Thứ Ba, 30 tháng 10, 2012

Ai là ComputerBoy?!

Bạn có thể phân biệt ComputerBoy này với ComputerBoy kia?

Không ngờ là Blogger cho đăng ký tên hiển thị thoải mái, không kiểm tra trùng!

Thứ Năm, 11 tháng 10, 2012

Mất cân bằng...

Là người yêu thiên nhiên, yêu tự do nhưng rất hiếm khi mình có được cái tự do mà mình muốn... Để rồi một ngày nọ mình đã nhận ra rằng "cái tự do giữa vô vàn ràng buộc chính là sự cân bằng của các ràng buộc đó."

Nhưng dạo này sự mất cân bằng trong cuộc sống của mình đã quay trở lại làm mình hết sức mệt mỏi! Và tình cờ trong danh sách các bài hát tiếng Pháp mình đang nghe có 3 bài rất đúng tâm trạng... Không biết đến hết đời này mình có học được cách sống cân bằng giữa thế gian này không nữa?!

Comme un Arbre Dans la Ville

Comme un arbre dans la ville
Je suis né dans le béton
Coincé entre deux maisons
Sans abri, sans domicile
Như cây xanh mọc giữa phố phường
Tôi sinh ra trong khối bê-tông
Bị kẹp giữa hai ngôi nhà đứng
Không mái che, không dòng địa chỉ
Comme un arbre dans la ville
J'ai la fumée des usines
Pour prison, et mes racines
On les recouvre de grilles
Như cây xanh mọc giữa phố phường
Tôi có khói từ bao nhà máy
Và rễ tôi, để giam cầm chúng
Họ dùng lưới mà bao chúng lại

Dis Moi

Dis-moi comment faire pour comprendre tout ça
Et toi aujourd'hui ai-je encore le droit
De croire en des choses qui n'existent pas
Hãy nói tôi nghe làm sao mà hiểu hết được nó
Và này, có phải hôm nay tôi vẫn còn quyền
Để tin vào những điều không hề hiện hữu
Il y a des moments où je ne sais plus quoi penser
Ne pas s'égarer dans l'oubli
Ne pas laisser le temps passer
Mais je vois tout se dégrader autour de moi
Sans aucun respect
Je me dis c'est comme ça "La vie est un long combat!"
Có những lúc tôi không còn biết mình nghĩ gì nữa
Đừng để lạc trong niềm quên lãng
Đừng để thời gian trôi đi mất
Nhưng tôi thấy cả thảy đều suy đồi khắp xung quanh
Chẳng còn tí tôn trọng nào
Tôi tự nhủ mình rằng "Đời người là một cuộc trường chinh!"
Si tu n'as pas compris que la vie est un défi
Pour nous les jours se ressemblent
La souffrance nous fait survivre ensemble.
Nếu bạn không hiểu được cuộc sống là một thử thách
(Thì) Với chúng ta ngày nào cũng như nhau
Đau khổ khiến chúng ta phải sống cùng với nhau.

Je Suis Un Homme

Je suis un homme plein d'ambitions
Belle voiture et belle maison
Dans la chambre ou dans le salon
Moi, je tourne en (rond,) je tourne en rond
Tôi là một người đầy tham vọng
Chiếc xe xịn và ngôi nhà sang trọng
Trong phong ngủ hay trong phòng khách
Tôi, tôi quay vòng, tôi quay vòng vòng
Je fais l'amour et la révolution
Je fais le tour de la question
J'avance, avance à reculons
Oui, je tourne en (rond,) je tourne en rond
Tôi yêu đương và tôi làm cách mạng
Tôi đi vòng quanh những câu hỏi
Tôi tiến lên, tiến lên những bước lùi
Đúng, tôi quay vòng, tôi quay vòng vòng
J'ai fait le monde à ma façon
Coulé dans l'or et le béton
Corps en cage et cœur en prison
Moi, je tourne en (rond), je tourne en rond
Tôi đã làm nên thế giới theo cách của mình
Đúc trong vàng và trong bê-tông
Thân trong cũi và tim trong ngục
Tôi, tôi quay vòng, tôi quay vòng vòng
C'est moi, le maître du feu, le maître du jeu
Le maître du monde, et vois ce que j'en ai fait
Une terre glacée, une terre brûlée
La terre des hommes que les hommes abandonnent!
Đó là tôi, ông trùm lửa, ông trùm lạc thú
Ông trùm thế giới, và xem này những gì tôi đã làm
Một mảnh đất băng giá, một mảnh đất lửa thiêu
Trái đất của loài người mà loài người bỏ hoang!

Thứ Ba, 28 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Hai, 27 tháng 8, 2012

i came across this boy

ph: Inès☆

I was on ChatRoulette one night, a website created to meet random people from all over the world and sometimes you'll find perverts showing off their private parts on the webcam but sometimes, you actually get to meet decent people, really decent people. And that was what happened to me.

I was on the website, had the cursor on the next button so I could just click instead of scrolling to find a next button if I were to come across with say a 40 year old pedo wanking in front of the webcam. To be honest, there were pretty a lot of normal guys I met on the website but most of them had trouble communicating in English and I got pretty bored so I pressed next, next, next... until I came across this boy, who looked decent enough but that wasn't what made me stay to talk to him, it was the set of drums at the back of him that got me intrigued.

So there we were, talking on ChatRoulette with the shitty connection and after what seemed like half an hour, we exchanged our Skype ids and continued our conversation on Skype. We talked just about everything. Our music taste, our perceptions of life, our jokes- we immediately clicked. We talked for about 5 hours before I headed to bed. Since that day onwards, we Skyped every single day for hours. I am 6 hours ahead so sleep had to be sacrificed and to be honest, it was worth it.

I showed him how my college looked like, brought him a tour around my campus. I showed him my house, my friends. We shop together online and show the things we bought. It was like he was here already but the most frustrating part is that, he isn't. How he could just stay there, spinning in his chair, juggling things to kill time while we were on Skype because I had to study for my finals. How I stole glances at him while I did my notes.

But then again, have you ever considered the slight possibility that it could be, fate? I mean, seeing him on ChatRoulette and if I pressed next, I probably would have missed the chance of feeling this way. If the connection was shitty and we didn't manage to exchange any information about one another, if I accidentally closed the website. Anything, I mean, what are the odds?

How is it possible that a boy who lives 6000... 6258.05 miles away to be exact, is able to give me the butterflies?

Thứ Sáu, 24 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Năm, 23 tháng 8, 2012


ph: buenaventura marco

When you pick me up my favorite songs are always playing. You tell me not to speak, wanting to explain what is going on. You ask for me, but I just can't.

I've always cared for you. Always loved seeing you, hearing from you, fighting with you. At the same time, however, I've hated you. Despised you more than any person I know. You made me hurt in a way that I've never experienced, you embarrassed me, you left me. To this day I cry when I think about that night on the beach when you yelled at the ocean and left our relationship to the waves. I laid in bed during that summer, weeping for reasons I don't even know. Crying for what happened. I had never felt that before.

Getting your letter this summer nearly ripped me to shreds. It was an apology but I cried as if the break up had happened again. My letter back was full of pent up resentment, and I think back now that it may have been too much to be said in a letter. When you read it you wrecked your car. I made you as mad at you had made me. That was the point.

Eventually summer fades and we all come back to school. Seeing you the other day made me livid again. You didn't deserve to even be in the same place as me. You didn't deserve my glances, you knew that. We fought when around each other, people complained about the tension we left in the air. We didn't care. We've never cared.

This time last year we tried this the first time. You came to me, convinced me of the importance of our relationship and I unwillingly agreed. Soon after, everything fell apart. As you come back to me I tell you I can't let you in. I want to. I want to be the one to hold your hand, I want to walk under your arm and feel small, but I can't.

You told me of what you've done this year to keep me close as we walked around the gardens at night. That poem was beautiful, the flowers that I thought were from a friend, the night you came to see my play--all unnoticed. You have always been there and I had no idea. Hearing you say that you want me and only me feels like a dream. I had no idea that I had the ability to care anymore, but I still can't let go. There is something holding me back. Whether or not this will happen again, I can't know. Jumping in head first brought me more pain that I ever thought imaginable. I'm here to say that I am willing to eventually walk up to the shore and ease into that sea where we left us.

Right now, however, I'm not even close to the water.

Thứ Tư, 22 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Ba, 21 tháng 8, 2012

we make a hell of a team

ph: Esben BÃ

When I met you, I was getting over someone. Someone who was great at first and whom I had given my heart to and he had stomped all over it. I didn't know how or why it ended so abruptly. I was hurt and was working on getting over him; I was working on getting past the need to find answers when someone just pushes you aside as if you were disposable. But when I saw you, I wanted you. I didn't wanted you to be my boyfriend, I knew I couldn't offer you anything, I was empty and you were ending your relationship, I knew better than to get involved with someone I couldn't give or receive anything and for the first time, I had no expectations.

It didn't start with a first date. We worked in the same place, I had seen you before, I found you attractive (very much so) I wanted to leave my feelings aside and just have a fling because you see, I always get involved. I added you to my messenger thinking here goes nothing and we started talking, we flirted and it progressed from there. We saw each other at the office, we went out for drinks with co workers but, nothing happened until one Sunday afternoon you offered me a ride home and you leaned over on a red light and kissed me. We went to your house with an excuse I can't even remember at this moment and we slept together. On the way to my house you said you were waiting to see if she would come back. I just thought it was a onetime thing.

But it wasn't, we saw each other every time we could, we didn't talk about feelings or expected anything from each other, it was raw desire and unknown territory for me.
We started spending more time together and talking and opening up and you I started to feel attached to you and wanting more out of it and in that moment, I knew I had to get out. You said to me, I can't offer you anything, you know this, if you can't handle it let me know...

But time went by and I never said what I had rehearsed in my head over and over again, I never uttered the words, let's end this before it's too late and someone gets hurt... I have never been happier to have kept quiet.

It's been almost a year now and we've had a great relationship. I have learned so much from you, I have learned so much about myself as well. We have had our ups and downs, we moved in together a bit too soon and we didn't know each other that well. But we have made it work and we have learned so much from every fight we've had and we stick together, support each other and wait the storm off together. I have never had a real, mature relationship before and you have shown me that, you have shown me real love. I love you for who you are. You have days when you are cranky, forget to take out the garbage, spend too much time in front of the mirror, you speak too loud when you're on the phone, and when you're mad and you say things without thinking them through... yeah, I still love you because you have opened your heart even though is as flawed as mine. You show interest in things that are important to me, you have learned to communicate and open it, you are sweet and caring and try to be romantic because you know how important those things are for me. You talk about plans for the future and you include me and the house we share has become our home. I want us to grow old together and deal with it all together because we make a hell of a team.

You truly are the love of my life.

Thứ Hai, 20 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Bảy, 18 tháng 8, 2012

dive back into the waters

ph: mar'ya filatova

amor mio-

first we were strangers. then you weren't so unknown and weren't so strange, and we drifted towards friends. and keeping the friend title you graduated to become my boyfriend. soon after, and with increasingly accumulated titles, you became my lover. and it was months of bliss as all three titles merged into you. and you with me became some completely separate entity that moved as one force in the universe, rambunctiously causing heads to turn and eyes to roll but i was there and you were there and it was us. together.

then too quickly after you became my ex-lover. and my ex-boyfriend. and my ex-friend. and too quickly was i surrounded by exs, too many to count and too many for it to mark any spot. and too quickly you became the person i pushed into the past tense when talking about, though so much of you is still with me presently, surrounding me and hugging me.

and then you send me a message - and i can eagerly re-unfold all the layers we surpassed together, to your inner demons and mine. i can eagerly dive back into the waters of your trust and my love and our innocence. i can eagerly respond with a desperate yes, and a promise to call him in the morning.

because truth is i’ve been waiting for him to say he needs me. i’ve been waiting for him to say he misses me. and i’ve been waiting for him to say he loves me. because there are too many newborn butterflies alight in my stomach to swallow such an opportunity with a passive no. so here i wait and here i teeter, on the brink of ex's, like they're bowling pins lined up ready to fall. and i'm hoping in one swift movement i can knock down every ex we were drowning in.

Thứ Sáu, 17 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Năm, 16 tháng 8, 2012

when all your life/love has been taken

ph: elias.and.theresa.carlson

I just realised, how small I feel when you aren't with me. How scared I am of everything, when I can't be with you, or when you turn away. How everything in my life means nothing at all anymore, when I can't share it with you. How alone I feel when you aren't here to understand my ways, and to love them. How incomplete I am without you.. Everything is half. Or nothing. It's like a big gap has been punched through my heart. A part is missing. You took it with you, the biggest part of my heart, and therefore because it's with you, I can not share it with anyone else anymore. It will always be with you. Even now you're gone, no one interests me. There isn't a guy who catches my eye, or interest. Nothing compares to you. Once you've had a taste of perfection. And you aren't even actually perfect. You have imperfections. But dear god, how I love all of them.

You are perfect to me. For me. With me. For I am not perfect either. I am still trying to not mess up. And to be as good as I can for you. Because even though when I was with you, it felt like I could never be with anyone else like I am with you, it still felt like I couldn't deserve you. In a good way. You are way up there for me. And I'm always trying to reach. To touch it. I don't just love you. I'm with you. Everything in me is you. Every memory I have. I don't know how to love without you. I don't know if I want to. Everything is gone. I wish I could say that I'm better off, but it feels like I won't ever meet anyone like you ever again. It feels like I won't ever love again like I did with you. Passionately. I didn't know I could feel this empty. But in a way it's addictive, because it makes me feel that what we had is... was real. That it wasn't just something. The memories are a drug to me and kill me.

How do you live/love when all your life/love has been taken from you?

a way to be together

Sofia Ajram + weheartit

Thứ Ba, 14 tháng 8, 2012

i'm a mess

ph: David Sigfridsson

I’m a mess. A total mess because I’m in love with this man.

I’m at his place now, sitting on his sofa listening to Journey, his favorite band. He just drank his morning coffee and left for work. I was still in bed, but got up as soon as he locked the front door, because I couldn’t sleep.

I can never sleep nowadays. I can’t sleep or think or breathe or eat and it’s all because of him. He has got into my brain and my heart and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s been like this for a few months now and I’m trying to get used to it because I know it won’t stop until he’s mine. Or until he says he doesn’t want me and I’ll have to make a desperate try moving forward.

He’s that kind of man who lives on his own in a nice apartment downtown. He talks a lot, sings like some kind of god and got nothing in his refrigerator but soda, jam and two eggs in a box. His hair is curly and his eyes have got some indefinite gray-green color which I’m getting totally lost in every time he looks at me. Also, his smell is like a drug and, obviously, I’m totally obsessed with him.

The thing is he’s not interested in being in a relationship right now. He jokes and says it isn’t season for that at the moment. He hasn’t gotten over his ex, even though it’s been over a year since they broke up. And some days he’s got other girls coming over, sleeping over, just for fun I guess.

This is making me jealous. I’ve never before in my eighteen year old life been jealous. But then, I’ve never felt like this for anyone before neither. This man is different, and he is making me crazy. He is making me a mess, a total mess, and I will wait for him. Even if it’ll break me.

Chủ Nhật, 12 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Bảy, 11 tháng 8, 2012

two drifters

ph: Paula Pire

I never knew I could love someone that much. It wasn’t attraction at first sight, it didn’t develop gradually, it seemed to be in me all along and only know I’ve come to understand the signs. For years you have been sailing near me and all this time no butterflies and no heart beats exploding. Just a warm content feeling when I see you and a notion of being exactly where I’m supposed to be when you smile. The sea can be rough and heavy but as long as I see your sails I know I’m safe.

Over the years I’ve noticed all your flaws: you’re annoyingly stubborn to the point of obstinate, you can be awfully self-righteous and sometimes you’re just plain corny. But you’re also the kindest man on earth, so affectionate and when you laugh you sound like a little boy caught playing a prank. When you’re away, no matter for how long, I know I’m only half of what I can be when I’m with you. I can feel your part missing and the void does not stop throbbing until you’re back.

We have a mutual silent agreement, stirring our courses slowly to the point where we’re finally going to meet. Until then we live our lives a few feet away from each other, testing new waters and sometimes we even loose each other. But the wind always blows our boats back in sight until one day we find common ground and stop drifting.

I love that you’re my best friend and I can’t wait for the time when sailing is over. In the end it’s just going to be you and me.


Thứ Sáu, 10 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Năm, 9 tháng 8, 2012

if I could do it over

Tom and Lauren
ph: Sophie Lilla


I think the reason I can’t handle this is because I have so many regrets. If I could go back and do things over, I would change everything. From the start, I would tell you how much you meant to me. Fuck ‘clingyness’. I would be honest. I’d tell you about how much I liked your hair and your funny, awkward little laugh and your silver-capped teeth and your wrinkly hands and the way you’d look at me so seriously, through your lashes, and make my stomach flip flop.

What else would I redo? I’d tell you why I was sad. Why I was hurting. Why I was scared. I’d tell you about my dad. I’d tell you about how sometimes I just wanted to be alone and listen to music. I’d tell you about how terrified I was of conformity, of drinking, of being weak and vulnerable.

Then, when I was done telling you all that, I’d kiss you and you’d kiss me back. And I’d ask you to take care of me. “Take care of me, okay?” I’d say, and you’d say yes and kiss me again and I’d feel safe.

If I could do it over, I’d realized how much you appreciated me. How you truly cared about me, not just FOR me, but ABOUT me. You cared what I had to say. You cared if I was sad or a little lost. You cared about all my weird little quirks that other guys might pretend not to notice.

I think I scared you a lot. By nature, I’m unpredictable. I change everyday. You wanted to be secure, you wanted me to tell you all those things that I never did, because deep down you knew it wasn’t the same for me. Sometimes I’d be all over you, kissing your face, telling you stories, laughing at your jokes. But in a heartbeat I’d be different. I’d be introverted, reserved. I’d look at you for long moments like I was lost. Like I didn’t know how I got there. The truth is, I didn’t know.

You were a hundred percent certain I was exactly what you wanted. I wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever known. I was beautiful in a way that only chaos can be beautiful. I wished every day that I could be as certain as you were.

All those things I regret? All those things I wish I’d said? At the time, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say everything.

But I was scared, so scared. I was scared that you might think I was clingy if I told you that you made me happy. I was scared that you might think I wanted attention if I talked about my dad. I was scared to look vulnerable and immature and naïve if I told you my morals.

I wish that I hadn’t been so afraid. I wish I’d trusted you.

I didn’t know then just how much you cared about me. You never would have hurt me; you aren’t capable of that. I know that now. I know that you treated me so tenderly that I didn’t deserve you.

I’m so sorry for everything.

I’m glad we had each other. I’m glad you learned to love someone. I’m glad we were happy, even if only for a few weeks. I’m glad that you trusted me and respected me.

I can’t settle for anything less now. And that’s scary, and sad, but it’s okay because one day I know that someone else will come along who will care just as much as you did. Maybe he won’t come around for years, but he’ll be here. And with him, I’ll be certain. I’ll be as sure as you were with me. He’ll change my life like I changed yours, he’ll make me see everything differently and I won’t be afraid to make mistakes with him. And then he’ll break my heart like I broke yours, and you can laugh at me if you want, I deserve it.

Thank you. I’d say that I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry. I won’t apologize for a single second we spent together. All those regrets I have, all those mistakes I made, they won’t happen the next time around.

You taught me not to be scared.


Thứ Tư, 8 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Ba, 7 tháng 8, 2012

my ex-stranger

ph: valitova

Have you ever met someone who can light up your whole day? Someone who suddenly appears out of nowhere but made you smile every time you see each other? Maybe you met that person in your town, at work, at the store or through a friend. But you find out that they’re not from here. They live far away, and in a few days they are going back home. The last day before leaving, you decide to meet up for a little while. But you missed one other, so you have to go back home with an empty heart and a question constantly ringing in your head. Will you ever meet again? You have not a name, a phone number or Facebook. What are the odds that you will ever meet again? Very very minimal.

So you can imagine my surprise when he appeared around the corner, just like he used to. With smiling lips and sparkling eyes. He said he couldn’t leave without knowing my name. That he had been driving for hours to find me. We said that we would see each other tomorrow again. He seemed happy about that, and I can’t wait. He is so beautiful. My ex-stranger.

Thứ Hai, 6 tháng 8, 2012

Chủ Nhật, 5 tháng 8, 2012

attraction is a funny thing

ph: margaret durow

it just happened one night
he just walked into my life
the details are fuzzy
a combination of alcohol and tiredness
but he was there, on the street
or rather on his lawn
and it was like he was calling my name
but i didn't know it,
not yet anyway

everything about him draws me in,
his pale green eyes that light up when he smiles
his voice, his arms, his every move.
and that smile that knocks out my fears
everything about him gives me comfort
and falling into his web was out of my control
it was inevitable

attraction is a funny thing that way
no matter how wrong it might be
it clouds your mind, it takes over
and the next thing you know
you're caught
but the worst part is you don't even care
you can pretend to struggle,
pretend to be weak
but the truth is you want to be there
limbs tied down, heart pounding
refusing to move
wanting nothing more than to be trapped there
to be unable to break the spell
and you could care less

that's the way it is with him
i get stuck in his essence
and not a single part of me wants to pull away
i'm perfectly content with being devoured
besides, attempting to resist is pointless,
why try and avoid something that great.
something that makes it hard to speak
something that makes you unable to think
and blush whenever it crosses your mind

so, regardless of how wrong it might be
i think i'm just going to soak it in
i'm going to lay with my head on his chest
while he runs his fingers through my hair
and i'm going to listen to the sound of his heart.
because i can't imagine life without that sound anymore.
its embedded in my brain, and i refuse to let it go.
and i'm okay with that.
its not something i'm going to regret
and its not something i'm willing to give up.

- Troll

Thứ Sáu, 3 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Năm, 2 tháng 8, 2012

he said, she said

ph: Claire_Fisher2.

It's been a few days. Strange, as I have had a lot on my mind. Somewhere between my choices this last week, and the decisions I've yet to make, I lost the ability to blog. I suppose I'm a little overwhelmed by everything going on inside my mind, and the aching in my heart. Everyone wants to know. Some are afraid to ask so they beat around the bush, while others push for information. And then some, cone to their own conclusions based on what he said, she said or what they "saw".

So often we allow someone else take responsibility for our faults. Then there's the other half of that equation in which we unjustly hold ourselves accountable for matters in which we bear no control. I'm guilty of both in the 1st degree.

He blames himself. And part of me wants to let him. Before today, I hadn't really understood fully why things are the way they are and why it can't be different. I've been thinking. Sorting out all of these damn ideas and thoughts in my head. For awhile I felt it coming. I was quick to blame him for the distance that had suddenly started to grow between us. I was losing patience and he wasn't taking me, or the situation seriously. I kept thinking that all it would take to settle my ugly butterflies and irritability was just one night. One dinner. One movie. One kiss. One glance. I never got one night. I had been growing irritable and frustrated with his nonchalant attitude to my subtle hints and quiet pleas. I was happy to be his because despite this, he treated me better than I felt I deserved but impatience was weighing in. I would feel angry, hurt, alone and grumpy when I thought about how I couldn't be in his arms, at his own will. I blamed him for my growing lack of tolerance at the situation. I knew it was wrong. And I'd feel ashamed of myself for the bitterness I had. I didn't know how I could one minute have so much patience and be telling myself he was worth waiting a million years for, and the next be so angry for not having him now. So I blamed him. I blamed the way he would make me promises I'd cornered him into. I blamed the fact that he relapsed. I blamed him for not having anywhere to go when I needed to get away. Now I realize that I lost patience because I had been on a timeline. I had at the beginning of our relationship, done my research and realized these things only take a year. And sometimes less. I counted down the days and I didn't push or pry. Not until, when it was close to being a year and he shared with me the truth I hadn't planned on. I quickly became aware that we were on the time of an hourglass. Not a timer. And the hourglass, while so close to being empty, had just been flipped. What I've come to understand is that really, I created my own impatience. I set myself up for heartbreak in the beginning when I stopped hearing what he was trying to tell me and selfishly I only heard what I wanted to. Somewhere along the lines of late night promises, I love you mostests and plans of tomorrows I conceived some unrealistic fantasies.

And then there is the other half of my internal conflict. While I chose to blame him for my own self inflicted wounds, I couldn't help but hold myself accountable for his confessed regress. Even now, while I know it isn't right, I still play the what if game. I asked myself a lot of questions. Most of them pertaining to what I could have done and what I didn't do. Why didn't I tell him how proud of him I was more often? What if I had been more involved in his recovery? Should I have asked more questions? Why am I not enough to make him better? Maybe I was too laid back about things. Maybe if he had been with me he wouldn't have been out giving in to temptation. Maybe I caused too much stress. Was I too pushy? What if I hadn't been so grumpy? How could I be better?

All of these questions and thoughts flew amongst others through my mind. I don't know whether it's all females, or if I stand alone, but i feel the need to be a rescuer. I played the role of savior to my ex, or at least I tried. And I told myself, at the beginning of this relationship, that I knew where he was and I knew I couldn't do that. Knowing something is wrong doesn't necessarily mean were not going to do it though. Maybe Hollywood is to blame for putting the idea of love being "enough to conquer all" in our head. Maybe Disney. Maybe it's Nicholas Sparks or lifetime. Maybe it's a trait I inherited from my dad, a savior in his own past failed romances. Maybe if it weren't for them, I'd never have given myself the expectation of my love being enough to "save" or "fix" him.

Its apparent that no reason is not reason enough for anyone these days. So for everyone asking what happened, and who or what was to blame, I'll leave you with this:

Maybe the blame is too much for one person to carry. Perhaps there's multiple sources. Maybe it's just me and him alone. Maybe it's a little of everything I've said.

Then again, perhaps it's all perspective.

Thứ Tư, 1 tháng 8, 2012

Thứ Ba, 31 tháng 7, 2012

the fear of loss

heart of mine
ph: weepy hollow

We made no sense on paper.

And yet, the first time we met each other's gaze, sprawled out on those hideous couches that smelled of feet and popcorn, the remainder of the room and its occupants faded out of any inkling of mental awareness I had left, because it was as if smoke machines has been let off inside me, spreading a fizzy, warm, dizzying vapor of overwhelming... feeling.

Feeling. The thing I'd been so careful to avoid ever since I could remember. Feeling had always inevitably lead to disappointment. Take it away, and all expectations with it, and you have yourself a bearable, albeit somewhat streamlined, rhythm of life.

You didn't fit into my life.
You still don't.

If we made a list about me, and a list about you, they'd repel each other with such force they'd create a black hole.

And yet, I cannot shake, even these many months later, that indescribable sense of peace that washed over me as we sat, curled up in that old purple couch, just talking. I don't remember what about. Like everything that had constituted the violent whirlpool of slightly self-destructive, acutely cynical, decidedly damaged thoughts, ideas and philosophies that made up my reality just... stopped.


Halted... and collapsed into bits.

I used to be completely convinced that I'd die alone. In a large manor. Filled with books. And CDs. And art. And pictures of crazy times. With odd intellectual friends. And a garden. Close to a foggy, grey beach.

I knew that men were only there to disappoint you.
I knew it.
It was an inevitable.
In fact, I'd mulled the thought over so many times that it was a
soggy little puddle of

My mother realized this, and subsequently shoved me into therapy.

All those years and sessions and techniques, and you managed to shatter all the damage some thought irreversible in a mere week.

We didn't really have to talk that much. We never really had to finish sentences. It just.. everything made sense. You got it. You got why I didn't let anyone close, because you didn't. You also didn't see the point in romantic entanglements.
To let our emotions manifest themselves properly was terrifying. We had no control over them. They led us to places where we'd be vulnerable.

Vulnerable from having survived similar shitty situations growing up. Life-altering, unfortunate events that transpired throughout any fault of our own, and we'd had to pay for them ever since. And we'd both been getting used to our idea of a life of solitude, of protected, distant interaction with others.

And yet we let our emotional armors fall in an instant, and dealt with that shift in our realities separately for the next week.
The pull was much, much too strong for us to hold on to them, despite how much we both fought it.

To let you hold that much power over me?


Shifting a person so utterly paralyzed from years of an intense fear of loss to complete vulnerability?

Truly devastating.

But...thank you.

No, really, thank you.

You changed me.

Fear of loss is a lot worse than losing something. Because the fear of loss makes you avoid situations where you would be in the position to lose anything.
And, well, that's losing all by itself, isn't it?

And now, we're writing to each other. We have been for awhile. They're benign, every day life stories. You tell me about your week, I tell you about mine. We don't do endearments. It's all been said. It's understood. We aren't under the illusion that the other is perfect. Far, far from it.

But we make sense.
Ask anyone in the room that time, with the smelly couches and the pull so strong it rearranged the particles in the air.
it's nonsense. We talked nonsense. It isn't relevant.
But we make so much non-sense together.

You say you could come visit me.
Come halfway across the world for me.

And I can't.
I can't fathom it.
We're young.
This is ridiculous.
I don't know why.
But it is.

I think I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid of being that completely vulnerable.

So vulnerable, I feel like my flesh has been stripped away and my muscles and cartilage are being exposed to the elements.

So vulnerable, I feel like every movement is at risk of making my bones shrink until they disappear, and leave me a crumpled pile of mess.

So vulnerable, I feel like if anyone were to touch me, I'd shatter into a million tiny pieces and a thousand tears.

I don't know.

To have my entirely new world - the one where men are humans, who are just as fucked up as we are, but the occasional respectful one comes along - depend on you?

It scares the shit out of me.

I'm waiting for you to fuck it up.
Maybe, if you come, you will.
Maybe I'm afraid you'll fuck it up if you come here.
Maybe you'll come and the pull will have dissipated.

There it goes again.
The fear of loss.

Thứ Hai, 30 tháng 7, 2012

Chủ Nhật, 29 tháng 7, 2012

i hope you see

ph: joshua whitelaw

She’s the only antidepressant to have ever worked, for however brief a time.

A life spent wallowing in self-loathing and bleeding wrists because it was the only thing I was good at. The only thing the bullies said I was good at. I was always on the outer at school, never truly engaged in the social aspect of life, just there to be a helping hand to friends by listening and helping solve their problems and be dubbed ‘a nice guy’ whilst they went and flirted and laughed and gossiped and fulfilled their lives. I was never happy. I was oh so jealous of my better looking counterparts, how they had everything handed to them on shiny plates. I watched love flourish but never took part and I was green with envy. It was brutal watching what I want pass me by, but severe depression and chronic antidepressant consumption froze my tongue.

It was at university I learned of non-reciprocal love. I fell head over heels in love with the girl who is now one of my best friends. I loved her more than life but she resigned me to the friend zone and it stung more than anything. My face is still salted when I remember and I still feel the odd pang of jealousy when I see her kiss her boyfriend or watch her smile as his face greets her touch screen. I’ve had people tell me that we would have been perfect together and that I should have pursued her. I take this with appreciation and offence, which is a strange feeling to say the least. But I have stuffed my feelings for her down too far to ever want to see them again. I already hurt too much as it is.

Anyway, she arrived in a flurry of gorgeous red hair and pale skin and we awkwardly acknowledged one another, she too was at school but she was as shy as I was and thus we had never spoken. Quiet, reserved, petite and quirky, she spoke softly and gave nods to indie fashion. I congratulated her on her acceptance into university and she proposed that we catch up some time. No preconceptions or anticipations, I accepted.

The day we saw one another again in the corner of a quaint little café was the first time in my life I’d could ever truly say I was happy. Her life was wrought with struggle, self-hate and depression. Liberation washed over me and we bonded over our mutual traits. She was me. And I loved the view for the first time. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about a scarily large number of commonalities, tottering around campus talking about indie bands and cruelty and animal rights and blueberries. This will come off as stupid, childish and naïve but I was in love with this girl, despite our short time together. I had forgotten the previous yet still fresh hurt of a love unconsummated and her voice funneled honey into my veins; everything she said made perfect sense, I could relate and didn’t have to posture to feel at ease. I left her with a warm smile, an exchanged phone number and a promise to meet again soon. We did, many times, chatting, empathising, trading mixtapes, laughing, professing our mutual feelings for one another, I fell asleep on her and listened to her quickening heartbeat; it screamed of a nascent relationship. Reciprocity was amazing. She gave incentive to what has otherwise been a pathetic existence and it validated all the hurt. I was fucking happy and I was for you.

A month or so later, she told me she was seeing someone who she is now in a relationship with. She said she really liked me but nothing could eventuate. It was as blunt as that. I cried and shook and vomited and bled into the basin. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth. She told me she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt for him, yet flirts with him in a public forum. She tells me she still likes me a lot, and she also flirts with me still (of which she admits to doing). I don’t want to bury my love for her but I cannot deal with the awkward and ultimately unfair ambiguity anymore. I hope you see me whilst I’m still here. I love you.

Thứ Sáu, 27 tháng 7, 2012

Thứ Năm, 26 tháng 7, 2012

you might actually like me

ph: weheartit

i wanted to let you know how frustrating our situation is for me and that’s the safest way i can put it.

hah, see, i can barely put my feelings to words-- rather, i can’t put them in a way that you’d be comfortable with. we’ve had talks like this before, and i always have trouble getting to the point because i know that if i say something too intense or too emotional, you’ll shut yourself down. then everything after that would be like talking to a block of ice; you’d be melting away as i speak until there’s none of you left. just an empty space. and i hate that about us.

don’t get me wrong, every other aspect of whatever-it-is-we-have is fantastic. it’s almost like our lives were written out by Sarah Dessen; our relationship is a sappy, teen-romance novel. but that’s the thing. it isn’t quite that. i mean, it starts out with the cliché: you and i are two totally different people. you are quiet and shy. a man of few words. but, hey, when you start talkin’, things start to make sense. you make every word count. you think before you act. i, on the other hand, am loud and friendly. most people say i am the jolliest person they have ever met. i blurt out basically whatever comes to mind, in hopes that nobody will care ‘cause they’d be too fixated on my enthusiasm. similarly, i am rather impulsive. so we are completely opposite. but, somehow, we click.

we hang out two to three times every week. we stay on the phone for long periods of time. we send each other silly blurbs and inside jokes through text message. we hold hands. we cuddle. we spoon. kiss. we eat dinner at each other’s houses with each other’s family. we call each other adorable and cute. we’re there when one needs the other the most. we tell each other everything. we’re virtually best friends. how generic-couple are we?

the answer is not at all.

if we were a generic couple, we’d be fine right now. i’d be fine right now. sure, we’d have our ups and downs, but like every good Sarah Dessen book, we’d find a way to figure it out. but how can you figure something out if you don’t even put any effort to it? we don’t acknowledge the problem, let alone try to solve it. you must be thinking, “nothing’s wrong. this chick’s insane. we’re totally fine.” see, i used to think so, until now. it’s been building up for a year and i can’t stand it. i may be insane. i don’t know. but here goes:

the problem is that we are not dating.

because you said you don’t like me that way. no matter how many times we adventure or chill in each other’s houses. no matter how much you hate the phone and still insist on talking on it with me. no matter how hard you try to make me smile on the rare occasions when i’m down. no matter how many times you tell me how smooth my hand is and how it fits perfectly into yours. no matter how much you initiate each embrace, each kiss. no matter how much our parents think we’re getting married. no matter how much you stare at me lovingly. no matter how many times you’ve been there when i’ve needed a ride home, or am scared, or have had an asthma attack. no matter how much you share with me that you don’t share with anyone else. no matter how close we’ve become. you still say that you. don’t. like. me. that. way.

and i don’t get it.

because today, i heard you say you love me. clearly. when you thought i wouldn’t hear.
and when i asked, you denied it.

the problem is, i don’t know where i stand.
the problem is, i don’t get why you won’t just accept the fact that you might
actually like me.

Thứ Tư, 25 tháng 7, 2012

Thứ Ba, 24 tháng 7, 2012

our story isn't over

ph: weheartit

You make my head feel like a busy, New York City street the second your name lights up on my cell phone.

It doesn't happen often, and it hadn't happened for a year and a half until recently, but when it does i don't know how to feel.

You were my first love, and first loves are hard to forget. I truly believe that the first person you fall in love with will always have a piece of your heart. It's never whole again- no matter how much you move on, how many more people you fall in love with, or how much you give to the next person- there's something special about the first time you give your heart away. Or maybe it's because your first love usually ends up in your first real heartbreak and you never quite get all of the pieces back.

I don't know what kept me with you for all of those years. I was young, naive, and immature i guess. But i loved you. Oh man, did I love you. I think i would have fought to be with you until i couldn't go on. I would have been content being with you and only you forever and ever. But you didn't feel the same. And to fight any longer would be foolish. You gave up on me not once, but twice, and it broke me down more and more. You treated me terrible in those last few months, as if I were a stranger you never even cared about. You left me a ghost. You left me broken. You left me.

It took so long for me to get back on my own two feet and finally feel anything again. And as everyone would tell me, time did heal. But no one ever really listens to that phrase...time heals. But healing doesn't make it go away, it just makes it bearable. It's like a scar. There's the initial wound and it hurts like hell, almost to the point where you think you'd rather just be dead at this point, and then slowly but surely your cut closes up and then there is the scab. You pick at it a few times and it hurts all over again. And eventually you have a scar, and it fades and fades, but it's never gone. There's always something to remind you.

And then i met him, and he swept me off my feet. He showed me what it was like to truly be loved and he gave me everything you never even thought to give. Everything that hurt finally went away with a flash of his smile and with the touch of his hand I felt like I had found my real forever. A month into the relationship I could see myself with him fifty years down the road. I had never loved someone this way before, not even you. Months in though, little fights started poisoning our relationship but we worked at them. I still love him with my whole heart and i still fall asleep next to him but every now and then you slip into my dreams, out of nowhere, just like in real life and in my dreams I miss you.

I never thought, in a million years, you'd come back to me again. I'm over you, I am, I worked way too hard at it not to be. But when I get a text alert at 2:30 in the morning, and i see your name on the caller ID, my head and heart start a war. I don't think it's love, i think it's missing who you were. I have this idea of you at sixteen in my head but six years later that isn't who you are.

But for some reason tonight, it hit me hard. You know me way too well not to know how to win my heart, even for five seconds. I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you for what you did to me way back when. I hate you for making me second guess the perfection I have now. I hate you for never really disappearing from my life. I hate you for having the nerve to ever even think I'd take you back. I hate you for your late night texts. I hate you for who you've become. I hate you for it all.

You texted me tonight and said: "I just have a weird feeling that our story isn't over. But clearly I'm the only one thinking that."

And I'd never admit it, to you or myself out loud, but...I've never stopped thinking that exact same thing.

Thứ Hai, 23 tháng 7, 2012


ph: ilovedoodle

Chủ Nhật, 22 tháng 7, 2012

love is much more

ph: Send More Mail

In my mind I dream of unknown places and future lovers. See, I dream allot. Part of me is stuck in an alternate reality, in a fairytale book or a Taylor Swift song, where no one gets hurt, and everything is perfect and gets resolved. I'm in love with the idea of love, but I have yet to truly find it, even within myself. I have thought I found it before, thought I grasped it, the concept of it at least, but I was wrong. Love takes no exact shape or form, I think of it as a quivering mass, that can be molded into any shape. For awhile now I have been a numb individual, numb to life, numb to pain, and numb to love. I have been content this way, safe in my little haven, safe in my mind. Little did I know, that I was missing so much. It didn't take a boy, or an unforgettable kiss to make me realize this, it took one conversation with a very good friend. To me love is much more than loving an individual, or even loving yourself. It's about loving life, loving this earth that we inhabit, loving the spirit that fills our soul (whatever that may be), and loving being alive. The most frustrating thing about love is that no one can give you that love of life, not any self help books, or therapists, or even religious figures. (though they may help.) It's something you find within yourself. I finally realized that while, I was afraid of living I was just existing. I want to LIVE. Not just experience the joys of life, but the pain too. I want to LOVE. Not just have a perfect relationship, but have flaws too. I WANT to be hurt, I want to be a complete mess, I want to live in a foreign city where I now no one, and they don't know me. Because anything is better than feeling nothing. Nothing is lonely, nothing is cold. Nothing is giving up. I vow to live and to love from this day forward. To love myself, to love life, and the earth we inhabit, to love the spirit the fills my soul, and to love being alive. I can only hope the same for you. Good luck on your journey.


Thứ Bảy, 21 tháng 7, 2012

Thứ Sáu, 20 tháng 7, 2012

until she came along

ph: weheartit

Finally my heart has found what it had been looking for in all those crushes on all those boys.

I am in love. and SHE is in love with me- even with what happened,certain events which i would have thought would have caused her to leave me- she has stayed by my side. holding me up when i break down, telling me i'm beautiful when I feel like a monster. making me laugh when all i feel like doing is crying.

she may not be the person I thought i was going to end up with. the majority of my life there has been this sort of idea of, well, a boy. I can still see him; tall, rather thin. tussled dark hair and maybe some glasses. he reads dante and beauvoir and maybe he writes or paints or plucks guitar strings. he has spindly fingers and maybe isn't the most gorgeous hunk on the block but his quirky charm is still captivating as we have picnics and talk about the possibility of the reality of a faerie world. He's a compilation of the love interests from many novels/ the type of person i give the double-take.

instead I have fallen for a curly-haired history major who loves video games and plays softball. She eats meat and doesn't always shave her legs. She talks about poop and we laugh at racist jokes that we shouldn't. she won't take a class she doesn't have to- she just wants to get through this college thing. she waits until the night before to write papers for classes she hates.

And I think she's gorgeous. I love her smooth skin and silky hair. her hazel eyes with a sunburst of gold around her pupil. her lips are perfectly shaped and are soft and warm against my skin when she nuzzles in my neck under my ear or kisses my chapped lips quietly when no one is looking. Our hands fit perfectly together and I just feel drawn to her. Even when we tease each other mercilessly or I feel like she doesn't want me around (regardless of whether this is true or not) I want to be with her. to be away from her for too long makes me feel like part of me is missing. because a piece of my heart is with her. We are so different yet so similar in sometimes meaningful sometimes insignificant ways. I'll stay up till 4am just talking with her.

She wasn't my first but so far she has been the best... between the sheets. I'm not embarrassed about my body and it's imperfections- she makes me feel gorgeous. I might have the sex drive of a small colony of rabbits and she would rather cuddle all night- it doesn't matter because I am with her regardless. I don't care if we never have sex again. being with her is worth it.

I don't know what else to say about us. somehow we fit together better than i would have thought. I remember meeting her and being attracted to her. not just physically but I instantly wanted to be her friend.

I remember as we grew closer and closer i couldn't help but think about the possibility- of us. not many people knew about my attraction to girls as well as boys. Brian knew but as far as i know he kept it as secret. my past lesions know but god knows what they think. I haven't talked to one for ages and the other and i have decided it is for the best to stick with being best friends and soul sisters.

I remember thinking about how much I wanted to kiss her- i wanted to see if she tasted as good as she looked. i would tease and flirt... testing the water I suppose.

who knows if we will be together forever. I know that in this moment I love her. totally and completely. it's strange how scary that is to put into writing. every time I say it it becomes more and more real. I love Heather. why is it so frightening to put down? is it a subconscious fear that the sentiment won't be returned? we say it enough to each other that I should be content and secure- but i wonder if i ever will be.

we could last another month another year a decade. but in this moment- I know this- I am happy and when I am with her the world seems a little less frightening and more manageable and I can see the hope waiting in the bottom of Pandora's box.

I could gush on and on about the way i feel when i am with her. i love the way she makes me feel. like i am worth the time of day.

the future scares me. other people scare me. my mom knows- i still can't tell what she thinks. well- i know she thinks it's "just a phase" which i suppose could be true. but it is the most wonderful phase i have ever had and i hope i never grow out of it.

and now you know.

I identified as straight until she came along and became the love of my life.

Thứ Năm, 19 tháng 7, 2012

Thứ Tư, 18 tháng 7, 2012

since we said goodbye

LE LOVE BLOG islam zayed cloud photo love quote break up im so sorry that this is how things turnedn out
ph: weheartit + Islam Zayed

I really don’t know what to do anymore.
I feel like shit for moving on, for meeting someone else.
I feel like shit knowing that you haven’t moved on,
I feel like shit knowing that your heartbreaking facebook status is about me.

It’s been over six months since we said goodbye to us, you and me.
But it’s only been about two months since we said goodbye for real, no friendship no nothing.

I know it was stupid of me, hanging around with you knowing that you still had those feelings, holding your hand when watching a movie and hugging you goodbye at night. I know I broke your heart and I’m really sorry for that. I know that no words will ever make up for that but I just want you to know that I’m so really sorry, from the bottom of my heart.

I know you’re still hurting really bad from things I’ve said and done and it’s making me sick. I can’t do anything to make you feel better, I’m only making everything worse just by writing this.

I hope one day you will meet someone who will give you everything I couldn’t.
I just want to be there for you, but I know I can’t.
I will see who dares to stand where I stood.

P.S. You were always on my mind.

Thứ Ba, 17 tháng 7, 2012