tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-219652292009-04-08T20:07:24.902+03:00There's Little More For Us To SayYour Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.comBlogger170125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-39706658577570912242007-12-26T18:27:00.000+03:002007-12-26T18:46:10.103+03:00You're Beautiful.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/R3J15APr1eI/AAAAAAAAAAk/w8iR78hv6kM/s1600-h/header2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/R3J15APr1eI/AAAAAAAAAAk/w8iR78hv6kM/s320/header2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148306946216678882" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cosi bella</span>.<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I've moved - long ago...simply a clarification.<br /><br />Clarifications mean <span style="font-size:85%;">well</span>, won't you say.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://puremassacre.com/">www.puremassacre.com</a><br /><br />Don't be a stranger.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">i love you.</span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-3970665857757091224?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-73415180738452752902007-06-12T14:42:00.001+03:002007-06-12T15:39:47.797+03:00Mergeyou bore me.<br /><br />constantly, immeasurably you're insignifcant.<br /><br />left alone in a crowd of fish, frauds and those fakes.<br /><br />whats left of this relationship is this,<br /><br />مساء الخير واحساس والطيبة<br /><br />hmmmm......<br /><br />graduated, and done. a phase over a new start.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-7341518073845275290?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-92224270220888705562007-06-08T19:57:00.000+03:002007-06-08T20:31:20.381+03:00I really Hate Everything about You!!!<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;">You really disappoint</span>, that offset angle is no incident.<br />You are that distortion, in my circle of reality.<br />So kindly gesture your exit, square yourself and leave.<br />You reflect in a mirror so fogged.<br />You're that mere reflection lacking considerable velocity.<br />Mirror shatters, you're once again massacred.<br />Shards of glass embed, you're interference is a dosage<br />lessing.<br />The waves, their amplitude, and you're frequency<br />converse.<br />But gravity gives, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">then you drop</span>.<br />Silence, my muse.<br />Sound muted.<br />in pain and numb.<br />Physically and Mentally<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">gone</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span><br /><br />This is what physics has done to me.<br />I'm in a headache, tired, weary and torn.<br />A pillow, a blanket, lights off....sleeping will be it's cure.<br /><br />Goodnight<br /><br />to you:<br /><br />I really HATE everything about You!!! But life, it goes on.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-9222427022088870556?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-12821413089645682752007-06-06T15:53:00.000+03:002007-06-06T16:06:22.406+03:00Pure and Massacred<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/RmavxvMzIgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/EDCRnA31Yzc/s1600-h/evu_jean_seberg_10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/RmavxvMzIgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/EDCRnA31Yzc/s320/evu_jean_seberg_10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072935299298042370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Just </span>leave a comment,<br /> I swear I don't bite.<br /><br />Just <span style="font-weight: bold;">leave</span> a set of words behind.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-1282141308964568275?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-36090327607420308512007-06-02T04:10:00.000+03:002007-06-02T04:22:51.536+03:00Random Breathing.<span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Sleepless Nights:</span><br /><br />-I'm still <span style="font-style: italic;">breathing</span>, but deep heavy in's and outs.<br /><br />-Graduating in a few....and well I learnt the difference<span style="font-style: italic;"> between</span> frauds, fakes and those fish.<br /><br />-A little bitterness but all love and <span style="font-style: italic;">undying</span> urge - forgiving to forget.<br /><br />-3 finals to do and I'm over and allowed to exasperate on life's <span style="font-style: italic;">joys</span>.<br /><br />-Learning <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>truth about peoples lies is decieving.<br /><br />-A crush is crushed like an ice cube. I was crushed. Thrice.<br /><br />-Hugs aren't free with me, especially <span style="font-style: italic;">pity </span>hugs you require a teddy bear.<br /><br />-Reruns, reloads, reviews, all is a waste <span style="font-style: italic;">of</span> time.<br /><br />-It probably hurts, but I don't feel anything. <span style="font-style: italic;">Numb</span> and<span style="font-style: italic;"> feeling</span> the pain of life.<br /><br />"What would you think of me now...?"<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-3609032760742030851?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-17784384358059294702007-04-04T22:16:00.000+03:002007-04-06T12:06:38.250+03:00You Never Lost Your Grip.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/RhQAuayvMMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_RxCBvxRCIo/s1600-h/dam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dsoYuZmANZY/RhQAuayvMMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_RxCBvxRCIo/s320/dam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049661879655280834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Exactly.<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">I've had my fill...<br /><br />you bore me.<br />i hate you.<br />i live.<br />better, thanks.<br />i'll collect dust.<br />bite my lips.<br /><br />your words are bitter.<br />foul.<br />i let go.<br />you leave.<br />despise.<br />deceit no regrets.<br />eyes blue.<br />scar fresh.<br />carry on.<br /><br />EXACTLY.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">it's been <a href="http://www.puremassacre.com">awhile</a>...</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-1778438435805929470?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-25277309235488007402007-03-06T00:31:00.000+03:002007-03-06T00:40:38.058+03:00You again...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I </span>have moved and <span style="font-weight: bold;">still </span>am not on safat. Argh - I <span style="font-weight: bold;">will</span> add it again<span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span> As I said before, I'll just annoy you by linking my new post at my new home here<br /> <a href="http://www.puremassacre.com/?p=169">domain</a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-2527730923548800740?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-61892828674627824762007-02-27T21:35:00.000+03:002007-02-27T21:41:28.296+03:00Borrowed Time<div class="postentry"> <p>Her hand quakes as the beating in her heart elevates. A mass of unshed tears began to mist her eyes. A growing sensation wonders and the mask she once wore crumbles.</p> <p>It’s over. You’ re a mistake. A figment my muse - a misspelled irrevocable curse. So shed your skin, lather and lash at your breathe as you give into sin. Sit on the cold taunting ground, feel vulnerable. Your heart is split in two and the windows to your soul are fogged. Yet with all you’re in, I feel not a thing. Again, nothing at all. An empty and void feeling - stale as you broke apart.</p> <p>Her heart stings Her lips dry. Her voice is mute and her breathing stops. His words dagger into her heart. She lies motionless on the ground.</p> <p>She died before him, but he just walked away.</p> <p>The scene ends <strike>all but lacking hate</strike>.</p><br /><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">______</p><p>until i am officially on safat, i guess i will copy paste my posts from my new home to this old and hideous location i call temporary ;)<br /></p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-6189282867462782476?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1171751032778030632007-02-18T01:15:00.000+03:002007-02-18T01:24:51.880+03:00Pure Massacre<a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/275102/07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/276367/07.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"><a href="http://puremassacre.com/">www.puremassacre.com</a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Since I've been awhile and I'm dead tired....i will reuse an old post that was untouched. ;)</span><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;" align="right"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>I lie on the brown wooden boards, the floor quakes with my elusive weight. I am not that fat, but the rats are pulling leverage. I am sinking, engulfed by the droplets of rat fleshes eroding me. Minutes passed, but I grow accustomed now, my faint screams are slowly tranquil. You no longer hear my moans and shrieks. I am holding myself back and taking the scene in. I rewind the steps to how I was brought to this fate. As the rats scrap my soft creamy skin and chew on my tainted flesh, I drift in a sea of thoughts. I am a rat myself<span dir="ltr" style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>. A voice beckons me forward and my memories evade.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>I join them now, as they feast on my body. Blood is lost but pleasure somewhat gained. I lose everything within the moment but a spark set fire to my pores - I watch as skin burns. Dead flesh dries, and bulges of red spots appear. The water, no mistaken, their piss drowns me deep. But no one saves me, so I just adjust and breathe it all in.<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>No sensation devours my being, just utter disgust and loathing. It was all because of you.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><o:p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-117175103277803063?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1170967933175053982007-02-08T23:49:00.000+03:002007-02-08T23:52:16.813+03:00I Was Born Today, "Do you give a ...."?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/407297/marilyn__by_moumine.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/882735/marilyn__by_moumine.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="center">I’m eighteen today. It’s my birthday!</p> <p align="center">It feels like any other kind of day.</p> <p align="center">Nose is cold, Throat is throbbing and Voice is muting….(i,m dead tired even after yesterday’s sleep from 5pm to 9am today)</p> <p align="center">I guess I’ll just wait…nothing changed</p><p align="center">any other kind of day</p><p align="center">no candles were blown- this means i'm too old to....</p> <p align="center">Never Mind</p><p align="center">Love,</p> <p align="center"> A Battlefield Eighteen AWAITING your something.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-117096793317505398?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1170448083044798172007-02-04T23:23:00.000+03:002007-02-04T23:29:26.163+03:00I've Moved and TURNED ONEThanks to my beloved, charming, smart, genius-like, impossibly beautiful sister, <a href="http://couchavenue.com">Jacqui</a>, I have moved to my new domain:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://puremassacre.com">www.PureMassacre.com</a></span><br /></div><br /><a href="http://couchavenue.com">Jacqui</a> bought me the domain a few minutes ago and transferred me there, of course you won't find this post there but you will find everything else. Now I will have to learn how to use Wordpress but that'll be a piece of cake with the help of the ever genius-like and guru-like <a href="http://couchavenue.com">Jacqui</a>.<br /><br />P.S. This post was written by <a href="http://couchavenue.com">Jacqui</a> herself because she basically took over everything in my life. Yes I am no longer my own person.<br /><br />Oh yeah and Jacqui ROCKS! So update yourselves.<br /><br />P.P.S MY BLOG TURNED ONE TODAY.....so check out my latest posts at my new domain.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-117044808304479817?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1170432258942749692007-02-02T18:16:00.000+03:002007-02-02T19:10:34.750+03:00A Voice Craving Her Innocence as a Smirk Betrays Undefined Revenge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/737845/359617849_ab1470e0d2_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/847284/359617849_ab1470e0d2_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">February, a mere unrequitted month of quite a many happenings, whats coming up for me is the following:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Feb 4 : my blogger turns this many ( aye, oh darn just a year old, shouldnt that be encouraging huh, I 've stayed on board for a full year give or take a few days where I wanted out but I stayed...shame, regret, mistake, past is a pardon, future spoken..i will continue blogging and perhaps get me own better fulfuling relationship without blogger, rather with my own domain and a little help from me angelic sisters (the techie marvel n the photoshop darling)</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />Feb 5: my youngster baby sister i will always call baby turns the big five, yes five years old, all the years for her inshallah...she loves birthdays each and every one though she wasnt born on those days she wants someone to sing happy to you sometimes everyday. ;) + its a day i might if the probabilty of an algebraic equation equates to my terms, I might fall into a ditch ( a pun, my play of words so it seems vague to you ;)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Feb 8: I am legal to live, I turn eighteen finally, although I much wish to stay seventeen because I am a fan of odd numbers that communicate well without evoking buried souviners of well, somethings that dont wish to be recollected from time to time. Anyways, I need to get a drivers permit, learn to drive, though I master the art of driving from when I was a wee bit old, cuz I've witnessed sisters and there driving experience, I know how to navigate my way with a vehicle and that nonsense. Being Eighteen means one thing, the mile I am walking towards the reach goal, is finally nearing to the end, and graduation will be soon. I can't wait to wrap up with highschool and keep walking forward, not glancing or turning back.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Long post, ugly looking blog site, I hope it eventually undergoes some glamour quite soon if everything unfolds to my perspective.<br /><br />I forgot to mention, this....</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />There all is out in the open, what's significant?</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-117043225894274969?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1167872947239574162007-01-23T04:01:00.000+03:002007-01-23T00:15:16.793+03:00Ps: I'll draft you to save and not post to publish ;)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/878858/SD-Darkness_Shining_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/93056/SD-Darkness_Shining_01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Below was me in a state of oblivous emotion carelessly thinking ......and the date to be exact was Jan 4., without question all that is below has changed a day after I wrote this and when was the certifed verification well i realized it no the next day or the next week but today, January 22...damn how cruel life can get. but i will just torch that fire thats blazing on my skin and look towards the path....with a wounded heart thats still beating forcefully. life doesnt end with this. it should and i will not let it do so.<br /><br />Here was what i wrote: 01/04/2007<br /><br />I am inhaling a substance of ectasy it's un-natural, quite delusional to this mind but dont focus here, just understand I am in mere unsubtile, untranslated bliss. A language can not certify the speed my heart is beating. Words scripted on a letter have brought waves of smiles to my lips. Yes, mistaken, I am adjourning a path that is leading forward. Yet come what may, even detection of what is thought, I will and shall not forget this feeling. This emotion well built, that withstands tears and burns that may attach to this body. Come what may, I am truly in love...God bless this '07. I hope this is no bad omen or just fate wanting to dally with me and teasing me ferciously.<br /><br />Best be it now, I am rising in your winter sky... yes this Battle Field is and forever will be her own....hmph I'm lost without words now, then let me be off to sleep...I will keep this a secret to my eyes...and it is vague to you viewer, I call now mistaken ;)<br /><br />Ps: I'll draft you to save and not post to publish ;)<br /><br /><br />ANYWAYS, life goes on....one more exam to go and im free and the mattress and the covers will comfort and lavish me through times....all i need are two straight days of only sleep. no interaction or anything. i can live that way you know.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116787294723957416?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1169288604896902422007-01-20T13:31:00.000+03:002007-01-20T14:00:13.020+03:00Through Glass - Scar - Mark - Carry On<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/418254/evolution3_zoom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/3264/evolution3_zoom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I am </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);">high</span> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">on smiles</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"></span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There's been a change </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);">in</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> my plans coursing this life</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">Navagation</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> set to ever last<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/114431/MVC-028S.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/821798/MVC-028S.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Nothing</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, not you or her or him or a mixture of persons can wreck my ship</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I am baffled with illustrations and what not of what </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);">if</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">s</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I am swimming life jacket </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51);">less</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Intoxicated</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> with the smell of this serene cold foul tasting water evoking my flesh</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">I</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> am in love with life</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">best </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">leave</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> me enjoy these moments</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">cuz</span><br />:*****************************<br /><br />anyways back to reality<br />downside of my happiness one final down three MORE to go....:)<br /><br />btw my blog is looking strange its cuz of complications with my precious host<br />i guess it will be back to usual when it wishes ;)<br />i dont mind i hope you dont as well<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116928860489690242?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1167603153948614782007-01-01T01:07:00.000+03:002007-01-01T01:32:08.040+03:00I Hate Everything About You.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/613195/IMGP2652-600x400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/833295/IMGP2652-600x400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">A</span> story </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >I once told, <font>a</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" ><font><font><font> fate</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><font><font><font><font><font> controlled. Breathe in, vomit lust. A fact to consider - love destructs. Pain awaits; tears a many turn vain. Two hearts convulse, shatter as glass and break. Now shudder and lick the ground. Tongue bleeds, bruised lips. Square one, you hurt; I exist.<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />I</span> lock you in - <span style="font-weight: bold;">imprison you</span>. Now bend to your knees, grieve with me. Moan the aches, cry out - lash pain and whip my skin. Lust, emerge, stop constraining with '06.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>A mile to walk, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">a day erased</span>. Graduation awaits. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Lujain/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/921531/black_and_white_butterfly_by_m3ntalysan3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/454770/black_and_white_butterfly_by_m3ntalysan3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Your Battlefield, hints in her own language 2oo6 was not wonderful, rather undesirable, unlovable, as of yet despicable. It was a year she dreads but it did benefit...it molded her to a better self. It was merciless and spit the unlikeable truth. Frauds, Fakes, and Fish. ;)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Now</span> she bids you adieu, <span style="font-weight: bold;">goodnight</span> with respect, good luck.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116760315394861478?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1167254498840405202006-12-28T18:12:00.000+03:002006-12-28T19:47:27.593+03:00A Shade Of Brown Tears<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/833871/yourface.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/987952/yourface.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="right">I lie on the brown wooden boards, the floor quakes with my elusive weight. I am not that fat, but the rats are pulling leverage. I am sinking, engulfed by the droplets of rat fleshes eroding me. Minutes passed, but I grow accustomed now, my faint screams are slowly tranquil. You no longer hear my moans and shrieks. I am holding myself back and taking the scene in. I rewind the steps to how I was brought to this fate. As the rats scrap my soft creamy skin and chew on my tainted flesh, I drift in a sea of thoughts. I am a rat myself. A voice beckons me forward and my memories evade.<span style="" lang="AR-KW"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="right"><span style="" lang="AR-KW"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I join them now, as they feast on my body. Blood is lost but pleasure somewhat gained. I lose everything within the moment but a spark set fire to my pores, I watch as skin burns. Dead flesh dries, and bulges of red spots appear. The water, no mistaken, their piss drowns me deep. But no one saves me, so I just adjust and breathe it all in. No sensation devours my being, just utter disgust and loathing. It was all because of you.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But now, you're Forgiven.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">_______</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">it's been awhile</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">quite awhile am i missed? :)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">anyways,...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">till the next</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">we meet</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"></span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"></span></div><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51);"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="text-align: left;" align="right"><span dir="ltr" style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116725449884040520?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1166807251259306122006-12-22T19:55:00.000+03:002006-12-22T20:12:04.246+03:00"The Night Will Go As Follows..."<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/402200/perfume_poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/611455/perfume_poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I've finished a box of tissues.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sniff, snort, sneeze and then bless me</span>. I hate it when I get sick in the wrong circumstances, locations and for the wrong reasons. It is totally deteriating my schedule of events, if any penciled in. Anyways, I have much to do but I have no idea where to start.<br /><br />I was also wondering, if I should keep blogging, cause I think the experience was in of the moment...and its wearing off. Thus, <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">the limelight is fading slowly</span> and I cant seem to ascertain the real reason why I started blogging. Since this, everything has gone down hill, I have no flourescent instincts dying to blurt out the facts...I will end this post with...<br /><br />My comments have been slowly diminishing, no one comments and I am I guess a little sad but who gives a damn anymore, I know I long before gave up giving one at all. So dear reader, whoever you may be...<span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I am sneezing, coughing and feeling a sort of serenity</span>.<br /><br /><br /><br />This post was pointless....<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116680725125930612?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1166570936897758332006-12-20T02:45:00.000+03:002006-12-20T03:14:55.483+03:00Short Lived<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/156632/696218_170x170.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/215968/696218_170x170.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">your image i take</span><br />shred it to pieces<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">cut it to bits</span><br />put it to my lips<br />open then swallow<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">till it never exists</span><br /><br />-your battlefield<br /></div><br />****<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Technically, there are 12 more hours till officially winter break(ing) begins. The problem is today is filled with too much going on. An essay, drawings, and a test. Also, a short fieldtrip and I hope I make it back in time to do that test or else I would get a big fat zero. </span>Onwards, apparently we're going to the cinema and here and there. I am by no means in any mood wanting to go anywhere, what I want is this? <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">The window shutters to be closed, the door to be closed, me under the covers and asleep till god knows when. I want to sleep, I do not care to awaken, because in slumber I find so much more than in reality. So I will keep dreaming till one day, a dream takes my life away...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">btw i havent slept yet so i'm guessing i will be awake for the next give or take 20 hours.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116657093689775833?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1166407353683878762006-12-18T04:50:00.000+03:002006-12-18T05:16:18.950+03:00I Slept Like A Baby, How'd You Sleep?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3571/2228/1600/7770.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/542460/7770.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">stop this temptation, let me awaken.</span><br /><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">for the past two days, actually let me be more precise, for the past 48 hours i've slept for only 9 (NINE). I am feeling low on energy and any sudden movement might break a ligament :)...i just cant wait till tuesday when tests are out of schedule and i will fall back on my bed, and dream of dreams. I might even sleep for 24 hours straight wake up for a few do this and that and then fall back to sleep.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I CRAVE SLEEP</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I DEMAND IT</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I NEED SLEEP INSURANCE. (??)</span><br /></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">it;s close to 5 am, havent finished studying, didnt do any homework so i'm guessing this is my first ever time...thus, will show up at 9ish and with that i will be ready from my exam thats at 11am</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">i just hope i dont sleep whlist recieving the test....that would be a bummer, downer and a waste of the past day spent cramming and trying to learn something that i vow to forget in an hours time period...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">lesson learned: never be absent, in absence...one finds not nothing, one finds everything.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">BRIGHTSIDE: Sister is inshallah arriving today, its been so long since we last seen each other....:)</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116640735368387876?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1166108029736924852006-12-14T17:28:00.000+03:002006-12-14T17:53:49.763+03:006 days, 6 weeks, 6 years, 6 lives.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/995379/Hiding_Tears_by_porcelainveins.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/664626/Hiding_Tears_by_porcelainveins.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">I'm counting down the days....</span><br /></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">To think weekends were meant to end the tiresome gutwrenching 5 days and to have your own blissful escape just 2 days.... Right this moment, my weekend is by no means a week END. Its the start of yet another irrevocable battle field. ;) I have to write a paper, make a poster, study for tests, do useless homework, draw, draw, read, rework,study again...find time to sleep in between.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Damn I have so much more to do.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6 days till Winter Break (ing)</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />1 day till Eruption</span><br /><br />in <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">other news, i am suprised, astonished, mind baffled from certain events that took place in the last few days...intrigued is the word to settle all the cirucmstances.</span> <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">a lifetime to notice, a day to erase, a minute to evoke, seconds to forget,</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />your some- body.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />i wont love ever-more.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116610802973692485?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1165958913245121862006-12-13T00:03:00.000+03:002006-12-13T00:28:33.273+03:00YOU SEE NOTHING<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/28918443/?qo=20&q=boost%3Apopular+in%3Atraditional%2Fpaintings%2Fportraits+eyes"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/170489/Shining_Eyes_by_weeddemon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>one more day<br /><br />wednesday: physics quiz<br />religion test<br />tuesday: was dead to the world( slept, barfed, slept (sick)<br />monday: most of the time- at nurse (headache)<br />sunday: a battle emerging in my head (pain)<br />saturday: beautiful breeze<br /><br />hint hint my week began with a breeze, will end with a disaster<br /><br />one more week to go<br />one more<br />one more<br />say it with me<br />ONE FREAKING MORE<br />i hope i can make it till then<br /><br />i hate it when i get sick<br />have i mentioned how<br />i dislike when someone asks me 'are you sick?'<br />could you not tell from my varnished eyes, and my tense face<br />my face was pale<br />i was in pain<br />am i that hard to figure???<br />the question by the way,<br /> only increases the chances of me barfing on you. (dear asker)<br /><br />lesson one: never ask me something when my face is not colored and my words are mumbled<br /><br />now, i will turn back to my books - torn pages- studying or better yet memorizing for my tests.<br /><br />wish me luck.<br /><br />:(<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116595891324512186?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1165794407829350022006-12-11T02:15:00.000+03:002006-12-11T02:46:47.856+03:00I'm Only Seventeen !!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/955302/in%20two.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/131181/in%20two.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;">WINTER BREAK - ing (10 days)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">but before relaxation, i'm stuck with this</span><br /></div> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. blinded by tests</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />2. freaking -boring- projects</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. treachorous -unforsaken- labs</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />4. useless crappy -defeaning- homework</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />5. too many drawings to do -sore-</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />6. no escapism within novels-argh-</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />7. the above all becuz winding down to vacation</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />8. everyone is deciding that now is the perfect time to barf information and binge on studying...could they not have made something workable for both sides....and not cramming everything in one week. screw the mastermind</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />9. i hate but that has subsided</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />10. i now just carry on, dont give a damn anymore. how many days till grad.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />11. standing in the rain, mindlessly, waiting, i want to repeat that cycle. i lived the moment. can i be refilled soon, ?.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />12. sleep. sleep. sleep. eat. sleep. sleep. sleep. sleep. sleep. live. sleep. eat. sleep. sleep. draw<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">13. i was cheated, winter break is just two freaking weeks </span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />14. i trust, once vacation drags on, i will be too fulfilled by sleep....will probably screw up my sleeping habiat. as if it isnt screwed already?.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">15. i think i will rest with the number 17'</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />16. am i boring you?</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />17. i dont care ;)</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116579440782935002?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1165332842133834172006-12-05T17:55:00.001+03:002007-04-06T12:34:15.570+03:00Without Regards<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/711096/686845.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/188344/686845.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I stood on a platform,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">As he assessed my composure</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I relaxed my posture,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Stared intently at his gaze</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">He noticed my indifference-</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Pitied my solemn state</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">My frock he destroyed,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Shredding to bare my skin</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I felt not a thing,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Numb in course</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Night and Day-</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">No difference</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Once again;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I live.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">-your battlefield</span><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116533284213383417?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1165196172767452472006-12-04T04:34:00.000+03:002006-12-04T04:36:12.796+03:00ONE THING IS CLEAR.....<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/200951/BirthDuck.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/263491/BirthDuck.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/246332/004thumb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/825616/004thumb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACQUI</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I LOVE YOU</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">so shall we get 23 candles</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">hence, oldie save your breathe</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">you need to blow out that much...:)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">anyways....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">have a belated day</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);">DUCKIE</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116519617276745247?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21965229.post-1165000519505521622006-12-01T21:14:00.000+03:002006-12-01T22:23:37.450+03:00You're Clawing At My Throat, And You're Crying...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/1600/556953/lessons%20learned.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3571/2228/320/191312/lessons%20learned.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica;"><span style=""><br />Now you act suprised<br />To hear what you already knew<br />When all you ever had to do was ask<br />I'd have told you straight away<br />That all those lies were truth<br />And all that was false, was fact...<br /><br />So why is it now after I had my fill<br />You steal sorrow I have earned<br />Shall we call this a lesson learned...<br /><br />Ray Lamotagne - lessons learned (incomplete lyrics)<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica;"><span style="">******</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica;"><span style=""><br />I've concluded a phase in life, no turning back and assessing faults and blunders that rattled me merciously this present year. I am also looking forward to concluding the phase of high school because to matter with facts, I dont feel anything more towards it. Numb in feeling, just study, eat, sleep, Repeat the cycle.<br /><br />I found this year to be a total nightmare. I hope nothing of its sort accompanies the next year because I just dont have the energy to deal with it anymore. Anyways, I will reduce the honesty I seem to let seep through my fingers easily to the computer screen and just wish you pleasant sleep.<br /><br />Battle Field, with intricate chaos...what would you say???<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21965229-116500051950552162?l=whisperintomysoul.blogspot.com'/></div>Your Battlefieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06831363513678035066noreply@blogger.com2