Phooey! That's about it... just phooey!

The verdict of all that I have recently suffered is that undoubtedly fictional men are much nicer than real men.

Why is that...?

Well, I'd say why not?

I mean, just look at Edward. He says nice things. You may say that real guys are also capable of saying "nice things". But Edward means them... even though he's technically not even alive...

Also, Darcy. He is hotness. Cash and crash all packed together. And he loves Elizabeth not because she's rich and well-bred and of course the favourite- "beautiful". But because she was different.

And Rhett? Of course he wanted the sex. I mean Scarlett was ALL about the sex. But he cared enough to marry her for it even though she was such a tight-ass about it! *grumble* And the he's such an amazing father. That totally made up for his picaresque...

Weasley....

the insensitive wart....

the tactless buffoon...

Ginger-head....

but then, he loved Hermione so much he was EVEN willing to save the house-elves.


*sniff* They just don't make men like them anymore....

Doing some retrospection and I just saw the brighter side of life... my previous entries are in tinted with what I've been feeling, not since forever... but just since a month. A GODDAMN STUPID MONTH!!! x(

I really thought everything would settle with time. That I would find a term to describe this. And that I would get accustomed to this amazing decision that I made.. all BY MYSELF. So I thought that slowling down was the only way to do it...

But I wasn't careful about what I wished for... it came true.

And I realised that I couldn't get enough of the giddy feeling... of how my body would shiver with pleasure, come alive with goosebumps when the gush of hot water would blast me from the hand-shower...

...of all the memories that kept haunting my spaces.

That night I stayed up crying into my pillow because I was hurt and confused and feeling lost. I've always been lost and loved it... but this was the first time I felt scared. Because I thought I could handle it and found that I couldn't. That, I didn't want to be in control... for once in my life I wanted to be blown about and completely swept...

And savour the rush, as from the tempest of the last two months...
But now... its been 20 days of nothingness... of an 'empty space'

Fine then... I'm done moping about this feeling of "neglect"... or finding fault in things that can't help themselves... or people who are as lost as I am... or trying to make sense out of stuff that should be dealt instead with a lemon and a shot of tequila...

Or slowly dying of this great need inside and pretending it doesn't exist-- just like a good little 'Jane Eyre'. I'm done playing Jane... I'm going dump my head and follow my heart...

I'm going to go and let him know.

"Riot" by Three Days Grace ♪♫

If you feel so empty
So used up, so let down
If you feel so angry
So ripped off, so stepped on
You're not the only one
Refusing to back down
You're not the only one
So get up

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

If you feel so filthy
So dirty, so fucked up
If you feel so walked on
So painful, so pissed off
You're not the only one
Refusing to go down
You're not the only one
So get up

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

If you feel so empty
So used up, so let down
If you feel so angry
Just get up

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

Last month I had it all. Everything I could possibly desire from this world. My stars were in place and I was in the sky---

But I feel like Caesar on the ramparts... I have been murdered, brutally murdered inside. It's not just my happiness, but my peace of mind.

I promised myself that before I would take the plunge, I would never give up what I treasure most. And with that assurance.. I did indeed take the plunge. I gave into my heart's deepest desire.

And my mind and soul exploded with the feeling that was generated. I just couldn't believe it, but on the surface I made sure that I'd put up the facade of total control. And so, nobody except me knows exactly how hurt I am right now.

Have you ever seen how a butterfly flies in the warm breeze on a sunny sunflower field... it's frisky and free and beautiful. And most importantly... its alone.

By choice and not my abandonment.

How would you react if someone caught your gossamer wings between their fingers, in a grip so hard that you can't breath for struggling?

And then lifted you out of that field, to hurl you in a wide desolate space without a blade of grass?

Then you'd be cast aside... and not solitary by your own free will. Because when you thought that by inviting someone into your space, you'd have a partner... to see you through the cancerous moments of this life...

What would you do if he ends up, being your cancer?

I'm sure whosoever finds my very first journal entry on Deviant--- is a Deviant or very close to being one.

Having said that I can safely assert that you (my unemployed comrade) have at some point in your life, experienced a zenith.
And its beautiful.

Addictive...?

At precisely that point you are placed on the most dangerous point of the trajectory, teetering into downfall in front of you or a backward motion, and both seem loathsome after the high you've just been feeling.
But sometimes retracing your steps isn't so bad after all...

I'm not as old (in human years) as I sound. On the surface, just your usual nondescript eighteen year old with what people would imagine... limited feminine aspirations.

Haha... just when you thought you had me..

*nyak nyak*

"Limited" is not in my vocabulary... I abhor all restrictions, there shouldn't be any because they don't' lead to anything. They just make people make the same mistakes again and again. And slowly we grow accustomed to those mistakes and call the whole damn thing- "culture"

about the 'feminine' bit... I'm every bit a WOO-MAN that you could find for miles!! Meow

Enough harping--- if you've read so far, thanks.
There's lots more where this came from
So do drop by again, especially when I'm warm in my blankee after a hot shower and a wholesome meal(that I thankfully receive on time)....
at the death of a very loong day when my brain is saturated with somethings to treasure, some to bury, some that are overcome in the blur.

And my only muse is Spirit of the Night, penetrating my senses from the open window, whether the warm sinuous breeze or the incessant pricking bark of a stray dog...

just about as stray as I am...

But as Tolkien said- "Not all who wander, are lost"


Itihna