Just got my Alice in Wonderland nail polish by OPI. and i so love it! all i need to do is wait for the movie to come out and im “aliced” out! My favorite so far is the “Mad as a Hatter” shade.
Posted February 27, 2010 at 7:55pm
CADBURY CREME EGGS
a rich chocolate egg “shell” with a creamy white and yellow glaze inside that mimics a real egg.
Posted February 1, 2010 at 9:34pm
NEW YORK.
(via hellonewyork)
SOMEDAY by Hira
SOMEDAY i will be here where the LIGHTS NEVER DIM.
where the YELLOW CABS are the ornament
and the scent of the BUSTLING CITY is its perfume.
the EXPRESSIONS of people is its face.
SOMEDAY, SOMEHOW i will go here.
THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH DOING THE WRONG THING…
JUST AS LONG AS YOU DO THE WRONG THING
RIGHT…
Posted December 12, 2009 at 12:42am
Empty spaces.
when the nights seems like forever, and everything seems to have vanished leaving empty spaces on your mind. Nothing seems to stay, not even you or your thoughts or your feelings. everything and everyone is expendable. i miss the things that is not there and the things that were supposed to be there. nothing feels right, nothing is what supposed to have been. there are just empty spaces…
Posted November 20, 2009 at 4:40am
The Storyteller.
The Storyteller. a composition of a lie.
“You open your mouth, and people believe that stench of rotten flesh and garbage is of that of a sweet smelling rose. They open their eyes and see beautiful flowers and trees that bares juices so sweet, yet they dont see the carcases rotting under those soil.”
“Why act with truth if everybody lies?”
Because truth is the fundamental bedrock of faith. Our faith of the truth in knowing the unknown and unperceivable.
The most hypnotizing aspect of truth is not its basis in Faith, but its unfathomable dexterity to bring out Faith in others. I mean you drag in Faith in the beginning and guarante the Truth in the end, and theres more faith in the truth than any other tangible thing. We are all stringed puppets of other Storytellers, but that is the only way our existance in the future could be affirmed.
With all that in mind, i was never a devotee, i was altogether aware of the “story”. A fabricated stories of adventures that was never had, the feelings that was never there. A story that has all the confidence of a good fairy tale book, but just like a fairy tale, non of the realities.But in this story of yours, all was accomplished, Everything was admirable. You keep telling the “Story” long enough, you will eventually believe its the Truth.
Isnt disturbing when a person tell a “story” yet you know the reality of it? That there was no prince charming, no happily ever after and there was clearly no seven dwarves but that she was the witch and she made the pestilential apple. But in her elaborate story, shes the princess, the most benevolent saint of saints. Should the witch be exploited or should i spare the rod and spoil the child as she already is,let all her acquaintances, buddy and chum be hypnotized, captivated, to be hoodwinked by this witch.
The truth is so rare in this concocted world that a truthful person seems to be in the myths with the Gods. We tell fraudulent stories when we are in fear… the fear of the things we dont know, the fear of what others will think, fear of what can be discoverd about our true character. A lie isnt a lie if no one, not even one knows the truth. because lies are accompanied by fear, the fear of being divulged. Why do you think the yakuzas, the mafias, the illegals annihilate people who knows too much. That is the only way your lie will eventually become the truth; if you extinguish all that who holds the key to your downfall.
So the witch is still alive, the princess and prince are drowned, the wolf is in sheeps clothing, the beauty will never fall in-love with the beast, theres no flying carpet, a nonexistence of a blue-popping-genie, the fish will never be a girl, and the knowlegeables are silenced. So we could live in this “perfect”, “untarnished”, “utopian” world.
Posted November 16, 2009 at 12:36am
this is soo true. how i wish i could go back to my childhood, when everything was so simple and were so innocent.
Posted November 15, 2009 at 4:01am
He.
He knew me better than most of my friends, We never really who we are with our friends, except to the choosen ones. The ones that we know will accept our fault and flaws with an open mind. The one that will cry with us just because we’re hurting and laugh with us just because of our mere laughter. Its rare to find friends like these. and this one is special…
He buys me coffee. He pays for my taxi trips. He thought me how to write. He praised my drawings. He scolded me. He thought me the what and the hows of Love. He knew me in my most vulnerable moments. He hands me a hankerchief to wipe my tears of past boyfriends. He celebrated with me. He cried with me. He laughed with me. And the most important of all… He thought me how to value life.
How to value a simple time with a friend having some coffee. And now…
As I was reading tha mail, that his friend sent me. telling me he was dying, i was hurt. How could he not tell me? How could he have not mention this in anyway? I was frustrated. Then it hit me…
Staring blankly at the computer, i felt nothing. The pain was too much that it cant be accepted. It mustnt be true. Until i hear it from his mouth, see it from his eyes. i refuse to believe. i dont want to, i cant bare the thought of him gone. I cant bare not being able to have that coffee, that laughter with anyone else but him not even my husband. Its just different, i could not have coffee with anyone else and have the same entertainment and level of meaning other than him.
He is a friend. A friend i dont want to ever lose.
