hello_mrsunshine's Xanga

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Sun, 15 Mar 2009 08:33:53 GMT

This is no longer my blog of residence. I have switched loyalties.

amomentsfolly.tumblr

Not deleting this mainly because of the subscriptions and I want to come back in 5 years time and cringe at my 15-16 year-old emo self.

Asdfghjkl;'

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 05:50:10 GMT

Me and Physics don't get along.

The heart, it fools you

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 11:49:37 GMT

You're a clash of reality and beautiful deception I can't pick apart.

Luck was on my side when I managed to tear you up.

It's funny how even after all these months, I still don't think I know the real you.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I do idealize you way too much.

"Everybody lies."

At least not till Sunday afternoon

Tue, 14 Oct 2008 12:55:19 GMT

(F)#1112 - Narcissistic Moments . (: (Son of a Bitch!) says:

if i wana be 14% happy, 30% sad, 20% excited, 16% shocked, 19% stupid and 1% gay help me do that XD

(F) #1112 - Narcissistic Moments . (: (Son of a Bitch!) says:

yeh! not possible hey?

(F) #1112 - Narcissistic Moments . (: (Son of a Bitch!) says:

cheryl, \ it's not about geography or happenstance says:

fall in love, get into arguments, say awful things to the other person and watch the other person retaliate

(F) #1112 - Narcissistic Moments . (: (Son of a Bitch!) says:

LOL

cheryl, \ it's not about geography or happenstance says:

and hear your heart break and feel intense love and hate towards her

Alternatively, you could just give yourself a heart attack and eat cupcakes and curry at the same time.

Chased all my dreams that I can't weigh on the inside

Tue, 14 Oct 2008 07:08:41 GMT

"Live; I want to live inspired.
Die; I want to die for something higher than myself.

Live; I want to live on fire.
Die; I want to burn out brighter. Brighter than the Northern Lights.

The more I live, the more I see: this life's not about me. "

- Burn Out Brighter (Northern Lights) by Anberlin

I say, damn your moodswings

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 10:11:33 GMT

I have this inherent aversion to Mondays and first days back at school after term breaks. It's like a skunk peed in school over the holidays a day after the janitor tossed his resignation letter in the principal's face and no one cleaned it up and let it ferment and release a special chemical in the air that draws my Superbitch level up to giddy heights, impairing my ability to walk through the school halls without getting a violent urge to defenestrate(see see you do learn new words from facebook! :D) every person who makes any form of noise louder than a whisper and gets in my way, friends, teachers and random idiots alike.

Though I'm pretty sure it's just me, skunks don't live in Australia(I think..) and janitors are alot nicer. Hm, maybe skunks feel threatened by school as well.

It hit me halfway through the first lesson(English: The Great Gatsby and Mr Godden is back, thank God Miss Gates is gone.) that school has started, this is the most important term in the year, exams are in 5 weeks, I have not done anything remotely productive(except for baking and exercising) to get closer to my goal of getting into Medicine and I am screwed if I keep listening to the interesting conversations about history, politics and religion that go on at the back of the Physics classroom(which also happens to be where I always sit) and take my focus off the whiteboard and momentum and impulse and Stuart the nice physics teacher. And right after these startling revelations, my head literally started to pound. Right on cue. AKA Holiday Hangover.

And you know those grand plans to add 100 points to my Asian nerd cred by doing some hardcore studying? The outcome is what some people would describe as an epic fail.

I complain alot. kthxbye.

Stop making plans, start making sense

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 04:43:55 GMT

"The glass can be half-empty or half-full, however you see it. Doesn't really matter, at least there's water in the glass. So just thank God for the water and drink the damn thing."

It's funny how we over-analyze just about everything and forget to stop and smell the lavenders and lilies and gerberas and everything-else-but-roses.

Roses; I don't care for roses. Everyone's smelling roses, so I'll dive into a field of lilies and build me a home.

And I want a moment to be real

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 12:01:46 GMT

Question. Answer. Question. Answer. Question. Answer. Question. Answer. Dialtone.

I'm afraid I'll stop asking questions and initiating conversations and you'll become yet another ghost contact on my list who's just there but not there. Because I don't know how long I can keep up this pingpong game before I drop the paddle and stomp off, prima donna style.

I'm afraid I'll stop caring. Because too many people play this game with me and maybe, just maybe, your coloured face will fade into the black and white crowd with time and you won't be a priority anymore. Because too many people have walked in and out and far away and I'm hoping you're not one of them.

In case I do run out of things to ask,

I'll just let you know right now that I'm still here, period.

Because you're still a priority.

1 a.m. thoughts,

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 14:48:29 GMT

People, they're everywhere. There's the people you brush past on the streets, the ones who merely breathe a little air into our personal space and then they're gone. There's the people you've only talk to once and you wave to them in hallways whenever you see them, add them as Facebook friends or on MSN but you never really get past the hey how are you good thank you stage. There's the people you have one awesome conversation with and you never talk to them again, not including futile attempts to reignite that initial excitement. There's the people who know so much about you and vice versa, yet you can't say that you're good friends with them. There's the people you think you know but suddenly, the paint chips away to reveal their true colours and you back away with great unease. There's the people you see right through and want to reach inside them and pull out the thorny branches that hold their hearts in place, because you've been where they are now. There's the people whom you once knew, but they've changed into something unpleasant right before your very eyes and your first reaction to this unfamiliarity is to curl up into a protective ball and hope for the best. There's the people you'd trust your life with, yet you wouldn't trust them to keep a secret. There's the people who are exactly like you but you realise the wall of social status, cliques, suspicion and pride that lies between what could have been an invaluable friendship. There's the people who are as black as you are white(not in a literal sense), yet you find comfort in their company. There's the people you open up to. There's the people you don't. There's the people that throw you off and you don't know how to act around them and they might have formed an inaccurate judgement about you. There's the people who pretend to care but they don't, they just want something to gossip about. There's the people that drag you down with them. There's the people who pull you up and dust you off and send you on your way. There's the people you know you have to love but you can't bring yourself to love them. There's the people from the past and while they might not have changed your life in a significant way, you still hold them dear because they're the thumbtacks that keep your memories from walking right into a bottle of liquid paper. There's the people for whom your heart breaks. There's the people who break your heart and offer words laced with cold, vinegary sarcasm to heal the wound.There's the people you're leading. There's the people you follow. There's the people you would give your life for and you know they'd do the same. There's the people you need. There's the people who need you. There's the people you're walking alongside with, ready to pick them up if they trip and fall. There's the people that matter more than anything.

And then there's the people who walk in, make a mess, take some things and leave. And you spend a lifetime chasing them down and trying to snatch your belongings from their hands, only to realize that they've written their names all over what was initially yours in bright red Textas. And there's no longer any proof that it once belonged to you.

At a loss for words.

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 12:36:27 GMT

School sucks.