"There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room. It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction -every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and excitement at about a million miles an hour." — Sylvia Plath (The Bell Jar)
Its truly upsetting and terrifying to feel this way all the time.
Not just about watching two people together,but about everything.
“Dear God, let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere — be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”
-Betty Smith
I don't really know or decide what to say yet. But here's a little inspiration to help you get through this week.
“I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death.” —Marya Hornbacher
I'm sorry everyone,for being so whiny and upset! I wish I weren't like this. But on a lighter note,Happy Halloween! Eat many,many sweets and watch many,many horror films okay?
(As for me,I don't really like candy so I ate many,many chocolates)
“The world is full of things like that: old postcards, theatre programmes, leafles about bomb-proofing your cellar, greetings cards, photograph albums, holiday brochures, instruction booklets for machine tools, maps, catalogues, railway timetables, menu cards from long-gone cruise liners - all kinds of things that onced served a real and useful purpose, but have now become cut adrift from the things and the people they relate to. ~ They might have come from anywhere. They might have come from other worlds. That scribbled-on map, that publisher’s catalogue - they might have been put down absent-mindedly in another universe, and been blown by a chance wind through an open window, to find themselves after many adventures on a market-stall in our world.”
-Phillip Pullman in the preface to Lyra’s Oxford
***
I've received back my exams results. Even though I'm quite unsatisfied at how some of the grades turned out,I'm glad that I pass everything. Even Math and Physics. I feel so relief and quite happy at the same time that all the hard work paid off. I haven't been doing anything interesting recently and I still have yet to clear my desk and arrange the books. But I just began reading Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov and I must say, that the writing is absolutely brilliant. The holidays are approaching soon and I'll pretend that school would never have to open again and rest my soul for a thousand years.
This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night.
In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings.
This music was her—the real plain her…
This music did not take a long time or a short time.
It did not have anything to do with time going by at all.
She sat with her arms around her legs, biting her salty knee very hard.
The whole world was this symphony,
and there was not enough of her to listen…
Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.
-Carson McCullers
***
I felt disappointed with myself in English class today.
We were given twenty minutes to write
an essay on anything in particular and it was based on a diary entry.
Even though I had quite a few ideas to write about I don't know why
I couldn't write out the words onto the paper.
I just kept staring and staring at the paper with only the words
"Dear Diary" written at the top and when I realised I had
only five minutes left to complete,I did what I do best at; Panic and scribbled down nonsense.
I sort of feel useless.
I can’t think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly, even though I feel that here in this world there’s no undisturbed place for our love, neither in the village nor anywhere else; and I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.
-"The Castle" by Franz Kafka
***
I feel better today. But school is getting tougher than ever before and it makes me dizzy.
I don’t want to start thinking again. Not like I have this last week. I can’t think again.
Not ever again. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that.
That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist.
Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that.
I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this.
That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning. — The Perks Of Being A Wallflower There was a lovely butterfly in our class flying around aimlessly today.
The boys were being immature and tried scaring it away with brooms and sticks and laughed
and laughed uncontrollably. Poor,poor delicate butterfly,ended up with a broken wing
while trying to escape from those horrifying,cruel,heartless monsters.
I don't find the scene funny the slightest bit.
See now,precious,fragile beings always ends up getting hurt and partially to die. How are they victims all the time.
Cities at night, I feel, contain men who cry in their sleep and then say Nothing. It’s nothing. Just sad dreams. Or something like that…Swing low in your weep ship, with your tear scans and sob probes, and you would mark them. Women—and they can be wives, lovers, gaunt muses, fat nurses, obsessions, devourers, exes, nemeses—will wake and turn to these men and ask, “What is it?” And the men will say, “Nothing. No it isn’t anything really. Just sad dreams.”
The Information by Martin Amis
***
I went for the family event thing this afternoon like I was told to. I was right,most of my relatives were there. Some I knew,some I didn't and most I'd forgotten their names. But this time,it was quite different. While I was there, I spotted a little statue of the Eiffel Tower and a very pretty and big picture of Paris city hanging on the wall with only the the Eiffel Tower in colour, as though it was lit with bright yellow lights,while the rest of the city was in black and white. It turns out that my Aunt had gone to Paris for work matters. I didn't know that. So instead of watching the adults talking amongst themselves, I admired the picture while remembering the times I'd been there and thought Paris city had never been so beautiful, and was as though the picture was smiling the brightest of smiles which made it much more beautiful then it already was.
But there was this feeling of sadness inside my heart that was very much hard to explain. It was a little sad for me. Paris had to be so beautiful but so faraway at the same time.
I'm in a castle standing in a tower, looking down through a window at the beautiful garden, the sun setting in the distance.
The beauty in the moment brings tears to my eyes.
Sky blue pink, the backdrop for roses in ever color blooming in the garden. — Lisa Schroeder (Chasing Brooklyn)
*** Its been about a week since I last updated. I am so sorry. The reason I left my blog for a bit is because I had a really busy week.My exams just started today. (English and Chemistry.) So the pass couple of days I was busy with school work and such. I got so caught up with school work that I didn't realise I was worrying again. And it got so bad that i tired myself,my throat began to hurt,my body ached and I fall ill the day before the first two papers (yesterday) But thank god I felt better this morning. The two papers today was alright and I hope for the very best that the result will turn out good My exams only ends next Thursday so I'm going to leave this space for awhile.Till then.
(writing to her father) “I have learnt how to live… How to be In the world and Of the world, and not just to stand aside and watch. And I will never, never again run away from life. Or from love, either…”
Other than the fact that my pens are always going missing (i think the little elves and gnomes in the school garden took them!)and mom being so overprotective of me,life is fine now. And hopefully it'll get even better. The exams are in one week's time and I have many things to cover on.
Anxious. That's the right word to describe how I'm feeling the pass few hectic days. But that's normal for me I guess,I feel like this all the time and possibly,everyday of my life. I can't wait for everything to be over,then I'll sleep forever till next season,and flyaway to dreamland.
I wish everyone a lovely day. May all of you gain the desires of you heart. love.
"I will tell you what Jeanne was like. She was like a piano in a country where everyone has had their hands cut off." — Angela Carter
Question: We have family and friends who loves and cares for us,but when stuff happens, really serious stuff happens,you just feel so alone and you cannot tell people. They'll probably listen,but they don't know everything. There's just some stuff that you can't share. So what do you do then?
Coach: All right, Patch. let's say you're at a party. the room is full of girls of all shapes and sizes. You see blondes, brunettes, redheads, a few girl with black hair. Some are talkative, while other appear shy. You've one girl who fits your profile - attractive, intelligent and vulnerable. Dow do you let her know you're interested?
Patch: Single her out. Talk to her.
Coach: Good. Now for the big question - how do you know if she's game or if she wants you to move on?
Patch: I study her. I figure out what she's thinking and feeling. She's not going to come right out and tell me, which is why i have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold me eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?
— Becca Fitzpatrick (Hush, Hush)
Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone’s hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted—wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don’t look at me. If you don’t, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.
The History of Love, 2005
-Nicole Krauss
*** I know I'm posting this late,and I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before,but I want to thank Petty Writer,Christiejolu and Stella for the wonderful awards they had given me quite recently. Petty Writer:http://pettywitter.blogspot.com/ Christiejolu:http://christiejolu.blogspot.com/ Stella:http://justimagination90.blogspot.com/
I don't really have anything much to talk about today. It just that my mind is so occupy on so many things. I so very worried about the exams that I'll be taking the next month,the end of the year,and the year after that,and the year after that year. I'm worried that I'm not studying enough,I'm not trying enough, I'm worried about how am I going to make it to college. I'm worried that I'll fail again. I worry about everything.
I went over to my window and opened it and packed a snowball with my bare hands. The snow was very good for packing. I didn’t throw it at anything, though. I started to throw it. At a car that was parked across the street. But I changed my mind. The car looked so nice and white. Then I started to throw it at a hydrant, but that looked too nice and white, too. Finally I didn’t throw it at anything. All I did was close the window and walk around the room with the snowball, packing it harder. A little while later, I still had it with me when I and Brossard and Ackley got on the bus. The bus driver opened the doors and made me throw it out. I told him I wasn’t going to chuck it at anybody, but he wouldn’t believe me. People never believe you.
The Catcher in the Rye, 1951
-J. D. Salinger
***
Its Friday night and I'm just sitting at home wasting precious time. My Friday nights are always like this. I know that somewhere across town,in a rich girl's house there's a party going on, which is held by my former classmates.It's not really a party,more of a class gathering. I was invited actually,but I felt that I didn't really want to go. Because,if I did go,I knew that I wouldn't be enjoying myself,even though I'd be surrounded by all the so-called "cool people'' (from what I heard,they're the only ones going). They aren't really bad people. Sometimes they're nice to me,sometimes they're not. It funny you know. We've been together as a class for two years,and still don't get along,and we act like strangers when we see one another. They see me;quiet and timid,I see them; loud and obnoxious. We're opposite. And to be honest,I like my current 2010 class much better,even if some say they don't.
In his highly acclaimed novel NEVER LET ME GO, Kazuo Ishiguro (THE REMAINS OF THE DAY) created a remarkable story of love, loss and hidden truths. In it he posed the fundamental question: What makes us human? Now director Mark Romanek (ONE HOUR PHOTO), writer Alex Garland and DNA Films bring Ishiguro's hauntingly poignant and emotional story to the screen. Kathy (Oscar® nominee Carey Mulligan, AN EDUCATION), Tommy (Andrew Garfield, BOY A, RED RIDING) and Ruth (Oscar® nominee Keira Knightley, PRIDE & PREJUDICE, ATONEMENT) live in a world and a time that feel familiar to us, but are not quite like anything we know. They spend their childhood at Hailsham, a seemingly idyllic English boarding school. When they leave the shelter of the school and the terrible truth of their fate is revealed to them, they must also confront the deep feelings of love, jealousy and betrayal that threaten to pull them apart.
I really want to watch this film. But unfortunately,its rated R which means I'm not allow to. I've not yet read the book though. I just happened to come across this when I was browsing videos on YouTube. But I heard the book is a really great read. I'll most definitely get it sooner or later. I watched it for the first time and got really attracted to the story and I had this strong desire to watch it. I really like (literature) love stories like this,they've got the best lines,they alsways left me in deep wonder and thought about people and life.
I'm really sorry,but I couldn't refrain myself from posting these lines that caught my attention from this 2 min 29 secs trailer,there's something about them that I personally feel is really deep.
"....and now i spend most of my time not looking forwards but looking back on what happened..."
"there once was a boy who had ran off beyond boundary,they found him in the woods with his hands and feet cut off. who told you this stories? everybody knows them. and how would you they're true. you make up stories as horrible as that."
"i feel tommy really likes you as a friend,he just doesn't see you that way"
"we didn't have to look into your souls,we had to see if you had souls at all."
"i wish i could help you,you're poor creatures."
"maybe none of us really understand what we've live through or deal with till we had enough time"
Harvey and I sit in the bars… have a drink or two… play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they’re saying, “We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re a very nice fella.” Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We’ve entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over… and they sit with us… and they drink with us… and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they’ve done and the big wonderful things they’ll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey… and he’s bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that’s envy, my dear. There’s a little bit of envy in the best of us.
Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night. Only you can see, in the blinded bedrooms, the coms and petticoats over the chairs, the jugs and basins, the glasses of teeth, Thou Shalt Not on the wall, and the yellowing dickybird-watching pictures of the dead. Only you can hear and see, behind the eyes of the sleepers, the movements and countries and mazes and colours and dismays and rainbows and tunes and wishes and flight and fall and despairs and big seas of their dreams.
From where you are, you can hear their dreams.
-Dylan Thomas
*
I'm starting to save up money bit by bit each day now. I'd usually stop halfway when comes to saving up. But its different this time,I need it for my future plans. Mom's challenging me,she says I won't save up enough and that I won't keep my word in doing these things. I'm going to prove her wrong this time.
Sunlight sounds like a symphony I’ve yet to hear without teary eyes, or a feeling similar to that of anticipation of disappearing entirely I used to say that it were better that I’d not speak unless spoken to, but now I’m not so sure today I thought I’d lost my voice as I waited for you to pick up the phone six rings and I hung up you won’t call back I watched the world wake up while everyone else slept and the light bled through the fog, the color of chrysanthemums all i wanted was to know that I could sleep again, tire again because my heart’s been beating for so long and the sound it’s beginning to define who I am quite simply alive in place more related to a string of pearls, a porcelain key than all the creeps and grows on earth wild and tangled awake and asleep, always singing with the passing of hours I’d rather be put on mute.
And still on a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a gypsy’s ribbon looping the purple moor, The highwayman comes riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred, He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter— Bess, the landlord’s daughter— Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
-The Highwayman’ by Alfred Noyes *
I've got a some news to share with all of you all. I'm going on a holiday this summer. My Dad is taking us (Mom and I) to Europe. We're going going on tour and we'll be covering places like, London,Paris,Germany,Switzerland and Netherlands. So,if anyone of you lives there,I just want to let you know that I'll be visiting your beautiful country! I'm really excited because this the first time that I'll be going to far way places like these and if I'm lucky,maybe, I'll even get to experience a little bit of snow for the first time. My flight is tonight and I'll be away for two weeks. Which means my blog will most probably be dead until I come back.
Please forgive me if I didn't mention about this earlier. Its just that there were many things going on and I wanted to make sure that this trip was really confirm before I said anything to anybody.
So..um,that's about it. I'll promise that when I get back I'll post pictures and I'll make sure I'll really post them this time 'round. I don't want to break my promise like last time.
Have a wonderful and blessed days ahead everyone! :-) (I apologise again I didn't mention this earlier)
I don't mind making jokes, but I don't want to look like one.
I have feelings too. I am still human. All I want is to be loved, for myself and for my talent.
I have too many fantasies to be a housewife. I guess I am a fantasy.
It's not true I had nothing on, I had the radio on.
No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they're pretty, even if they aren't.
It's all make believe, isn't it?
I'm trying to find myself as a person, sometimes that's not easy to do. Millions of people live their entire lives without finding themselves. But it is something I must do. The best way for me to find myself as a person is to prove to myself that I am an actress.
People respect you because they feel you've survived hard times and endured, and although you've become famous, you haven't become phony.
Creativity has got to start with humanity and when you're a human being, you feel, you suffer.
Some people have been unkind. If I say I want to grow as an actress, they look at my figure. If I say I want to develop, to learn my craft, they laugh. Somehow they don't expect me to be serious about my work.
Everyone's just laughing at me. I hate it. Big breasts, big ass, big deal, Can't I be anything else ? Gee, how long can you be sexy?
I knew I belonged to the public and to the world, not because I was talented or even beautiful, but because I had never belonged to anything or anyone else.
Please excuse me as I tend to have many spelling/grammer mistakes.
I do not own any of the pictures,quotes,writings here unless otherwise stated.
Credits goes out to the wonderful owners/websites where I founded them. If they are yours please,please tell me.
I am brutally honest here,so if I offend you in any way,I apologise.
