I want to make this work again.

Something new? Yeah, that's what she said.

:|

Please, ignore me. I'm going through a phase.

Anyway, I realized that I had this blog for a while - for a long time (can you call more/less 3 years a long time?) And I wanted to do something new. Do you think making videos would be fun? It was a thought and well - it's here. I don't know if there are people actually reading this lame ass blog of mine but it would really be cool to know that there are people...out there willingly reading this...blog. (Look at your followers beech.) Yeah sorry, I'm not looking for comments (I actually am :| You write me a damn comment you!).

Yeah...

So...videos? Yes/no (your face is too ugly, go drown)?

I hurt my own feelings all the time. xD 

I finally understood that you can still feel lonely in a crowded room.

"Holding hands may seem like an innocent gesture, but they show more than a simple interlocking of fingers. Your hands are one of the most essential parts of your body: you build with them, feed with them, hold with them, touch with them, fight with them; they are the tools of the human body. To take a hold of another’s hand is to break from living individually. It is to link yourself to another being, to momentarily entwine your life with another’s, to promise, for a moment, that you need not face the world alone. More simple, more aesthetically naive than other forms of affection, i.e kissing, hugging, sexing, the act of holding hands is often trivialized in its true implications. As the Beatles once said: 


”All I want to do is hold your hand.”

Love Language.

I miss a lot of things. This is one of them. Don't worry love, I'm here now.

Today.

Today I painted bathroom walls at Marsh Memorial (social action group/charity service) and it was so bad that we have to come back and paint the floors.

Today my best friend Fzed gave me a (bracelet/band thing) for no reason and I love it and it makes me want to show everyone whom this amazing person is.

Today I watched Moulin Rouge. It brought back cold-nights-and-hot-milo-cape-town-nights memories. 

"I could follow you to the beginning and just relive the start. And maybe then we'll remember to slow down, to all of our favorite parts."

"There's a time when you can share and you hold hands and be on the same path. But there's always a fork in the road... at some point. And sometimes you have to go on one part of the fork and they gotta go on the other part of the fork. Or just down the back part of the fork while you go forward. And they're like *sigh* Or they got a salad fork and you have one of the big dinner forks and you have longer to go but they're like done because that's it, they're stuck on a piece of food, that they *sigh*. A desert fork or like one of those, you know small little shrimp forks or crab forks and you're trying to get out a crab. They're like that and you're over here jumping to the huge serving fork or something like that, or a ladle, you know."

"You can't have my heart, the doctor told me I'd be dead without it."

Chubby cheeks is a disease. Try not to catch it.

Sasuke and Sakura.

God.

Everything was ugly. Too damn ugly. If she could, she would throw a bucket of glitter and honey over the starless sky, and city, and you (because you don't like sticky things but you're also pretty) and anything else that was in her path. But she couldn't because she was laying on the cement floor with trailing thoughts and spilt coffee.

–when the dance is through, it's me and you. come on, would it really be so bad?

It always happens to her. Bad things. Horribly embarrassing bad (badbad) things. The breaking of glass, the scraping of knees against asphalt floors, those horrible prom night, pink Iseeyou pustules that pops up unexpectedlyexpectedly and the 

I-really-like-you-but-I'm-making-a-big-fool-out-of-myself-right-now-so-I'll-leave moments. Bad. It was always an ending to another beginning for her.

And then there was him. You. The can I slap you and kiss you at the same time boy. 

"It's not the end of the world."

"Of course it's not, if it was, I'd actually have some luck."

"Hn."

And then you'd do that funny little thatsnotevenaword sound. You were able to amuse me and stop me with that insignificant little noise.

She would get mad, throw a fit and then he would smile his smile, your rare kodak moment smile, his something-to-die-for smiles. My Sasuke smiles.

–all we can do is keep breathing now.

Instead of changing the world and making it a better place with glitter and honey, we lay on the cold asphalt ground under the starless sky with spilt coffee and trailing thoughts and smudged smiles with bad luck and broken glasses because I'd rather be sleeping and dreaming about tomorrow with you.


–you close your eyes and kiss your hand, then you blow it

Someone who cares.

Even though I'm supposed to be studying or get ready for an art practical thats due on Friday, I'm wasting my day on facebook and twitter(no one likes you. Be gone oh bad ones) 


And I got the nicest comment from somebody with blonde hair like the sun, sky blue eyes and the happiest smile (IN THE WORLD)


You made my day, and for that... thanks a bunch.

Make this week go faster.

Nobody likes exams. Unless you've got a knack for being smart. Pfft.


Wrote Afrikaans today. Art theory tomorrow. 


Wish me good luck. 

Life is a train. Get on board.

"I may seem crazy or painfully shy and these scars wouldn't be so hidden if you would just look me in the eye. I feel alone here and cold here though I don't want to die but the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside."

Dream drug.

It's strange. It's a relationship (I don think it's a relationship). It's something safe that they we have. Like the giggles and the stomach clenching and 

I'm not talking to you for five minutes. 

They talk about everything and blankblankblank. Words filled with nothingness that leaves them with a light breeze, lingering glances and a bad after taste. 

She always liked those glances though. because sometimes, when she saw them (when she gave them) it'd make her feel like she wasn't the only one stuck. 

Stuck. Stuck with a heavily stacked contract with blank pages. Torn edges. Stuck with her hands tied behind her back and a blindfold 

I don't know what I'm doing, I can't see where my feet are falling and I don't want you. I don't I don't I don't.

He knew her, Iknowyou, he knew too much and it scared her because she didn't know him (I don't want to know you because I like you too much for my/her/your/his own good). 

She doesn't think about anything, and it's all in the music, droplets of golden rainbow dripping through her soul as she tries, tries, tries to be this paradigm of perfection, silly and smiley and happy, but it's all for him, for him, and sometimes she thinks that no one else sees that because no one sees no one ever sees and it's like an addiction. 

The more she feeds it, the more she needs it.

I don't won't anybody to notice (She doesn't want him to notice even if her heart thinks otherwise. Stupidheart) because then it'd be real, too real for me to hold above the mountain of silver and clouds and happiness.

Too real for me to let go. Too real for a beginning and too real for an ending 

(make it easier and untie me. before it becomes too real for you and me). 

"Move your hips! Move your hip!"...No.

Yesterday was hilarious.


My mom and sister were doing a workout called Zumba. A dance workout. And they can't dance. They had to move their hips, arms and legs at the same time...


Who knew it could be so funny to watch your mom do unusual movements with her body?


I didn't.


So I decided to do it with them today...


It's horrible. I burst out laughing at my own stiff movements and then I got frustrated and left. Psh. 


I don't have to do that. Like. Really.


Anyway. Laterz.

"Happiness hit her like a bullet in the head, struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that."