. I hate how you make feel about this. You guilt me into thinking I am doing something wrong, when really, finally I am doing something right. It isn't one of my reckless drunken messes that I've had to clean up. He cares about me. He makes me smile, so why can't you understand that? Why can't you just be happy for me? Is it really too hard for you? I struggle to understand you and be there for you, but at the same time, you push me away. What is there left for me to do? I don't know why I strive for your approval.. I suppose its because I still want to believe we can be the same before this whole ordeal started. Nothing has changed. He's still the same person and so am I. I know you'll never read this, and maybe I'm too chicken to let you know.. or maybe I've just given up. I'm not pushing you out, you're walking out yourself. Love, I care about you, and sometimes I wonder why because you don't always seem to return the favor. I wish you would just..let it go. | | |
| -If only I knew..
-Then whats the use of looking? I want to find someone who will hold my hand, and won't let go first. Someone who will kiss me when I'm not looking. Someone who will lay on my chest just to listen to my heart beat. Someone who will look at me and smile because they see something special. I want someone who will play with my hair, or brush it away because he can't see my eyes. I want someone to tickle me until I can't breathe. Someone who will look at me and know if something's wrong. Someone who will make me smile with just walking through the door. I want someone who I can bring home. I want to understand someone better than they understand themselves. I want someone to understand me better than I understand myself. I want someone who doesn't make me apologize for who I am. I want someone who has dreams and ambitions as strong as I do. I want someone who is romantic and charming. I want someone silly, yet serious. I want him to love my family as much as he loves me. I want him to love my friends. I want him to be my best friend. I want his arms to fit around me perfectly. I want him to have nice eyes, not blue, green or brown, but the intense quality that will captivate me. I want butterflies and goosbumps. I know, I know. I've become a sap.. and strangely I'm okay with that.
So what if I write about the perfect boy.. why not, eh?
More writing to come very soon..
.. to hopefully keep my sanity these days.. one love <3
veruska Started as a flicker meant to be a flame
Skin has gotten thicker but it burns the same
Still a baby in a cradle got to take my first fall
Baby's getting next to nowhere with her back against the wall.
You meant to make me happy make me sad.
Want to make it better better so bad.
But save your resolutions for your never new year
There is only one solution I can see here.
You're all I ever could need
Only one good thing worth trying to be and it's 'Love'. -[[sb]]- | | |
| -Are you dying?
- Light bulbs die, my dear. I will depart.
When you look at me, what do you see?
Really pretty eyes?
No, I mean, do you see… a sparkle?
Right now, like glitter on your face?
No, like ..a sparkle.
What kind of sparkle?
Like something reflective of something bigger that’s trying to get out..
..you know what, never mind.
You know its no so much a sparkle, maybe more of a twinkle,.
Forget it.
A glint?
It’s okay.
You got that thing you do with your hands..
That’s a quirk.
A quirk is not a sparkle?
No... [[Setting all the clocks a minute before 12 clock]]
Mr. M: That’s the last of them.. we have 37 seconds.
M: Great! Well done. Now we wait.
Mr. M: No, we breathe, we pulsate, we regenerate.
Our hearts beat, our minds create, our souls ingest.
Thirty-seven seconds well used, is a lifetime. -When King Lear dies in Act Five do you know what William Shakespeare has written?
He’s written, He Dies.
That's all, nothing more.
No fan fare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words.
The culmination of the most influential work of the dramatic literature is, He Dies.
It takes Shakespeare’s genius to come up with, he dies.
And yet every time I read those two words I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria.
And I know its only natural to be sad,
but not because of the words he dies,
but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
I’ve lived all five of my acts Mahoney and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go.
I’m only asking that you turn the page.
Continue reading. And let the next story begin.
And if anyone ever asks what became of me
you relay my life in all its wander, and end it with a simple, and modest, he died.
-Your life is an occasion...rise to it.
-All stories, even the ones we love, must eventually come to an end
and when they do, it's only an opportunity for another story to begin. <3 veruska | | |
| April 22, 2008
Professor McMillan
Journals “ Sophie Lancaster” When my roommate first told me about this article, I was completely appalled. I think my reaction may have been a bit different learning it from someone else, but because Addie is gothic as well, it triggered a much stronger feeling. Trying to imagine something as terrible as this happening to her, was far too awful to think about. It is too naïve of me to believe that hate crimes such as these are in the past. Things have happened, movements in history have forced us to see the truth, but nothing has changed. Problems weren’t solved, they were given a different mask. Racism is no longer as much as problem as it use to be, segregation is buried, but discrimination still exists. We have branched from race or ethnicity, to something as silly as how someone dresses. This unknowing girl, Sophie Lancaster, was living her life how she believed she should live it. Who are these teenagers to say that wearing what she was wearing, or how she looked should make her a punching bag. She had the opportunity to run, but she didn’t. She stayed and held her unconscious boyfriend, and subjected her self to a beating as well. The fact that she was a human being, a young girl, with unknown potential, did not cross the minds of these young boys. They feel no remorse, and still believe in the humor of it. As if they did a service to the world, of removing “one of them”. It had never occurred to them, that the kind of people we should be getting rid of, or changing, is them. <3 | | |
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