I'm hearing myself think too clearly.

Life is a blast. Life is a song. Life is a dance. Most importantly to me, LIFE IS ART. And oh, I really do love sunny drawings.
-That's me

I know it's gonna be ok.

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Collecting a jar of hearts.

Shini Tina Yentung 209'10 NHHS 310'11 NHHS

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“life will be better in spring”
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Thursday, September 30, 2010 || 10:00 PM

... ... ...

When will someone even understand.


|| 8:01 PM

The man heard a giggle.
"One. Two.."
The blindfold over his eyes kept him from being able to see the person who had just spoken, only hearing a closer snickering.
"Say it louder."
"Three. Four..." came the first, sweeter voice. For some reason, it taunted him.
It said he was dreaming. This wasn't real...
His back collided with the hard ground underneath suddenly, the closet voice shouting in a sing-song voice, "hit the floor!"
This one made him feel like he was being mocked.
Ignore the sweet voice.
He felt something cold pressed against his chest. You're gonna die, he thought to himself; it was an understatement to say he felt afraid.
"Five. Six," giggled the sweeter one again. "Seven. Eight!"
"Now let's-"
The dark words in his ear-"Repeat again."-almost made him cry.
"W-what are you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
He heard an evil giggle as he felt a blade dig deeper into his chest, and then, "one, two. Say it louder. Three, four. Hit the floor. Five, six, seven, eight. Now let's repeat again."


|| 7:53 PM

I like to look at you. It's like looking in a mirror, and I love it. But I hate you.


Almost told you I loved you
|| 7:42 PM

You don't want me, not really. And you certainly don't need me. I hurt you, in every possible way. I can see it in your eyes. I use you, make you feel bad about yourself. You love me in spite of it though.

The words form on my tongue, but I bite them back before they have a chance to escape. I don't love you. I don't. Love is weakness. I am not weak. I curse myself; I can feel your tenderness, your love. It makes my chest ache.

I don't love how I'm the only one that gets you to show emotion. And I especially don't love how it makes me feel when you tell me you love me.


|| 6:50 PM










With love,
The author

Wednesday, September 29, 2010 || 10:55 PM

Well, I like dreams. For probably one reason and one alone. Well, that's sort of for me to know and you to find out. But ah well, there are always those bad dreams too. But whatever...I'd risk anything to be with you even if it weren't real...

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Tina Liow Jia Zhen
|| 9:34 PM


Happy 14th birthday. Ok, maybe, 79th year birthday but whatever. O: Thanks for being such an awesome mugger (something I can never do). O: LOL.

10 things I like about you:

1)Hmmm...we have retarded bus rides :D
2)We sorta, kinda, always end up going home/shopping together. O:
4)Your damn weird overheated hair. O:
5)How you love only people's whose names start with "B"
6)How you fail-y tried to lock me in the toilet
7)You seem to think I want to rape you when all I ever did was push you to the ground cuz you said you wanted to lay down ==
8)Your fail sense of creativity
9)You're a princss. O: (cuz you're married to Bel or something like that O:)
10)...come on, we send the dumbest smses.

Well, even though you're a mao pai huo, I still love you. O: And LOl, I'm sorry for ruining your "reputation"... 8D (well, yentung did most of it).

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|| 9:23 PM

I had never considered myself even remotely sane, not in the slightest, but I'm pretty sure nobody else did either. I figured I was going to live out my life as normal (or in my terms anyway) as possible. Of course, I had no idea that a simple meeting could turn into such a heavy source of my confusion.

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|| 8:45 PM

It was all he heard. He did not even have time to pull out his own gun.

He stared, wide eye at the man who shot him. The black-haired man never flinched as some of his victim's own blood splattered across his face…he just smiled…smiled as he sent his victim into darkness. His moon was fading in his small world.

A wind blew in through the open window next to man's desk, bringing in small pink petals to dance with his brown hair, the sweet scent filling his senses.

Sakura blossoms, his mind told him.

I'm sorry…

The world began to darken when he landed with a thud on the cold floor.

"Good night," the smiling man said cruelly as he began to chuckle like a mad man.

His eye lids felt so heavy…he felt so tired.

Looks like I'm breaking our promise...for now.

He could not take it anymore so he let his eyes close shut to dream…to dream of his moon one last time.


"Ahahahah...," she laughed when I twirled her around, "what is this rhythm?"

"Samba" I chuckled, probably at how childish she looked, "do you like it?"

She nodded as she followed my steps almost perfectly, "it's funny."

"Want to try another song?"

"Yeah, again…and again," she smiled, "forever..."

-End of flashback-

One final smile curved the his lips before death finally came to claim his tired soul. His only light faded and his world was engulfed by calming darkness.

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|| 8:15 PM

...Chelsea, I don't know if you'll ever see this or whatever but...please, do not say I always go solo. Cuz I don't. Really. I've never felt alone because I'm always thinking, always feeling, always imagining. It's...hard to say.


|| 8:08 PM

You once asked me how I wanted to die but when I told you, you gently smacked me on the head. Just once...

And for the first time ever, you walked away.

There had been no sweet romance between us but at least, we both knew that all humans were nothing but lies.

They all told me that I was going mad, that I was a sheep following after a wolf, that it would only end in more pain and grief.

How much pain had we gone through? How much madness had we endured together? Surely, I was allowed that last bit of madness; it gave me what little pleasure I could find.

...no, I was not in love. It was only a maddening lust, a hobby; just something to pass the time, keep the insanity at bay.

I was going crazy, thoughts and memories bombarding my mind and I knew that it was no longer just lust.

That day, you asked me how I wanted to die...

Back then, I had not taken it seriously. I thought it was just another one of your games, another one of your mad questions. But now, I think I've found the answer.

I would like for you to kill me. Maybe you would understand. Maybe you would not. But for now, let's dance to this insane tune of ours. We'll keep living, keep dancing, keep existing, far past the borders of madness until all sense of reality has slipped away and all that matters is us.

It was a wild dance of chaos, of harmonized insanity; it was pure madness.

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Tuesday, September 28, 2010 || 10:19 PM

This love, it was a true romance

How the plot's thick and twisted

Too good to be real

Too real to be fake

I swear you'll be the death of me; all this friction created generates too much heat.

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|| 10:02 PM

He sat behind his office desk, pouring over a rapidly crumbling mountain of paperwork. Boredly going over each of the documents and utilizing his stamp of approval or rejection whenever necessary.

He'd been stuck up in this room for the better part of the day. And the lack of stimuli was really starting to get to him.

He needed a break from it all.

But sadly, he just could not afford to stop his efforts midway. Or else the work would once again pile up, and he would be stuck here for the night as well.

Dammit all.

He yawned and propped his head up with his left hand. Feeling his eyes growing heavier and heavier by the second as he continued working on autopilot.

Being a wealthy plutocrat definitely had its drawbacks.


|| 9:57 PM

Ignorance is in essence… a quietly overlooked, irrationally embellished… comfortably downplayed, bridge to hell... and only the most unfortunate of souls do find themselves traveling unwittingly down it.


|| 9:55 PM

Emotions are like the weather, in that you cannot predict them.

They are always there, always changing.

Sometimes they bring sunshine… other times they bring storms.

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Sadistic me O:
|| 9:51 PM

"It's funny how someone can break your heart, and yet you can still love them with all the little pieces."

"Actually, I think it's kinda sad."

"Oh? Well then, you obviously have no sense of humor."

"….is that so?"

"Yes. Indeed."

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|| 9:50 PM

Our ability to selectively engage and disengage our moral standards helps explain how people can be dreadfully cruel in one moment, and compassionate in the next.


|| 9:46 PM

I bet you never knew just how deeply my river ran for you.

For if you did, then surely you never would have dared to cross it.

Fearing you'd go under as well and be dragged back to the innermost depths of hell…

Ps, I somehow thought of this while playing River Flows In You by Yiruma.

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|| 9:00 PM

I wish, some of my dreams could turn to reality.


|| 5:52 PM

She softly murmured repeatedly like an incantation as she continued to caress the now-pale face of a young man not much older than she was. He had long brown locks that reached past his small, fragile shoulders. His alabaster skin, which was once flushed with color, was now covered with a gray pallor; yet if one looks closely at his face, he or she might have mistaken him as if he were only but sleeping—what with the serene and melancholic smile that graced his peaceful features. Yes, he looks like a sleeping angel awaiting the coming of a new dawn to announce his wake. But it was not to be. The sleep which had blanketed him like the night sky is one of eternal oblivion; a sleep from which there is no waking or returning from; a sleep which we all refer to by the name "death".

The raven-haired girl who knelt by the side of the coffin continued on murmuring to the corpse that lay in front of her; as if trying to reawaken the dead with whispered songs of lamentation. Hidden beneath her pallid bangs were a pair of amethyst orbs filled with strong self-loathing and hopeless longing as she looked upon the person she had deemed the most important to her life. She knew that her efforts were in vain; for once a being has passed on, there is no turning back—second chances never existed nor will it ever exist in this world. Nonetheless, she continued on with her voiceless words in hopes that the other might hear her desperate cries of apology; cries that she hoped would bring much needed salvation to his tainted soul.

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|| 5:42 PM

The strange feeling of being suddenly whole (had he been empty this entire time, then?) felt alike to his mother's rare kisses to the forehead for scoring a very high mark on his tests; or his father's even rarer hugs for making him proud by impressing his colleagues with his outstanding knowledge in their work—or both, only a lot more intense. It felt a lot like that day so many years ago, the last day both his parents and older sister had gotten together for a family picnic and spent the whole day together with him without anything to interrupt their time together. No work, not their social lives, nothing. That had been more than a decade ago, and they had not spent any time together—the four of them—ever since.

He felt happy.

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|| 5:04 PM

A voice, smooth like velvet, whispered in the darkness. So melodic and gentle as if soothing even if, in fact, it was nothing more than words of poison. The only audience's thin hands tightened, nails digging into his own skin as intense stench of blood filled the air – as sweet as it was nauseating. The world had become red…just like the blood dripping down, off his face.

That disgusting dulcet voice kept whispering his name over and over…just like the clinking of the cold metal chains that rang non-stop. In the darkness that devil whispered sweet, acidic words, and becoming more and more audible was the sound of hastened breathing. It was getting louder and louder, for he could not stop it anymore…as if…to convince him…

The very evidence of his defeat.

Fresh, warm blood tricked down his face, pooling on the solid stone floor.

More and more droplets ran down dripping – all bloody red. The captive, bound in the darkness, only replied with a smile that could not reach eyes – the color of the sky itself – for he was again reminded how much he hated this world…and the true darkness that resided in it.


Love you to death
|| 4:55 PM

This post is dedicated to my chio husband cuz she keeps asking me to write. O: Pardon my fail naming sense please and I know this is horribly exaggerated but, who cares.

He merely turned back to her, "I know, Ethan. I know what you're thinking, and I know I'm standing right in front of your plans." He made a move suddenly, his body twisting back as if to attack his twin brother, and a gunshot rang out clearly even amidst the chaos around them. His comrades, or whatever they called themselves, all paused to stare in shock as Tom's body stilled abruptly, red beginning to blossom from his chest, staining the pristine white suit he wore easily.

Ethan's eyes were wide; the claws Tom wore right in front of his face, mere centimeters away from ripping his face out. This was another moment, where the world paused, adding the dramatic effects as Tom fell back, straight into Alice's arms, whose face had turned pale immediately upon witnessing the blood that could not seemed to stop.

"Y-You knew..." Ethan uttered out, "B-But if you knew... Then... Why?" Tom merely smiled, his hands clutching at Alice's white dress, staining it red with his blood and he looked up at her, "hey Alice..." He coughed, blood dripping down his mouth, and everyone knew he was reaching his end, "if I were to die, would you die with me?"

Alice's eyes widened, her pupils dilated, before a sudden calm seemed to reach her, and an insane craze consumed his mind, "Of course, Tom. No matter where you go, be it heaven or hell, I'll go with you. I'll always be with you..." And with that, she swiftly brought a gun out from her pocket, and another gun shot rang across the field, this time stopping all battles as they turned as one, to stare at the scene before them.

Tom smiled, as Alice slumped across him, "because I am yours, and will forever be... You'll never share me..." He murmured and his voice, although soft, seemed to echo and reach everybody's ears. Tom's eyes slid close, and his hand fell, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

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Food for thought (:
Monday, September 27, 2010 || 9:22 PM

KEKEKEKE...food for thought. d:

Never try to forget something, no matter how much you want to. There’s a reason why your mind won’t let it go, even if your heart has. Your memories always serve a purpose, whether you know it or not, and you can’t fight that.

One more thing, for people who think they've lost something, let me tell you a secret. (: Real loss only comes after you lose something more important than yourselves. It's something I've come to learn.

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|| 9:18 PM

"The authentic self is the best part of a human being. It's the part of you that already cares, that is already passionate about evolution. When your authentic self miraculously awakens and becomes stronger than your ego, then you will truly begin to make a difference in this world. You will literally enter into a partnership with the creative principle."
~Andrew Cohen~

Someone, anyone, what does that mean?

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Raison d'etre
|| 8:12 PM

It is happening again: you and I facing each other in a game of life and death. How many times has it occurred? 2000? 3000? I've lost count.

Even at his death, the sun refused to dim its radiant glory. The smoke of his incineration joined the clouds, offering him no compassion in their unison. And the sky looked down from its lofty throne, untroubled by the quotidian affairs of humans.

The fire is still crackling − I know that. I see the flame devouring my body. I am aware that my flesh is crumbling into ashes. And yet, why do I hear nothing? Nor can I feel any pain. I close my eyes and my thoughts drift back to you...you were my inevitable dulcet and irrevocable dolour, my quenching feast and plaguing famine, my treasured soul mate and irreplaceable adversary ... my one and only raison d'être. Without you, I can feel nothing.

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|| 7:19 PM

Maybe I never needed a prince cuz you were always there. I never envied the princesses in fairytales...

It was us, and only us, but somehow...


Family portrait
|| 6:56 PM

"Sweet heart, baby are you alright?" she asked, gently pulling him onto her lap,"sweet heart, say something."'

"My head hurts," he whispered softly, still staring at his father. The broken picture frame lay next to him. The glass covering was shattered, and the frame bent. The picture, one of them all together at the park, lay scratched and torn within the mutilated frame.

"Don't worry sweet heart; we'll get you to a hospital right away," she stood, her son in her arms, and paused only to grab her purse and slip on a pair of sandals. They left the house, mother running in her short stepped, fast paced fashion. The house, in which he had grown up in; got smaller and smaller the farther they went. He watched it disappear into the distance over his mother's shoulder, terrified that father would appear. Only when it had vanished from sight did he relax and let the sweet darkness overtake him.


For you, I'll willingly turn into snow
|| 5:54 PM

Walking towards the patient on the bed, he allowed himself to sit on the bed, a hand softly caressing the girl's cheek before placing it gently across her forehead.

Feeling warmth on her cheeks, she struggled to grasp the vision of the figure standing in front of her. Her breathing became even hollower by the second.

He said nothing. Allowing the room to be filled with the desperate breaths of the girl who had collapsed in front of him. The dancing petals of snow, drifting in silently from the tiny hole in the room.

Instinctively, he kneeled down, reaching out to grab the girl in front of him before embracing her tightly.

Skin colder than the ice cold stone wall voluntarily took the warmth from him. Hands as soft as snow slowly tightened their grip on the warm boy, burying her head into his shoulder. Her breaths hitching, loud and panting as she held on.

She had not expected to see this person for she had expected to whither away alone, coldly, deserted, sinking slowly into the shadows. She wasn't supposed to be in this person's arms. She was not supposed to be embraced with such warmth that enveloped him so. She wasn't supposed to be doing this. It was sinful. Struggling with the abrupt realisation, She managed to weakly push herself away from the warm person she longed for, even if this was all just in her head.

"I don't deserve this," she whispered the only explanation she could find as she took great effort to even breath.

It came as simply a shock to the boy who kneeled there, thoughts over filling his head, not able to understand the action of the brunette. Her indecisiveness drove him into confusion. He narrowed his eyes as he kept watching, with silence.

Her world growing dimmer by the second, Hikari decided to take one last glance at the person who haunted her so.

Upon seeing the betrayed, forgiving and understanding pair of onyx eyes, he could not stop himself from reaching out for the lone girl once more, holding her tightly, closing their proximity. Whispering soft apologies, he was sincere. The soft breaths against his neck became paler as the trickles of tears rolled down her cheeks dripping gently onto his neck.

Holding tightly onto his coat, the girl mumbled in a tone that seemed so satisfied yet hesitant, the guilt still lingering in her eyes, "for you, I'll willingly turn into snow."

"Don't sleep, don't sleep, wake up, stop sleeping!" gasped the anxious boy, his voice filled with concern, yet deep inside, he knew it'd have turned out like this, one way or another.

He looked at the girl as she slowly placed a cold hand against the his cheek, slowly pulling himself up to whisper five last words.

He had vowed to never cry. But he could do nothing to stop the trails of tears in this scenario as he held the limp body of Hikari inside of the small confined room.

A lifeless doll. A cold shell. What was once so bright, now tumbling down the stairs into darkness; confined. Watch as the innocent snow slowly flitters down; captured. Blow out the candles.

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|| 5:39 PM

Turning away from the two, he showed no emotion on his face, preferring to keep everything bottled up inside. Like always, the lone figure walked away, his emotions only showing in his tight grasp of fists.

Falling little by little, the droplets of rain became heavier with his heart; it wasn't long before it was pouring. The flakes of snow slowly melted becoming rain; others hardened becoming hail, reflecting the unbalanced messy heart of a certain black-haired school boy.

A small package, wrapped with care could be seen, sitting coldly on the bench, its ribbons slowly losing its shape as the harsh weather took it down. A gift left unattended to; left behind, but not forgotten by its bearer.

The boy looked at his hand as he slowly unfolded the fist, letting the palm collect the hail pouring down, letting the rain soak him thoroughly, allowing his naked emotions to hurriedly dance in his heart, ripping apart certain emotions, memories ripening, blooming before withering away as he came to a halt, realisation suddenly hitting him. Crouched and curled up under the rain, he could not cry. It was as if he had expected it to happen.


To my cute husband
|| 5:35 PM

You know, I really wish the relationship between both of you would end. He's hurting you, can't you see? He's somewhat like toxic in your veins and you can't remove it bah. But I really would like to see you smile (:


What do you see?
Sunday, September 26, 2010 || 11:01 PM

"What do you see in the mirror?" whispered a soft husky voice.

Looking into the mirror, the girl found that she saw nothing, not even her own reflection, curious she turned her head around to face the boy holding her hands.

Smirking, he gave no reply, only a light kiss on her lips. Brushing the tingling feeling off, the younger girl looked into the mirror once more. She really could not see anything there.

"You really can't see anything in the mirror?"

Nodding, she walked forward with him right behind her towards the mirror. Slowly touching the edge of the wooden frame, she found herself mesmerized with a mirror that showed her nothing. Hearing a sigh from the taller boy behind her, she lifted her hand from the mirror, redirecting her focus towards the taller boy holding her.

"Need help with deciding what to see in the mirror?"

"I don't ne-"

"Now, what do you see in the mirror?"

Whipping her head around, she stared deeply into the mirror, as if she were transfixed. She did not see her own reflection but instead, she saw a sea of emptiness.

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|| 10:45 PM

No matter if we grow apart, or one day come closer together again, if you get the one you love and forget all about me, or if you choose to be distant and go your separate ways, don’t forget that I’m always here to listen to your thoughts and to pick you up when you’re hurt. It hasn’t once changed from the beginning. It doesn’t matter how long it has been since we last talked or why we stopped talking, if you feel like you can’t handle anything anymore, I’ll be here until you don’t need me. So if you choose the road to live your life without me, know that it’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to live your life with me if you’d truly be discontent anyway. So, know that I’m always there for you even if you’re not there for me, as long as you’re happy and living peacefully.


Mist and Clouds
|| 10:22 PM

Tiny droplets of water suspended by the air. When you consider it, what's the difference between clouds and mist apart from where they appear?

The mist swirls along the ground, drifting into unwanted areas, expanding with its vast reach. It creates a haze, so things are lost, hidden, masked from plain sight - yet it is beautiful, soft, alluring at the same instance. Creeping delicately across the ground, through the narrowest areas, softening the harsh colours of the unforgiving world.

Higher up, where the wind carries them hither, the clouds float, unconcerned for the most part, free and untethered to the ground like the rolling mists, forever confined and chained to only pass below on the earth, but the clouds cannot fall either. Once they pass that hidden barrier, they meld into each other - which is which?

The fluffy shapes of the clouds are misleading. Thick and impenetrable, they form a barrier to sight, masking everything in its entirely unless you can pass through it. It is unlike the clutching mists, where one finds no escape, the tiny droplets swirling about you easily, although you can always see the shortest distance ahead. The clouds are thicker, more blinding, unyielding to anything but force.

Mist swirls no matter how much you bat at it.

The quick forming clouds have their own beauty, but it is not soft as the mist, appearing to move slowly, lazily across the bright expanse of sky, yet they ripple in the air, forming, dispersing with such intensity.

The mist is slow to creep up, advancing unnoticed until it is too late. It is subtle and sly, slinking into the world gently, rarely, but at once, dominating in its vastness and subtle fierceness. Although the clouds cover the much vaster sky, it is still but limited to the confines of the atmosphere. It wanders where it will, yet - it is still restricted.

The mist curls up unnoticed, from anywhere.

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Huh, love?
|| 5:16 PM

If you think you’re in love, don’t get your hopes up. It’s not love until you go through both good & bad times together. If you love someone, you would know why you love them. If you have no reason, then think about it. Do you really love them? You would go through all these fights & break ups only to realize that there’s no point, because you’re always gonna get back together. You would spend time together, even if both of you are broke. Love isn’t about money; love is priceless. Love is something you could never buy; love is when one of you makes a huge mistake, but then in the end you work it all out because you realize that it’s just one mistake & it’s not worth it, because all you want is for it to be forever. But then, never say forever because everything has an ending. But that’s only in my opinion. Love is a strong word & has many definitions. Now, you decide, is it love?


|| 4:30 PM

Maybe I say I don’t like him, Maybe I say he’s not my world. Maybe I say I never think about him, and maybe I’m a pretty good liar.

Well, that's one thing. Here's another. HEH.

When you give pieces of your heart to people who will throw them aside, how much of it will there be left? At the end of the day, will you be expected to pick those pieces up all by yourself?


|| 3:29 PM

He was perceived as someone always striving for something impossible…and sometimes intangible even if he always made it possible to grab in the end.

Simply, he was a man who always got what he wanted.

Whatever he desired.

Because of that, many people decided to follow him, worshipping him like some kind of an angel…or even god. He had so many dreams other people might deem senseless. Yet, this pristine white angel…still dreamed.

When those ever-so piercing violet eyes closed, the white angel whose wings were, in fact, so bloody, dreamed. He dreamed of different shades of colors, different kinds of visions and varieties of jumbled old memories – some of which were a little bit more than significant while most were not, for to him, past was mostly something unnecessary unlike the present and future…that he could seize and shape it with his own hands.

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The 3 kinds of people in the world.
|| 3:12 PM

There are three kinds of people in the world.

First, there are the sheep. The sheep are the innocent, the heroes, the ones who always go down in a fight for the good of the world. The ones that stop a dirty street urchin from stealing an apple from the vendor; and pay for the fruit themselves, inevitably changing that street urchin's view of society, while giving him hope for a better future. They are the stereotypical good guys, and I find I really can't stand those kind of people. They are too fake, too bland, and too typical, and they thoroughly disgust me.

Then, there are the wolves. In all essence, they are the exact opposite of the sheep. They are greedy, vulgar, and in it all for self gain. They have no qualms about blooding their muzzle as long as they get a piece of the meat. To them, all that matters is getting their prey, and they will take out anyone who stands in their way without a second thought.

Finally, there are the people who, unlike the wolves, cannot be bought and cannot be swayed; and unlike the sheep, are no heroes of the light out to save the world from darkness They are not in for money, or for power, or for anything, really.

Some people just like to watch the world burn.

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I'll miss you
|| 2:44 PM

There…they would run out in the rain… they would play like little kids in the puddles, without a care in the world. When it turned night they would run home. They would walk in and look at each other… laugh as they saw they were soaked through and through. He would go in and fetch them towels to dry and it was when he would hand him a towel… that the whole world came to a stop.

It was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

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