Snowy

If your personality was like when it was in December 2009, you would be the perfect girl for me.

You're not the most attractive, but you were perfect in my eyes.

I feel sick when I think about how your personality changed over the years. It's a pity.

When I imagine you now, you're like the most luscious, delicious fruit, poisoned by a tiny seed.

Im just not ever going to have another relationship. * * * * you and the jaded bastard you have made me into. I never deserved this. You owed me more.

Mate don't worry. Don't let what others have done affect you. You need to be an individual that can live your own life the way you want to live it.

Don't take anything too serious man.

Perhaps we can still be friends.

You really disgust me.

How do you jump from one guy to another and act all innocent, cute and loyal?

When you jokingly said you wanted to deceive men, I didn't think you were joking at all. You actually are deceitful.

You weren't like this when I first met you. How did you change into this?

I wonder if you feel guilty when I hold you in my arm. I wonder if you feel guilty when you ask me to be your valentine for Valentine's day this year. I wonder if you feel guilty when I walk you home and kiss you goodbye.

You've taught me a lot.

I really think you should spend Valentine's day alone this year. I will not be your valentine.

Put your ego down.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

At this point in time, I still have random thoughts about you jumping up daily. Just random memories from the past 2 years.

You must have meant a lot to me. Every time I see a beautiful girl on the street, I compare her to you. Every time I see a girl on TV, I think about you. It just automatically happens.

However, I don't have that attraction towards you anymore... but I guess I was too used to having you in my life, so I can't help but think about you.

I'm certain that I've moved on and I'd just like to say...I hope you have moved on too and not waste time thinking about me haha.

Bye! Maybe we can catch up sometime haha. See how you're going with school

Also, I can't help but think that you're with a guy in the city...waiting for the fireworks. Those thoughts are like acid poured into my heart.

That was what I planned to do with last year, but that didn't happen. Oh well.

I'm missing you; not because I need you, but because I'm especially lonely on this New Years Eve.

I'm not going out, I'm not being productive at all. Just sitting in front of the computer doing pretty much nothing.

Have you thought about me today? I don't know.

What I know is, you have more company than I do.

I sent you a message for Christmas, but I guess I'll just say my New Year wishes here.

I wish you have a happy new year. Final 3 terms of school. 加油！

I still remember this time last year...

It was awful.

Things are much better now.

Sometimes I wonder if I should try again. But at the end of the day, I always tell myself no. Not sure if it's because I don't love you anymore or because I don't have enough courage to try again.

Surpeised with my new found ego huh?

We're both too smart lol.

It's like we're fighting a post-break up mind war. Too funny.

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question. . . 10

Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20

And seeing that it was a soft October night

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions

And for a hundred visions and revisions

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40

[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—

[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all;

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60

And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

[but in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]

Is it perfume from a dress

That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

And should I then presume?

And how should I begin?

. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling accross the floors of silent seas.

. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet–and here's no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while, 90

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"

If one, settling a pillow by her head,

Should say, "That is not what I meant at all.

That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while, 100

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

And this, and so much more?—

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

"That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all." 110

. . . . .

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old . . . I grow old . . . 120

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Sorry honey.

I don't know why the hell I'm posting in this thread.

A part of me feels like you're still my ex?

I don't know what to think.

When I said that we aren't right for each other, I think I would still say that.

You were sexy today.

I like it.

I could be way over thinking this but...

Honey, were we ever TRULY in love?

The more I think about it, the more I think it was infatuation.

Anyways...I'm off to sleep

You're not the hottest girl I know. You don't have the best personality.

Why am I missing you?

I saw your "舅舅" today.

I'll have to say, he bears SO MUCH resemblance to your mother. I've yet to see a "舅舅" who looks so alike to his "sister" other than yours.

He's not short.

Does he still call you every half a second?

Frankenstein - Mary Shelly

Romulus, My Father - Raimond Gaita

Hey I haven't posted here for a LONG time.

Just going to say...I just finished watching a drama and the end got me thinking of the memories we've had.

I don't know if it was those memories or the drama which made my eyes water a little.

Life goes on, people.

Hang in there.

So you're a liar now too.

Every time I find out something new about you, it is negative.

Why do you get lower and lower all the time?

Charlie Sheen just got dumped by Bree Olsen, one of his "goddesses"... does that still qualify as winning?

Sure does....>_>

Thanks for making me laugh haha when I read that suddenly there's this "men, men, men, menmen, men, men, men, men, mennnnn" tune in my head. I bet you know the tune

 

Charlie Sheen is winning.