Sunday, 11 April 2010
-
Currently
Rocket (Remixes)
By Goldfrapp
see relatedLove is...
A girl asked a guy if he thought she was pretty and he said no. She
asked him if he would want to be with her forever and he said no. She
then asked him if she were to leave would he cry, and once again he
replied with a no. She had heard enough. As she walked away,tears
streaming down her face the boy grabbed her arm and ...said... You're not pretty you're
beautiful. I don't want to be with you forever. I NEED to be with you
forever. And I wouldn't cry if you walked away...I'd die...
I took this out of a chain letter because I thought it was nice.
They say mature love is when you don't want to be with someone because you 'need' it,
but in the end who needs to be mature?
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
-
Currently
Single Ladies
By Beyonce
see relatedMy dog's friend
Monday I got up as usually in a bad mood. My room is too dry and my throat hasn't stopped hurting for a whole 2 weeks. I was a little irritated cause my boyfriend always wants me to get up and then he stays in bed. Anyway I took the dog out for our usual walk in the field in front of my house and there was another dog, medium sized, that started sniffing her. I read his medal it said Billy. So I unleashed my doggie and they started running together! And Evey was never one to give any confidence to strange dogs! It's the first one that she doesn't try to bite...how cool. So I let them play and when I got home boyfriend said with a smile that he was getting worried and saw us from the window. My dog gives us such happiness, and Boyfriend loves it even when Evey tries to steal his place in bed and brings slippers on her pillow to lick them like a fetish. hahahah
Since her tennis ball disappeared she's so clingy, we're only happy that she found a friend!
Tuesday, 09 February 2010
-
I'm so scene...but not emo ahhahahaha
It's not like I have epiphanies all the time. I don't think much of the future, because it damn hurts and it makes me wanna drink myself unconscious. For the ones that think I wouldn't, think again. I don't care about how other people see me, because I'm selfish, confident and I know I'm the fuzz. I'm the girl they all wanna be with for the fun, to party, even for talks. They're amused because I put the scene at the top of my priorities, like it has to be a show all the time. I like theatre so much I used to put on a wig and act like I was someone else all day (usually the retired prostitute mom; I used to fake smoking and drinking and soon all the kids started acting too and the youngest kids cried for real).
When I went out with my girlfriends I was always the one to break the ice with the coolest guys in the place. It's because of the way I grew up. I remember those summer days waking to loud disco music and Emiliano, the hottie of the house who was like 27 brought me breakfast in bed and said: 'Goodmorning Princess', like in that movie, before flashing me a smile of his. My confidence comes from that. It instilled me the thought that even if at school the kids hurt me cause the teacher praised me I knew hot guys liked me...hahahahaha. And It has nothing to do with that hated above average intelligence for which I was treated so poorly.
Then I grew up because I had to, because my family was split and I lived alone with my dog, my books, cigarettes, chinese movies and alternative myths. And I knew my brother would always protect me and look for my help if he was in need, my little sister would always want my appreciation but never follow my advices. Last wednesday I heard the voice of my little niece talking for the first time, because the last time I saw her she was not able to talk yet. I don't know if she even remembers me but then I asked her father that question and he said: yes, she curses like the devil! hahahaha. I had no doubt with parents like that. And I'm like that too.
Being a bisexual I loved women too. The childhood friend with long dark hair that haunt me in dreams, that deaf girl that wanted to be like others, that fought her fights with such strenght I still remember the stinging pain of her blow on my head because I didn't pay attention. Her and I kids, the first attempts at hot, let's play sex. The spanish girl with freckles and those green eyes for wich I lost all ability to speak. I miss her accent, I miss her face, I miss her whole. They were fucking muses, their beauty was inspiring me constantly. I wrote so much thinking of them, and now they're long gone. I wrote so much about the first guy I fell in love with too. That was a harder blow. Recently he told me he loved me, the musician, the artist. How happy that made me, but now I have some serious stuff going on and I'm not in for games. I'm putting effort into becoming someone I won't be ashamed of and I hope to build a good family, so I would teach my kids not to be hypocrites, not to be bigots, to be always kind but strong and seek the thruth among all the lies the media put before our eyes and I'll teach them to see beauty and cherish it, because I'm all libra and I really hope my future husband will put substance beside the form, that I will never allow to fail us.
And nothing really happens to me lately, except the movies and the songs. There is a new song of Tokio Hotel that I like but if I close my eyes I can't help imagining a gay scene between those twins. I don't even smoke anymore and I loved that. I live alone and feel alone and all that I have left is a gift that I can't use without a muse and the agonizing songs of Damien Rice and those of Brad Paisley about families that always make me cry. Yet I have this thing inside me that I need to protect. Like some sort of fierce pride that refuses to die, even if it's for a greater good.
Saturday, 31 October 2009
-
Currently
Anatatoikiru
Ye Lai Xiang, the fragrance of the night
see related鄧麗君 - Teresa Teng
I didn't know it was her, until I heard her voice. I didn't know she was dead yet. Teresa Teng was called the asian version of Frank Sinatra for how she was great. When I listen to her ballads they still gives me the chills for the power of her soft voice. It melts my inner cold core into a smile, always.
She had been dead for 12 years when her voice came to me, it was so weird to find out. Not that you ever get to know a person who's famous, and not that I ever felt like worshipping someone, even talented as her, and I know the important thing is her work, but still she could be the age of my grandmother if she was alive, she could still sing. That is the point of my sense of betrayal. She could have done much better, or maybe collapse into herself like a neutron star, who cares, but damn. A crisis of Asthma stroke her on stage and what I mean is she was maybe not a great loss to many but it was to me. And sometimes I like to remember about her.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
-
Lingering doubt
Should I skip my aunt's b-day party for chestnuts and mulled wine? Not that I'm a fan but would spare me some drama with boyfriend that wants to go...Och, my head hurts
