all about brain cells working. dont take everything seriously
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It's been a prolific three years of self exposure in this account. This place overwhelms me in both good and bad ways that's why I decided (don't get me wrong because it's been a mind battle over the past year) to run away from everything in here. Don't ask because it's inexplicable and even I, myself can't put my finger on it. But it's not ending here. I'd still be around and writing....
here.
Thanks everyone! -eiua
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we were the least perfect couple. we're struggling but we're making it through the days. it wasn't half as bad as others think it was since we're on our 3rd chance. as the saying goes, "third is a charm." more than that, he's my gold. he's my finish line and my more. he is my tomorrow and my future. there's just too many things he's holding, but would less likely to keep it when things start to wobble down. of course i trusted him to let our fragile stance keep up. we were doing okay and we keep missing each other. that assures me that we were nowhere near to breaking. weekends were my life. we both drowned at the sights of each other and that was something i thought was irrevocable. turned out we had no idea how freewill can overpower dreams and promises, tomorrows and weekends, and him and me.
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Drafts
People should learn how to be a keeper. Some aren't entitled to us for so long.
Hopefully getting there.
Take it all back - your always straight face, deep voice. Yeah, take me back.
There are flaws people have that are actually beautiful.
It is the brave who forgives.
You can express what you're feeling without sounding too pathetic. You just have to find the right words.
Loving you is like sending a love letter without a return address. Don't worry and don't doubt it. I don't want to bother your for something in return. It's called unrequited.
How much love you've shown > How much love you felt Well, we always feel the 'inadequacy' as they say. Who doesn't at some point?
Between books and you, I will always pick books. Long story short, they offer peace.
Tequila tastes best when incorporated with anguish.
I am almost you. You made me too much like you. You ripped off the part you once occupied in me.
I wish I have all the time in the world to no longer call them 'preliminary version of my writings'
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For me, it's a total bullshit when people end a relationship out of the underlying thought that they lose themselves throughout the relationship and that they wanted to find what they said they've "lost." It doesn't make any sense.
That's exactly the point of falling in love and being committed. You lose yourself because you no longer have to deal with two free human beings, two separate people. You chose to be in that relationship to be one with the person and you undoubtedly surrender your identity because that's how love works. You get selfless; you give way. You're not saving yourself while doing this. Instead, you do your lover a favour and you save the relationship.
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It disappoints me how much people rely on duplicates. They'd be okay to lose something out of the underlying thought that they are keeping a spare. People should learn how to keep things. Some aren't entitled to us for so long because we think they weren't. If only everyone's a keeper, this world wouldn't be heavier to bear living in.
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You can choose me to be the person to rummage through. But I am a winding piece of tedious crap. The journey through me is through continuous bends, turns, curves, twists. Rummage through me and you will see dark alleys. Sorry about that. I light up occasionally. One portion differs from the next segment and changes again in that next scrap and varies up until the last shred of my pulp.
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YOU KNOW IDIOTS SURROUND YOU WHEN THEY ASK YOU IF YOU WANT TO CHILL RN HEY LET ME TELL YOU WHAT IT'S ALMOST 2 AM FUCKFACE
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Too many drifting thoughts on a 12 am hard to sink deep down and even if I try, it'll just be another effort wasted for they remain afloat
I swear half an hour hasn't completely passed yet and my temper is starting to rise. Why is it so hard to multitask with this laptop. I should prolly get a new one or maybe a better software but what the hell im unemployed the whole summer of the year. I have less than ten bucks in my purse and a credit card with an estimated savings of less than ten bucks too
I think Ellen Hopkins is one desirable legit author. Guess it'll take me just a few more of her books to completely fangirl (you might stumble upon her words god knows where and when).
Decided to search up an old friend of mine, didn't mean to stalk but to find out about his life at the moment. Yep his. Since I got connections to him (well not vast as the word 'connections' might detail, but still), I took advantage. Facebook. Looked for someone's name starting with H. Second letter, third, fourth, the rest of the letters exactly forms another name which is too familiar to me. Too familiar that I happen to compare it with my favorite word - shenanigan. So I started typing the last name just so I could be more precise (that I don't see people popping out to ruin a good midnight writing opportunity). Through all of her friends, he's nowhere on the list. Aw that's unfortunate. Then I tried Google. It appeared that there has been so many frustrated parents to name their kids the most overused name in the history so I still couldn't find him. Then I gave up. That's what you do right? You give up when you couldn't do anything anymore. Well then I was right to give up.
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Woman's POV
"We fucked like animals. We do it every time we had the chance to be together. We weren't a normal couple. We relied heavily on sex and on our demons. We felt how erotic the atmosphere is, not how romantic to actually be able to spend a little time together. We messed up sheets and didn't even bother to fix them. I wasn't a promiscuous woman since I only had a sexual relationship with him, but he probably thinks like that. We fucked and we didn't make love. I can't feel deep longing. We were noisy and he's hard on me. He kisses me all over my body. It definitely was fucking not love making."
Man's POV
"We made love like a married couple. We do it every time we had the chance to be together and I think we can't be more normal than this. We relied and trusted each other. We felt and realized how romantic and erotic could go well together in our little atmosphere. We messed up sheets and we don't bother to fix them because all we care about is each other. She definitely wasn't a promiscuous woman and I'd like to be his first and last. We made love, definitely not fucked. She was noisy, groaning for more and I would only want to keep my love satisfied so I tried to get hard on her. I kiss her shoulders and lips because I know she likes that the most. That's when I notice her only two moles - one at the top of her lips and the other on her left shoulder. It definitely was love making not fucking."
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you write about him like he didn't run away, like he didn't break his promises, like your wounds were invisible, like you were invincible, like you still see him everyday, like you two still exchange stories and share meals, like you feel that the only girl his eyes would lock up to is you, like the smell of his hair is buried in your nostrils, like he just introduced you to his mother yesterday, like he just denied life among the three flowers just to gave them to you and you realize they were the first ever flowers he gave you, like you revolve around his axis while you no longer was his world, like his details were carved at the back of your mind - from his words to the warmth of his hands down to the moles all over his body
you write about him just like that
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Dreamed about you
You were naked, we talked, and i saw your friends I said to put some clothes on, you said it doesnt matter and you need to talk to me quick You said you were gonna wait for me and you were hurt and you love me. Still. Then we were interrupted. You said we have to talk again. Then my classes started I tried to keep in touch to you through facebook but was afraid to turn out too clingy so i hesitated. I asked why didnt you even bother to talk to me after that conversation. I was a girl and i wasnt supposed to do this because im not your old love anymore. Im not the same girl you once bullshitted. But because I need to know more, I talked to you. I asked if I was just dreaming when we talked or if that was really real. You said it cant be more real. And i was so happy that it wasnt just in my bubble ready to burst. Then we agreed to meet each other and talk again. But we never did meet.
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The caffeine in my green tea which is now inside my system is prolly the reason why I am still up on a 3 am. I feel agitated having to deal with my menstruation for nearly 3 weeks now. Am I running out of blood yet? Cos I swear I'm less worried about it than the amount of money needed to spend for an endless number of sanitary pads.
I attended a soiree yesterday and I got home the next day at 1 am. My dad didn't bother to nag at me while I have been bothered for six hours that he will get fiery. But um thank heavens no. I don't think I wore my best outfit today and felt like a teenager deprived of lovely clothing. And guess what I ripped my pants. Like seriously are you kidding me right now I am at a party with people capable of seeing with their two eyes on one ratio and my pants got ripped just like that. Then I have to change into this gray tights. As much as I was thankful for the back-up, sorry but not sorry, I felt horrible during the next 3 hours of my stay because my clothes weren't visually matching. Then my pad was obvious and I looked like a transgender with my bakat pototoy. Okay that was inappropriate but I'd like to express that horrible moment with the precise details just so you virtually are on my shoes at the moment.
This stiff neck has been exasperating me since the other day. Geeez I am currently incapable of turning my head to the left and looking over my left shoulder. So when I have to look at my friend beside me, my whole body has to go along with me or else if I tilt my head, I'd snap it and my life's done. I'm exaggerating but you know how it works when it hurts real bad. Then I brought up a rating game with my friend when we were in the bus station to score a guy from 1-10. We evaluated an old man, a black guy, a lanky copper-haired white guy, a bald guy, and a married man. And I happen to rate my old lover eight in my mind (tho he's not physically present). And I rated Kevin Tierney, the insane violent guy in the novel Safe Haven, a negative one. Then I rated the only guy I like in my school a 9.5. It was a .5 off because of the thought that he was just too perfect and I will be doing him a favor not to give him the magical number ten since he doesn't want to stand out among the rest of the douchebags. I remember how he denies to everybody that he got a 100% midterm mark on science and a 97% on math. I hated him but then he was full of humility that I started to un-hate him.
I also haven't been oversleeping for the past few days. I hate waking up in the wee hours of the day and not able to drift into my cut short dreams later. And I want to shake off the idea of writing about the past whenever I have my pen and notebook with me. I was left of nothing to do and eventually I give in to stop holding it back and let my caged words come out. Cause I think that's what I write about best at the moment. Maybe one day I'd be able to come out of my comfort zone and try writing for the future. Maybe for someone else. Maybe for myself too.
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I don't understand how he could be so numb. This is the very first time I genuinely (like honestly) hated him for that attitude.
"I'm gonna get through this. I'll be cured."
She thinks she was talking to a 10-year-old and not a 17-year-old who already read The Fault In Our Stars. I don't know the medical meaning, but I understand how a stage IV prepares to steal the rest of someone's life. Submissively giving up a part of your body means that you let it take the rest. But I'd like to gather up all the hopes in this world that she'll really gonna get through this. That she'll really be cured. Like seriously, I love her potty mouth. I don't want it gone. I don't want the whole her gone (forever).
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"We teach girls shame; close your legs, cover yourself, we make them feel as though being born female they’re already guilty of something."
— Chimamamda Ngozi Adiche at TEDxEuston (via blackmermaidgirl)
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Dreamed about making love with my girl best friend. That I think, was the nastiest dream I had in my entire 17 years of existence. But the lesbian physical connection felt right and um romantic?
WTH
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I hope one day I drop my journal unconsciously and a writer or a word lover steps on it or sees it on the busy streets of Canada, pick it up, keep it, have second thoughts about reading it yet reads it in the end, keep it again, then fall in love with my pieces, then fall in love with me. It doesn't matter if he finds out about me and I get my journal back; because I learned that you don't have to see a person all head, body, down to toenails to fall in love with them for the first time and continue to fall in love with them every day. Sometimes, just thinking about them will make you desire more than you've ever felt desire in your whole vapid existence.
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