PebHmong Discussion Forum
Creative Corner => Online Journal => Topic started by: SamyElisabeth on August 29, 2014, 06:02:15 PM
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There's a part of me that still wants to carry you with me, and it's the part that longs for you when night has fallen and I'm all alone. It's the part of me that cares for you, and will always care for you. But it's also the part of me that weighs me down with sorrow and empty dreams, and it's so hard to walk alone carrying the knowledge that you don't want me.
So I pull this part of me into the light and I hope that soon, just like the warm sun on my skin, all will be absorbed, all will be recycled, and it will soon become particles within my body that only strengthen me.
In Paris, buffered in the muffled silence of Notre Dame, I stood beneath the stained glass windows on stones older than any grief I've ever known, and from the dense layers of marbled tiles and golden cornices, I sensed a weariness burdened by the weight of men's prayers.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask for relief for my own suffering, to ease my heart. But when I lit the candle and set it down, your name came to my lips instead. I don't know if it was a prayer or if it was just a fleeting thought that I sent to you on the Parisian winds, and I don't know if any higher being out there actually heard what I said in my heart that day, but I want to say it to you now:
My dear, I care about you and I always will. I wish you happiness and health, and all good things. I hope the darkness you endure won't last, and I give you all the strength you need to fight through the day. You are good and beautiful and strong, and I wish I could have been part of your life. Thank you for everything you ever shared with me, good and bad. Back to our beautiful lives we go, ready for the next adventure.
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Kuv paub koj yog leej twg. :)
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Kuv paub koj yog leej twg. :)
I thought you already knew? Lol
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I hought you already knew? Lol
Ice cream and candy gave you away. Also, you always leave heart felt comments after reading my poems. :)
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Ice cream and candy gave you away. Also, you always leave heart felt comments after reading my poems. :)
Well that's because your poems are always full of heart. :)
Glad you recognize me. :D
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Well that's because your poems are always full of heart. :)
Glad you recognize me. :D
Thanks. ;D. I like to think that I remember the important details, to me that is. I notice the chocolate scoop too. :D
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http://youtu.be/fXxjRfN9xjE (http://youtu.be/fXxjRfN9xjE)
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:) just reading...
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:) just reading...
Thank you for your thoughtful response. I understand now why your spirit is immortal and why all your friends are gods and deities.
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Thank you for your thoughtful response. I understand now why your spirit is immortal and why all your friends are gods and deities.
Keep your humor to yourself....
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Last night I thought about you, and for a rare moment there was no pain, only happiness. I remembered your voice and what you once said to me. The gentleness upon your tongue. The sincerity of your tone. You asked how I know you so well, how I could see inside your soul straight to your core. To be honest I don't remember what I said in reply; all I remember is hearing the wonder and surprise in your voice. I remember you said thank you for listening, and even though all I said was you're welcome, what I really wanted to say was, I listen because you take away my loneliness.
Wherever you are, please, be happy. Be well. Be safe. You're in my thoughts and in my heart.
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Every time I walk by the lake, I feel so calm inside. For some reason it makes me feel better. Like life is actually worth something.
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I miss my cousin. When I saw her at my uncle's house, she ran to me and threw her arms around me. Her arms tightened and she didn't let go. When I realized she was crying, it made me cry too. So there we were, two girls crying in each other's arms. It's been about four years since I last saw her. Such a long time but when I think about it, it feels like just yesterday when she lived with us for the summer. When we finally let go of each other, our eyes were red and our cheeks were flushed. We smiled at each other, laughed. We said hello and bonjour and comment ça va, and then she took both my hands in hers and looked at me with concerned eyes. "Lilac," she said, "I heard you were in the hospital. Are you okay?"
Gently I squeezed her hands and assured her I was okay. Just a little pain lingering, and nothing to worry about. Her sweetness and vitality overwhelmed me, and I was struck by how lovely she's grown these past few years. So sweet and gentle, and part of me wanted to protect her under my wing forever.
We spent the whole day together, talking, laughing, taking selfies, and sometimes we just sat together in comfortable silence. I was so happy.
When the hour came for her to leave with her family, she turned to me with tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you," she said. I could hear a slight tremble in her voice; it went through me like a sigh.
I gave her a big hug. "I'm just across the ocean," I said. "I'm always here for you."
And we cried again, bittersweet tears that wedged inside my heart. I watched her get into her dad's car, and I gave her a big smile when she looked back at me. The wind dried the tears on my cheeks as I stood at the green gate, waving at them as they left. The last view I had of her was the side of her face as she turned to wave one last goodbye.
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(http://i1153.photobucket.com/albums/p509/kittybrigan/ourplaceeditv2_zpsdb0c582b.jpg)
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(http://i1153.photobucket.com/albums/p509/kittybrigan/villeducoeur_zps91a05f78.jpg)
Lyon--first impressions. Tightly packed apartments and houses. Stucco walls. Red roofs. Earthy colors, dulled by the passage of time. This is a very old city. Narrow streets, some modernized and paved, some cobblestone. Awful toilets. The good parts are good. The bad parts are bad. French people seem the same as everyone else. Driving here is dangerous. Outside the famous cathedral, a French man was playing the accordion. I recognized the tune, something familiar in an unfamiliar place: La Vie en Rose. Digging into my purse, I grabbed a few euros and threw them in his case. He cried out, "Merci, mademoiselle!" as I walked away.
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(http://i1153.photobucket.com/albums/p509/kittybrigan/clouds_zps016ddeef.jpg)
When we missed our flight the first day, and then had to buy new (and incredibly expensive) tickets for a second flight which was then cancelled due to maintenance issues, I seriously considered cancelling the entire trip. My heart wasn't in it; my spirit was sore. Having so much trouble just trying to get there was like a sign from the universe. I remember crying at the airport because I felt so beaten.
I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to keep my chin up and show a smile to the world, this ducking world that's so terrible and frightening while simultaneously also beautiful. And I remember thinking that I wanted to go home and sleep. Part of me was so tired of life, tired of accepting people's abandonment, tired of the constant wave and flow of love and hate and madness. I didn't care about anything except the void in my center where I once stood with so much bright hope.
But I worked things out with the airline and we left on the third day. Straight flight right to Paris. As the plane lifted off the tarmac, I couldn't stop weeping. There was the inexorable feeling that I was leaving him behind, and I didn't want to. Part of me wanted to carry him with me. What did it matter though? He had already let go, he was gone. The place where our worlds had so briefly collided no longer existed.
The clouds were beautiful up in the sky. So quiet and serene. The buzz of the mad world below me faded away, and it was just me and those clouds, and I remembered once upon a time, he had asked me what I wanted to be most in this world. I told him, "I want to be a cloud, and float away so that I can be alone."
Well, I got my wish. I was floating among the clouds, and I was alone.
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NINJA VANISH!!!
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(http://i1334.photobucket.com/albums/w650/J-a-s-o-n-/th_20140822_230205_zps39c7740b.jpg) (http://i1334.photobucket.com/albums/w650/J-a-s-o-n-/20140822_230205_zps39c7740b.mp4)
Something to cheer you up. ;D
I can't view this on my phone so I'll watch it when I get home.
Hey koj puas tau pom my thread on what I think a c-walk actually is? I pondered it for days. ;D
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I can't view this on my phone so I'll watch it when I get home.
Hey koj puas tau pom my thread on what I think a c-walk actually is? I pondered it for days. ;D
OK,
I haven't seen your thread on c-walk. You actually thought about it for days? Silly yo. :2funny: What about stacking? :P
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OK,
I haven't seen your thread on c-walk. You actually thought about it for days? Silly yo. :2funny: What about stacking? :P
Here ya go!
http://www.pebhmong.com/forum/index.php/topic,361633.0.html (http://www.pebhmong.com/forum/index.php/topic,361633.0.html)
Stacking ey.... LOL. I'll draw it later and post it tonight. :D
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(http://i1334.photobucket.com/albums/w650/J-a-s-o-n-/th_20140822_230205_zps39c7740b.jpg) (http://i1334.photobucket.com/albums/w650/J-a-s-o-n-/20140822_230205_zps39c7740b.mp4)
Something to cheer you up. ;D
oh wow. muaj peev xwm kawg os, koj na. it looked like you got really close to the fire... did you feel the heat on your legs when you jumped over?
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Here's a video of me teaching my nephew all the hobbit names. I got Dori and Ori mixed up... darn.
http://youtu.be/NEoYbo7IDAM (http://youtu.be/NEoYbo7IDAM)
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oh wow. muaj peev xwm kawg os, koj na. it looked like you got really close to the fire... did you feel the heat on your legs when you jumped over?
Not my legs but on my worm. :P
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Not my legs but on my worm. :P
LOL
Ceev faj nawb! ;D
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She had a large, dark birthmark right under her eye. It was as if someone had taken a piece of charcoal and crumbled it down the left side of her face. That was the first thing I noticed about her.
The second: I thought she was beautiful.
It wasn't just the physicality of her person but also her attitude. The way she spoke, her easy laugh, and her direct gaze. It turned me into a stuttering fool. But only because I liked her instantly.
After she left, I spent days thinking about her. How nervous I felt around her, how nice it was to talk to her. It wasn't a sensual desire but more like a desire for company in this lonely cage I've built. She had reached something inside of me, and I felt something click. A latch pulled loose. Rusty gears swinging back into motion. Sunlight dappling the green, green grass. Her eyes were hazel bordering on green, and she wore her birthmark without shame or pity, and all I could remember was how beautiful she was, standing there while I answered her questions and felt so foolish.
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LOL
Ceev faj nawb! ;D
Liquid courage and bets are to blame. :D
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(http://i1153.photobucket.com/albums/p509/kittybrigan/R1-04100-0015v3_zpse104621b.jpg)
My dear friend, rest in peace now. You will be remembered.
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It's been a week since I started leaving out milk for the stray cat. The first two nights, it didn't touch my milk at all. But the third night... it drank it all! Last night I checked around midnight and saw the cat sitting outside my doorstep. It was staring straight at me. o_O
We indulged in a staring contest for a few minutes before I went back out there to pour it some more milk, and I also put some leftover roast pork out there as a snack. When I came back inside, I realized that I have become one of those weird, crazy old ladies who feed stray cats in the middle of the night.
But I guess there are worse things you can be, so I'm okay with it.
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When the smoke is in your eyes,
You look so alive,
Do you fancy sitting down with me? Maybe?
http://youtu.be/zo6ef5TX8Ak (http://youtu.be/zo6ef5TX8Ak)
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At the wedding they played this game. Apparently you're supposed to go find things and then run back to your seat, and every round they take away a chair. It was pretty funny.
http://youtu.be/Fg5A5LOI31E (http://youtu.be/Fg5A5LOI31E)
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(http://i1153.photobucket.com/albums/p509/kittybrigan/20140826_054425v2_zps56b76a33.jpg)
I still dream about it. I miss my family, and I miss the time I spent there. It was like I left all the bad things behind when I went there, and even though just as much bad happened there as there was good, I am still thankful for the experience.
Fields upon fields of sunflowers drying in the hot sun greeted me as we drove through the countryside. They would be collected to press for oil. I remember fields of corn and high towers of metal that reminded me of home, but the air smelled different. Even the clouds were different. They were large and gentle above our heads, sentinels in the azure sky. The landscape was different yet familiar, strange yet oddly I felt at home. I was no tourist, no distant visitor; instead I was a daughter of the country, welcomed in its embrace. All my previous fears and anxieties dissipated beneath the heat of the Gallic sun, and I was home.
The night I spent alone in the emergency room was awful, made only bearable by the vigilance of the kind nurse who spoke English to me. His hands, so confident when he searched my arm for arteries, started shaking when he failed. His trembling frightened me, so I clung to his hand to steady him.
When the doctor told my uncle and mother that they had to leave me there overnight, I almost cried in front of them. But I didn't. I waited until they turned off the lights and closed the door with the reassurance that all would be taken care of in the morning. I turned to my left side, away from the door so that no one might see me, careful not to disrupt the flow of the IV, and I cried lonely tears into my pillow. There was only one person I wanted there with me, but he would never come to my side, nor would he ever speak to me again, yet I still wished and hoped until I fell into an uneasy sleep.
When I came back from the hospital, I slept for a whole day. I had been welcomed home by this country, and I had tasted its delights as well as the reality of pain, and maybe this was the unexpected adventure I always longed for.
The day before staying in the hospital, my family had a string-tying ceremony and dinner for my mother and I. They tied scores and scores of white strings around both our wrists, and we ate an elaborate yet distinctly Hmong meal. At the hospital, when one of the nurses put the patient wristband on me, she noticed the strings and gave me an inquiring look.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked.
I said, "It's a symbol of love."
Her face told me she didn't comprehend.
"Un symbole d'amour.... de ma famille," I said in halting French.
That's all I have left now: symbols and memories and souvenirs from my time over there. There is also the reassurance that I have a family there who loves me, and also the knowledge that they're only an ocean away, an email away, and a text message away. Being among them and trying to maneuver my way through a country that was both foreign and familiar at the same time reminded me that this world is very large and beautiful, and even though there are terrible things that may happen to us at any given time, we should always hold near what we love and treasure. The time away was good for my heart and soul. I left the States with reluctance and a broken heart, and I came back with a heart full of love and life.
I remember the first time I opened the window of my room in my uncle's house. French houses don't have outer screens like we do here. The windows were large metal grates, and once unlatched and pushed open, the world was right there, large and immediate in its vivacity. It demanded to be met full on. It was awake. It was alive. There was no room for the past or for aching regrets. There was only that open window with the cool breeze pushing my hair back, and all of the world before me.
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Il est entré dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C'est lui pour moi
Moi pour lui dans la vie
Il me l'a dit, l'a jure pour la vie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NK9zdPj-os#ws (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NK9zdPj-os#ws)
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Beautiful photo. It's always been a dream of mine to visit France (Paris, to be exact and the surrounding areas to visit relatives and sightseeing).
Thanks for sharing.
Thanks! I hope you do get a chance to make it out there someday. It's beautiful and old and haunting, a trip well worth the snotty french attitudes. Lol.
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Today I'm thinking about you. Hope you're well. Hope you have found someone to confide in. Hope you're in a good place, a better place.
Me, I'm not doing so well. But I can't tell anyone because doing so would mean I have to acknowledge that even though it's been almost three months, I'm still broken over you. No one knows how heavy my heart is, or how many nights I cry myself to sleep, or how pointless I feel now.
You inspired me in a way that I haven't felt for a long time. I was so alone, and you were there for me. All that silly talk between us, and all those fine spun dreams we weaved together about a reindeer farm in the wilds of Russia, they meant more to me than I could ever say, even if I knew that it would never come to pass. It sounds illogical and silly, I know, but that's how it is.
For that brief window of time, that magical summer, it felt like every heartbreak I endured and every wrong turn I took was all a blessing because it led me to you. We found birds in the sky again. We found a place where we supported and encouraged each other, where you were on my side and I was on yours. This is what I miss the most, just knowing that you were on my side. I could have faced a disapproving world as long as you were with me. I could've faced dark shadows and long nights because you brought such a bright light into my world.
But now, the birds have stopped singing. I can't feel anything inside where they once flew with such a beautiful song. All I have are memories of words, words that perhaps I put too much faith in, words that still cut me deeply in the wake of the void you left behind. Maybe you've moved on already, and maybe you're so far ahead of me now that all the things that I still remember with perfect clarity are only vague memories to you. And that's okay. It's what I want for you. I would never want you to be left in a dark place like the one I'm in.
I just wanted to say something out loud, one last time, because these words ricochet inside me like the cry of a lone bird flying over the lake. They keep me awake at night when all the world is sleeping and my lamp is still lit by my bedside. They are the reason I drive alone aimlessly at night when I'm thinking about you. They are the thorn in my heart.
I wanted to say that I miss you. I miss you so much that I feel like part of me has died, and I don't know how to revive it. All I know is that I keep stepping forward, smiling to fool the world and myself that I'm okay, and yes I will be okay again someday, but part of me will always belong to you. And that's the part that, for the rest of my life, will search for moments full of you... even though it's clear that you no longer search for me.
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Today I'm thinking about you. Hope you're well. Hope you have found someone to confide in. Hope you're in a good place, a better place.
Me, I'm not doing so well. But I can't tell anyone because doing so would mean I have to acknowledge that even though it's been almost three months, I'm still broken over you. No one knows how heavy my heart is, or how many nights I cry myself to sleep, or how pointless I feel now.
You inspired me in a way that I haven't felt for a long time. I was so alone, and you were there for me. All that silly talk between us, and all those fine spun dreams we weaved together about a reindeer farm in the wilds of Russia, they meant more to me than I could ever say, even if I knew that it would never come to pass. It sounds illogical and silly, I know, but that's how it is.
For that brief window of time, that magical summer, it felt like every heartbreak I endured and every wrong turn I took was all a blessing because it led me to you. We found birds in the sky again. We found a place where we supported and encouraged each other, where you were on my side and I was on yours. This is what I miss the most, just knowing that you were on my side. I could have faced a disapproving world as long as you were with me. I could've faced dark shadows and long nights because you brought such a bright light into my world.
But now, the birds have stopped singing. I can't feel anything inside where they once flew with such a beautiful song. All I have are memories of words, words that perhaps I put too much faith in, words that still cut me deeply in the wake of the void you left behind. Maybe you've moved on already, and maybe you're so far ahead of me now that all the things that I still remember with perfect clarity are only vague memories to you. And that's okay. It's what I want for you. I would never want you to be left in a dark place like the one I'm in.
I just wanted to say something out loud, one last time, because these words ricochet inside me like the cry of a lone bird flying over the lake. They keep me awake at night when all the world is sleeping and my lamp is still lit by my bedside. They are the reason I drive alone aimlessly at night when I'm thinking about you. They are the thorn in my heart.
I wanted to say that I miss you. I miss you so much that I feel like part of me has died, and I don't know how to revive it. All I know is that I keep stepping forward, smiling to fool the world and myself that I'm okay, and yes I will be okay again someday, but part of me will always belong to you. And that's the part that, for the rest of my life, will search for moments full of you... even though it's clear that you no longer search for me.
Wow.
Wish someone would say that to me.
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Dear Mom,
First I wanted to say that I love you. I love you so much, and I can't imagine life without you. I'm sorry that I can't express myself through speech, but you should know that already so please don't force me to talk about it.
Second of all, I'm never going to be the perfect Hmong daughter. If I'm angry, I'm going to show it. If I need to vent, I will punch something or scream into my pillow. It saves me from screaming at you when you look at me with that disappointed expression, because I'm not really angry at you. Just angry at the world and this ducked up society. I'll never be able to "uv" things as much as you did. I'll never be a good little Catholic girl because right now I'm just as angry at God as I am at the world. I'll never be able to hide my contempt for the distant uncle who beats up his wife and kids, and I'll never be able to hide my happiness when I'm around someone who makes me feel alive.
I am just me: your no-good, lazy daughter who stays up too late at night. I'll always have a short temper, and I'll never be able to respect a man who says a lot but does little. I don't give a duck what people say about me anymore. To be honest I'm too tired to keep up with the latest gossip about myself, and to be even more honest I just want to do whatever the duck I want without worrying about how it'll stain the family reputation. And if you know me at all, you'll know that even though I feel that way, I'll still worry about whether I'm giving you and my dad a bad name or not, because you spent 30 years building our lives and one single act from me could mess it all up. Which is just ducked up, by the way.
So Mom, right now I'm irrationally angry at the world. I'm depressed and have lost interest in everything I used to like. I find it a deep accomplishment already when I'm just able to get out of bed and put on clothes. And I feel alone, so alone like a ghost wandering through a thick fog. But I know I'm not, and for this I am thankful. Because you're still here, and even though I can't talk about it, I know in time I'll be okay again.
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It's OK. When I was young, my mom used to say those things me all the time....about ua sab ntev, uv and uv again and again....never show your anger to others, especially your in-laws. But as I got older, she realized that I will never be that so she stopped saying those things to me.
Just be who you are....just make sure you have a s/o that is fully aware of your personality and can/will accept you.
Parents know we love them even when we don't verbally express them. This is especially true for older generations where words of affection normally don't exist in the family.
It's OK to be angry at the world. Matter of factly, that is preferred over holding everything inside. :)
Thank you... I am feeling a little more myself now. I'm also working on being more patient with my mom and understanding that her criticisms only stem from a place of love and concern.
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(https://img0.etsystatic.com/019/0/7361151/il_570xN.502867908_aq1q.jpg)
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Lilac, sorry to hear that you haven't been feeling well. I'm sure you know this but just wanted to remind you......they (whether family or friends) will lecture and express their feelings/thoughts about us and to us only because they care. It's when they stop doing this that we should be worried....... because that will mean they stop caring about us and what happens to us. As you are aware of, they only want the best for us even though we may not agree with them. Take care, girl! :)
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Lilac, sorry to hear that you haven't been feeling well. I'm sure you know this but just wanted to remind you......they (whether family or friends) will lecture and express their feelings/thoughts about us and to us only because they care. It's when they stop doing this that we should be worried....... because that will mean they stop caring about us and what happens to us. As you are aware of, they only want the best for us even though we may not agree with them. Take care, girl! :)
Thanks, trouble. :)
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Dear highway,
Your friendship has been one of the most important things in my life. I don't think I could ever express the depths of how thankful I am that you chose to be my friend. Thank you for listening, for witnessing my grief as well as my happiness, for letting me text you at 3 AM, and most of all, for being there.
Our boats may beat against the current but our anchors will always lead us to a place of comfort and hope.
http://youtu.be/gtOyEr_q9hg (http://youtu.be/gtOyEr_q9hg)
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Thanks, trouble. :)
You're welcome, Lilac. ;)
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Hnub no yog koj hnub yug. Kuv zoo siab tshaj plaws tias kuv yug los ua koj tus ntxhais. Ua tsaug koj tau hlub kuv, txhawb kuv tus kheej, thiab ua ntau txhua yam rau peb sawv daws. Koj cov txiaj ntsim mas kuv yuav nqa hauv nruab siab mus tag kuv lub neej. I love you.
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I've been told that I'm too soft and sensitive for this world, but I don't want to change. Being soft lets me accept other people's rejections and barbs with equanimity, lets me take the pain inside myself and mold it into my own shape. I want to hold a flower believing that it's a beautiful flower, not something doomed to die. The sun is bright and it may blind me sometimes, and sometimes I make mistakes and say terrible things, but I am still just a small flame in a big world. Whoever stands with me stays with me forever. Being soft is not a path towards cowardice or the inability to face the world. In truth, I think it's one of the most honest, sincere ways of living one's life, and I must be true to myself, forever.
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help me, I'm holding on for dear life
won't look down
won't open my eyes
keep my glass full until morning light
cuz I'm just holding on for tonight
http://youtu.be/4naMuYoSOHg (http://youtu.be/4naMuYoSOHg)
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one of those nights, eh?
i would drink with you but i'm a morning person now. so i tell myself.
only in the death of a flower can we see why life is precious, only in the struggle through suffering can we come to appreciate peace. beauty can only come to existence in the contrast of ugliness. and in the gulf between these extremeties we find what it means to be human.
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i may be late in this endeavor, but i have you a message for delivery
to our friend in far away places, in small town or big city,
along river or by sea, i haven't forgotten, three letters: H-B-D
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a Wild Flower,
Is like to...
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
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one of those nights, eh?
i would drink with you but i'm a morning person now. so i tell myself.
only in the death of a flower can we see why life is precious, only in the struggle through suffering can we come to appreciate peace. beauty can only come to existence in the contrast of ugliness. and in the gulf between these extremeties we find what it means to be human.
/pushes you a whiskey anyway. I know you want it. Lol.
I shall pass on the msg because I love being your little messenger girl. Nothing pleases me more than getting involved (again) between two of my best buddies. Have no fear... I will tell them.
P.s. someone must hate you.. cuz I didn't give you those negative points. LOL.
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I've been told that I'm too soft and sensitive for this world, but I don't want to change. Being soft lets me accept other people's rejections and barbs with equanimity, lets me take the pain inside myself and mold it into my own shape. I want to hold a flower believing that it's a beautiful flower, not something doomed to die. The sun is bright and it may blind me sometimes, and sometimes I make mistakes and say terrible things, but I am still just a small flame in a big world. Whoever stands with me stays with me forever. Being soft is not a path towards cowardice or the inability to face the world. In truth, I think it's one of the most honest, sincere ways of living one's life, and I must be true to myself, forever.
Miss Night Owl,
I like how you treasure a person that values you and you him/her. "Whoever stands with me stays with me forever." O0 O0
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/pushes you a whiskey anyway. I know you want it. Lol.
I shall pass on the msg because I love being your little messenger girl. Nothing pleases me more than getting involved (again) between two of my best buddies. Have no fear... I will tell them.
P.s. someone must hate you.. cuz I didn't give you those negative points. LOL.
thanks. and thanks for the drink, but i suspect you may be trying to kill me, slowly. hey i get enough of that from the local bartenders, geez. and yea i know you didn't give me the -1's. but love and hate are so close they could be the same thing. me thinks they loves me.
pm me whoever you are. don't be shy. if you don't hear from me right away, know that i will reply back. eventually.
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Herr god, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
-sylvia plath
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvQrH2T6VHc# (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvQrH2T6VHc#)
Someday she will look back to how it used to be, and she might feel a pang of regret for those sweeter days. She might even feel sad now and then for what she lost, for the wounds that will never heal, for the words that can never be spoken again. She crossed a threshold that changed her life, and now she is feeling the backlash. The sting is small but lasts a long time, and makes her weep in the darkness. Vague memories and a lingering sweetness--that's all that she has left: poor trophies from another era. She trembles at the loss, chooses the truth. There is no going back to how it used to be, back to how she once was. Now everything is cold and bright--a lake that's so clear she can see straight down to the bottom. The spiral she fell down was crazy and painful, and she never wants to go through that again. But that's not how life works. So even if it happens again, the silver lining on the horizon illuminates one single truth that she carries with her: whatever comes, she will make it through.
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(https://s.yimg.com/lo/api/res/1.2/uI1Zb1rSxrhRZHhY7gy8Yg--/YXBwaWQ9eWlzZWFyY2g7Zmk9Zml0O2dlPTAwNjYwMDtncz0wMEEzMDA7aD00MDA7dz01Nzk-/http://dylan10.d.y.pic.centerblog.net/o7tza33m.jpg.cf.jpg)
You remind me of this person. Smart, funny, caring, and uses words as weapons of mass destruction. :)
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(https://s.yimg.com/lo/api/res/1.2/uI1Zb1rSxrhRZHhY7gy8Yg--/YXBwaWQ9eWlzZWFyY2g7Zmk9Zml0O2dlPTAwNjYwMDtncz0wMEEzMDA7aD00MDA7dz01Nzk-/http://dylan10.d.y.pic.centerblog.net/o7tza33m.jpg.cf.jpg)
You remind me of this person. Smart, funny, caring, and uses words as weapons of mass destruction. :)
Thanks, Json... My words can cut people for sure.
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Thanks, Json... My words can cut people for sure.
I take that as you accepting my apology. ;)
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I take that as you accepting my apology. ;)
Yes. Because I forgive people when they apologize instead of laying another guilt trip on them.
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Yes. Because I forgive people when they apologize instead of laying another guilt trip on them.
Thank the Greek Gods, I was sweating.
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The best part about living alone? I can re-create Sia's "Chandelier" dance without any witnesses..... ........ ha.
http://youtu.be/2vjPBrBU-TM (http://youtu.be/2vjPBrBU-TM)
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I feel the net of a broken summer dragging all hope and love to another part of me, where everything is perpetual winter. It is a closed storefront, a barren wasteland, an unwanted bog, things that take up space but have no inherent value. It is a mixture of me and them and lies and whispers, and I want to grab it all and drown it in the swamp, bury its carcass beneath the peat, and then walk away to an unknown horizon.
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I came to WI a few years ago. I would of stopped by your store but we don't talk anymore.