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#05 revisiting this place with a heavy heart.

Jan. 12th, 2013 | 11:00 pm

Calamity at it's finest, if I do say so myself.

I can't decide what I will dwell this title to, or the 'ode to this post' so to speak.  I'm bruised these days to articulate the passion in my words, like, my voice - my inner quizzical voice that used to summon these beautiful poetic words, these sighs and illustrious worlds I used to invent with the muscle of my mind.  I never felt sane, but combing these words into these delicious poetic clouds makes me disheartened as nothing used to feel like it was before.

I need to breathe.  Understand.  Revisit.

Cultured and embedded to take care of others over myself has become a tiring habit, so to speak.  I enjoyed the - how can I say this mysteries hat I indulged in from the depths of my imagination.  The place that nobody could rattle or disturb.  That tranquillity that I could summon.

When it comes to the topic of imagination - I think one should never lose their articulation of their mind.  it is such a delicious gift you can not risk to bruise, as psychological bruising is one that is incurable.

Livejournal, please take me back.

Take me back.

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#04. Outdated cliched study patterns

Nov. 25th, 2010 | 03:09 am
mood: studious
music: Why Georgia - John Mayer

So I feel kind of embarassed that the only time I remember my LiveJournal is the time where I have to regurgitate bull because I've summoned up too much knowledge that my noggin is going to self-destruct in t minus... 231, 230, 229...

Okay, we have a while.  I can write this.

Alright, so my finals may be coming to a conclusive halt for the semester.  I'll be finishing for the year, hopefully not to terribly and I'll be able to scrape up my GPA next year with doing less study units.  I had a solid 4, but now I feel like my performance has totaled a 2.5 (which is beyond low for me).  I'm heck ambitious and lurking around the Dean's site, glaring at the flashy cherry coloured prase "HONOURS" with googly orbs.  Fuck yeah I wish to be considered for this, it'd be such a privilege to attain such a platform and I'm dedicated to work hard for it.

Let's hope that I get qualified, but first, I wish to nail this exam tomorrow.

Wish me luck all the while, kids.  I need it.

Peace & Luvo xoxox

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#03. "I would go through all this pain, take a bullet straight through my brain..."

Nov. 20th, 2010 | 09:56 am
mood: broken-hearted
music: "Grenade" - Bruno Mars

 Ode to Bruno Mars for the title.

Today when I witnessed the release of his fantastic masterpiece "Grenade", a lot of realisations had sprung up.  They tore their way through poorly patched up wounds that finally were cut through.  I find myself losing myself & being mesmerised heavily when I hear this song, JUST after watching the video.  The protagonist in this video, they carry this heavy ass piano to this one person that they care about the most... only to realise that they're only playing the person they're in love with.  Basically, they're carrying their love to do the ONLY thing they care about... he struggles... gets abused on the way... gets watched... gets hurt.... but he doesn't care, he believes that he only loves her and he would die for her.

That protagonist, that person in that video... the piano dragger, that's me.  I've been dragging this fuckin' piano for six months over a guy that I'd catch several grenades for, a guy that I'd suicide for any day and at any time for... but he'd never do anything of the sort for him.  His hands and feelings are subconsciously folded in in my fingers and I've tucked them safely away into the very depths of my emotional memories that I've had of him.  When he was uncalled for territory, I pushed him away from every part of my body and moved on... but he just came back for me.

And oh, he's taken.

Why do men like to torture souls like us? Why do they like good girls to turn bad? Do they want to torment us and make sure that we all fuck up our perfectly normal/sweet minds?  

What I don't understand about this man (I'm sorry, he's not a man - he's a boy).  I would go through such inhumane lengths to prove to this man I'm in love with his superhuman ways of making me feel so perfect - I guess all women and girls would say such things about all men that they love.  I pack his lunch sometimes, when we play piano together we share the same stool, when I forget things in classrooms he picks them up and packs them away, I carry his guitar around everywhere when he needs extra hands, he literally 'keeps' onto me like I'm his special 'thing' or 'friend'.

But what's the worst is that he 'gets inside my headspace'.  He knows when I lie, when I'm saying the truth, he knows all my body like it's readable.  NO ONE can read me very well, but I don't know how he does it... it's so retarded.

And now, I've had enough.  I want no one's sympathy or empathy for me in any situtation... I want no one to feel sorry for me.  I just want prayers that he moves away from me.  I'm getting hurt, I'm getting REALLY hurt with the ways that he torments with his 'friendly love'.  All these rumors, all these people saying things about us.. far out I don't blame them for their assumptions because they're very valid with everything that they say.  I'm sick and tired of being put in this situation, I do not deserve this shit... really do not deserve to be faced with this emotional shit right now.

I'm gonna blast "Grenade" for a few more hours, subconsciously visit the bathroom and hurl the loofah at the mirror and take a page out of one of those typical films and grasp the bathroom vanity and cry my eyes out with anguish.

Till then, I'm out.

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#02. Living off mars bars wrappers & leftover scraps of the love you've left with me.

Nov. 19th, 2010 | 01:03 am
mood: sleepysleepy
music: Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars

So, I've polished off this exam with great bitterness.

Being a woman, today I'd never though that I'd want to physically hurl the shopping cart at my mother's face, because today that woman just exceeded all physical barriers to drive me absolutely mad.  I went so mad that I was trolling around the bags store, singing "Jizz In My Pants" out loud to this kid who was gawking at me with these devilishly immaculate green eyes... and the worst part was, that I attained no shame in it.  I was humping a trolley cart (non-sexually may I add - but it still sounds horrible nevertheless) across this warehouse engrossed with oversized handbags for troll women.  I don't get why some can be indecisive.

Although, I personally am a bit of a troll in deciding as well... I really shouldn't be talking.

But we spent one and a half hours flat, searching for a bag.  And oh yes, we left with nothing.  Typical.

Alas though, we finally completed the lethargic shopping trip because a bunch of ungrateful visitors have decided to invite themselves over to visit some family friends, and as culture/tradition we have to select a good gift as a personal souvenir to take back with them.  Silly tradition seeing as we don't even know the person, so buying a 'neutral' gift is one of the hardest things humanely possible... also, 95% of the time, the visitors never take back the gifts we offer them, making this shopping trip a waste & the culmination of all these events irritating to the average human mind.

I have been out of my house for 14 hours today, of course I'll be sadly hammering my anguish at everything around me because I lack sleep and I guess it's only my fault that I'm not sleeping further.  

My diet at the moment has been consisting of iced water & tiny packaged fun-sized Mars bars.  I am indefinitely camping out in the very lone walls of my bedroom as my eyelids are drooping in slowly for a sleeping session.  Alright, I think I shall go to bed now guys, I'm sounding a but distorted now.

Take care.

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#01. Thirsty eyes & a lethargic first post.

Nov. 18th, 2010 | 01:04 am
mood: lethargiclethargic

 I suppose that this isn't an ideal time to post up an introduction.  

But then again, my efforts to procrastinate have escalated rather gigantically that the only way I'll proceed with study is if I get rid of this personal impulse of posting my first entry.

With only mere minutes left approaching my second university yearly exam, I'm sitting here.  Posting my first entry.  Thinking of something rather exciting to enlighten you all about me, or what my purposeful aim is to be creating a journal.  But really, there is nothing that I manifest to with creating this pointless waste of space.  I just (like every college/university student) need a reason to post bullshit because I frankly am sick and tired of studying the concept of children and self regulation.  

I can feel my brain cells being fried.  No seriously, they are being grilled and there is no mercy whatsoever.

And as I've just mentally recapped all that I've written here, you may all classify me as some masochist hipster child that's writing a rather sarcastical entry because I have nothing better to do with my life.  I guess the second part is partially true, with the way that I'm writing now, I don't blame anyone for any crude classification... I'm not really giving off a very frivolous introduction.

I apologise sincerely for the inconvenience.  I feel like I am possibly taking out my inner education frustration on you all when I should be focusing more aptly on the test for tomorrow.

Maybe I should bounce? I think so.

Take care.

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