Sunday, March 30, 2008
like in the past.
as long as you're happy.
7:33 PM; `dead.Y
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
itwasme.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
terrible.
7:16 PM; `dead.Y
Saturday, March 22, 2008
define invisibillity
It's been some time since I've blogged.
I wonder if it's because I've grown lazy to type long posts,
or I've been too busy with life.
Maybe, both.
I'll try to find stuff to say tomorrow,
or writings to post.
But for now, I can't really find much stuff to say,
save for the fact that I'm still alive.
But, aren't you too?
but you are invisible.
We'd all love to hide, don't we.
but where do I hide
1:58 AM; `dead.Y
I forgot about page 404.
So...
404 Error : File not found
The URL you requested was not found.
you're just like page 404.
1:54 AM; `dead.Y
Monday, March 17, 2008
12:55 AM; `dead.Y
Thursday, March 13, 2008
i lost more memories.
but you wouldn't understand.
9:46 PM; `dead.Y
at least, I'll try again.
I haven't been quite, honest with myself.
I always get this irritated sensation that comes out of nowhere.
I have no idea why.
I must be more proactive.
Yeah, yeah.
It never happens no matter how many times I say this.
It doesn't work.
But it doesn't feel so queer already.
Maybe I should just put this aside,
maybe I should just put everything aside.
It hasn't been the same since somewhere in August.
Has it.
shh,
apocalypse please.
9:00 PM; `dead.Y
i forgot the four hundredth post.
so here's 401.
9:00 PM; `dead.Y
why do I get the irritated feeling.
5:07 PM; `dead.Y
i heard this over one of the weekdays
don't disappear again.
okay.
I feel rather normal now.
stolen again.
3:49 AM; `dead.Y
be honest with yourself.Reading new comics these days.
Quite nice, but I won't go into it.
Too tired to.
Read about teenage angst on the newspaper today.
Rather lame.
Made me remember about how some people used to show me their,
cut-up arms.
I have no idea why they were proud of it,
mental problem, maybe.
But on second thoughts,
you know,
I really feel they could be rather artistic,
with all the blood and stuff.
Don't really like the scars though.
Okay,
what am I talking about.
I'm feeling a bit happier in camp these days,
though there's still lots of work.
At least, I feel people start to accept me more,
I've changed quite a bit too,
and I hope I'm stronger than before.
but.
i'm not letting time steal you away.
I'd love to not forget.
12:26 AM; `dead.Y
12:24 AM; `dead.Y
Friday, March 7, 2008
extremely bad day
I feel like dying.
10:52 PM; `dead.Y
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
in the middle of the night.
8:31 PM; `dead.Y
sometimes, you too,
are my first visitor.
8:28 PM; `dead.Y
`
old
The flowers whisper,
the secrets they hear.
The petals flutter,
they hear her mutter.
It was then autumn,
the leaves they would count.
The stories they'd tell,
those sweet nothings they knew so well.
The sunset they drew,
the bubbles they blew.
The colours she'd weave,
their farewell she'd grief.
It was then summer,
the doll he gave her.
It was their first kiss,
his warmth she would miss.
The pages he'd flip,
Together, a book that they'd read.
The ivory they'd tinkle,
like the stars, its melodious twinkle.
It was then spring,
for her, the songs he'd sing.
She'd dance under the starry skies,
the willows sway, their silent cries.
A pair of footprints in the sand,
sneaking behind, he'd grab her hand.
He's put his fingers to her lips,
" Don't say a word, remember this. "
It was then winter,
when icy winds cackle.
A lovely princess made from snow,
they'd go to arms, snowballs to throw.
She slowly began to wonder,
so she wrote in curly letters.
" I wish that this magical bliss,
would never ever come to cease. "
A whiff of lavender,
their 51st summer.
A chimney smokes, a kettle sings,
a cup of coffee, for her, he brings.
The flowers whisper,
the secrets they hear.
And by the seaside,
they huddle beside.
A story was told,
and so they grew old.
Oops,
fairy tales don't exist,
do they.
`old
Wrote this rather long ago,
the plan was to wait until I felt slightly happier,
then I'd post it.
Never got to,
so I added the last part.
Fits, doesn't it.
Back, because I'm on off.
But returning very soon,
returning to a shitload of work waiting for me to settle.
Maybe, I'd hope we'd have the chance to talk properly.
I'd love to dream sweetly.
8:05 PM; `dead.Y
8:00 PM; `dead.Y
Monday, March 3, 2008
Had wanted to write a longer post at 0030 HRS.
Then found out my front right speaker wasn't working,
I got so worried, kept reinstalling drivers,
restarting computer and stuff.
In the end, it was just the audio jack not plugged in properly.
Thanks.
Then recently I keep getting BSODs on my new com.
What the fuck.
Anyway.
So now I haven't got much time.
Was supposed to book in yesterday early,
instead was changed to 0700 HRS today.
Not bad, but this also means I'm not gonna get enough sleep.
I have enough problems as it is,
I feel like quiting.
I have quit on a lot of stuff already,
haven't I.
Shan't talk too much, got to catch some winks.
Slept at 4AM yesterday.
Maybe I'll die.
I've been hoping for some people to talk to me,
and after all this while,
I realised they were hoping the same.
Why does the world work like this.
Some people as in, not only you.
I'd talk, maybe.
But won't have time these days.
Ciao.
1:32 AM; `dead.Y
Sunday, March 2, 2008
reading logs
empty drafts.
2:38 PM; `dead.Y
bad habits die hard,
don't they.
4:05 AM; `dead.Y
Saturday, March 1, 2008
i'm losing everyone slowly
you
my friends
my family
2:13 AM; `dead.Y
yesterday, was a leap day.
2:12 AM; `dead.Y