Lair of Flying Green Song Rabbits

I'm tired. We're tired.

It's okay, it's not Xion's fault. It's all mine.

I let everyone down, I'm the one who has a bad temper. I'm sorry I'm narcissistic and arrogant. I'm sorry I'm condescending. I'm sorry I think of everyone else so lowly.

I'm sorry I don't have my priorities right, I'm sorry I let my emotions carry me. I'm sorry I'm the person I am.
If I could change it, I would. But I can't.

I can't.



Their world is ours. And my world is theirs.

I don't even know anymore. Why can't I live in a permanent dream? Why do I have to wake up and hurt others?

Just leave us to dream. We're too young to live in the real world.

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Happy mother's day to all the mothers out there who deserve a little applause for giving birth to us wonderful kiddies. Cost of mummy’s love approval?

Blouse + belt: $40

Flowers for mum: $18

Flowers for Grandma: $8

The look on her face as she realises she's mistaken which shirt I bought for her since she didn't open the gift: priceless.

Thanks mum; I’ve always felt thankful you gave me life. Do you?

M.

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SAIHATE

むこうはどんな所なんだろうね？
無事に着いたら　便りでも欲しいよ

I wonder how is it like over there?
I want a letter or something when you arrive.

扉を開いて　彼方へと向かうあなたへ
この歌声と祈りが　届けばいいなぁ

Opening the door , you're heading to the beyond,
I wish to send this song and prayer to you.

雲ひとつないような　抜けるほど晴天の今日は
悲しいくらいに　お別れ日和で

Without a piece of cloud, it's a shiny sunny day,
it's a sorrow that it's a good day for farewell,

ありふれた人生を　紅く色付ける様な
たおやかな恋でした　たおやかな恋でした
さよなら

My usual life, as if you're painting red,
it was a gentle love, it was a gentle love,

SAYONARA

またいつの日にか　出会えると信じられたら
これからの日々も　変わらずやり過ごせるね

If I could believe we could meet again someday,
I could let go my days as it was.

扉が閉まれば　このまま離ればなれだ
あなたの煙は　雲となり雨になるよ

When this door closes, we would get separated each other as we are,
your smoke will be change into clouds and rain.

ありふれた人生を　紅く色付ける様な
たおやかな恋でした　たおやかな恋でした
さよなら

My usual life, as if you're painting red,
it was a gentle love, it was a gentle love,

SAYONARA

—

Farewell.

We all know, we all understand. All things die, all things end, all things are eventually dragged by time into the bottomless pits of non-existence.

Most of the time, it's easy to tell what died, who died. Most of the time when death occurs to something that is easily noted as alive.
But sometimes it's hard.

Was it friendship? Trust? Hope? Is it me? Is it them? Is it the project or is it...?

You guys all probably wonder why I attach myself to inanimate objects. Because they're objects. They're physical, they're easily identifiable.
How can I mourn something that I don't know exists?
Maybe it's about time I told you why I love Morte so much. Because he shares my birthday. Because you guys chose him, and gave him to me as a present. Because he represents the joyous times we shared together. The love the trust and the laughter.
Because I've chosen to leave myself behind. The girl that stood behind a mask to watch everyone suspiciously. The little girl who painted her abstract dreams in violet and black, she who chose carefully how to define herself through her history of mistrust in humans.
Now all the memories I've got left are happy ones of all of us together. And that's all I have left, so let me keep them in my childish ways...

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Listening to: Mr Brightside - the Killers

Lately I've been busy, preoccupied. Stupid assessments...

Uni sucks cuz my marks suck leading to low self esteem yada yada...

Thursday night was another great shopping and Max Brenner night with S and Kebu (in part) we should do this more often XD.

That's all i bought and a pair of stockings and minglez bought 2 belts. And a Hungry Jacks Burger Stunner deal which was mostly eaten by Kebu anyway XD I had the cold cold burger several hours later at Max Brenner.

Random photo of paper Hermes fold up Kelly bag from the Hermes site. It's rather cute.



My sister has been my major hilarity today. While in the car I overheard her and her friend talking.. about the weirdest things.. rather trivial. The conversation is basically each asking the other which option they prefer. Some questions were as follows:
"Which would you prefer in your front garden, bonsais or fruit trees"
"Would you like big fancy lights on your ceiling or not fancy ones?"
"What type of Christmas lights would you hang outside, those ones that sparkle, those ones that blink or those ones that light up one by one?"
"If you had a Santa blow up thing in your front lawn would you want a big one or a little one?"

After much more of this I couldn't take it anymore.. I butted in with
"which would you prefer a black coffin or a brown coffin?"
my sister: a black coffin, a brown coffin is an old colour
me: .... you're dead... how much older can you get...

Another one while my sister asked me to put eye cream in her eye (she has a cyst there)
me: it's not getting much better
her: so.. it doesn't hurt anymore
me: it still looks ugly
her: it's not always what's on the outside that counts!
me: *in shock* Oh really?
her: yeah! you look really nerdy with your glasses!
me: so you're saying I'm not nerdy on the inside?
her: cuz on the inside you don't have glasses!

Okay okay I like lame jokes -.-

Argh I hate being a girl and being hormonal. I'm especially moody this week. Almost cried for no apparent reason several times , even while watching March of the Penguins... yes penguins make me cry now.. but indeed they were adorable!!! S you must watch! Btw I don't think I said this properly before but I TOLD YOU SERENA'S BROTHER IS GAY! XD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know what I realised? Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. and sometimes doing the right thing doesn't mean you won't regret your decision. How do you know if you're about to make a big mistake? How do you know if the chance you didn't take, was your only one? And is there any room to turn back once you've made your choice.

The poster on my wall tells me that "it's not the chances you take but the choices you make." Perhaps I've taken the wrong chance but I'm about to make the right choice.

"It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss"

Midori.

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I hate it all. Fuck.

What is this?

Fuckity fuck.

No way in. Locked inside, locked outside in.

Mister, sir, may I come in?

Unbroken seals and chains to the earth; land bound, no strait.

There's an axe there, gleaming, take it. Chop, chop, chop.

Down it goes.

Watch the silences crash and thunder.

There's nothing there sir.

Sir?

Sir?

...Sir?

No hand reaches out to you.

The girl watched the whispering veil close in around her. The buzz of conversation floated in from the other side of the door, a quick, desperate hum. There was an audience to attend to.

"You look so beautiful!"

Empty, conventional words from a lack-witted bridesmaid.

"Where is he?"

The blatent glance exchanges contradicted the honey sweet simpers of bustling, immature girls in silvery lilac satin.

She sought the dark hanging of the Maid of Honour.

"He'll...be here. Soon. I'm sure of it."

"This is your day."

I hold no claim over this particular date, as much as any other bride. What damp spirits.

Dread.

Why do I feel nauseous? I'm feeling nauseous.

The brats giggled as they stepped into the resonating hall with a flutter. The Maid of Honour gave her one last, quick kiss before leaving her too.

There was a slight knock; her legally named father with a swift arm movement was by her side, escorting the automatic doll to her present. The door openeds and they stiffly walked out.

Music filled the air immediatedly.


Fitting, she thought bitterly, taking tiny steps towards the gold up front. Her mother cried. Her friends cried. Everyone looked at her adoringly. It was a poor sight.


The footsteps faltered and paused. She looked enquiringly at her father figure.

"Where is he?"

There was detectable hesitation.

"It's just traffic. He'll be here very soon."

She continued her journey.

She started to cry.


Ice. Gripping ice. The room fell cold and desolate despite the warm hues of idle decorations.

It had already been half an hour. The guests frowned and gossiped. Nobody smiled, but held solemn expressions on their prettied up faces.

News in its hated form arrived.

The man's suit did not look like church wedding attire.

"I'm sorry."

"Read it."

The envelope, neatly sealed and untarnished dropped to the aisle. There were no words needed.


Instant uproar.

No.

The note was soon lost to nature taking it's toll upon the earth. The white became part of the grey landscape. She staggered and lost a white suede heel to the mud. The tempest has little mercy on the forlorn figure disappearing from her guests and her wedding.

She came to the road and stopped.

Raindrops were tears and scars were the rising dirt upon prestine.

She gasped for breath, throwing off the corset. The cold made me scream, she swore and cried.

A weeping child.

Her head downcast, as was my soul.

Staring into I.


Do you remember what it was like to have it all taken away?

M, the equilibrium stays on delicate balance.

I want to tip it.

But I won't.

Do you remember?

I feel myself ripping my mind into shreds.

~~~

` S

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Uni is fucking killing me.


No, seriously.

Yesterday I had a major assignment due, it wasn't that I started late, but it was a really rushed course - fitting a whole topic in 4 weeks with only 1 lesson each week.
I had a full day from 9 to 6. We actually went overtime to around 6:40pm because of our final project. By around 5:30 I was starting to get a headache.
Now I realise that it was due to stress.
A shitload of stress.
I ended up with cramps and aches everywhere, nausea, and the general urge to just throw myself in front of a train.
On the train, I knew that I couldn't walk home in this state without getting hit by a car or something, so I called my dad.
Now, I have this self-imposed ban on asking help from my parents. Dumb, but hey. So it was hard for me to do that.
I contemplated it once on a really God-forsakenly-cold Monday, but I put my phone back as soon as I took it out. I'm that stubborn.

When I got home, the first thing I did was go to bed. I didn't even have dinner or a shower. I didn't even get changed.
I woke up at 2am wondering wtf was happening, realised, and went back to sleep.

Seriously...

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B got an LJ.


=====> http://butterflycoffin.livejournal.com/ <=====

LJ is a horrible ugly thing that I promised myself never to get and I'm getting better at breaking promises.

Don't worry, my one and only blog is this one =) I'm planning on using that ad-infested thing to host my pictures so I can post them here >w<

Anyway, makes it easier to stalk the two that didn't join Grongbits =)

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Listening to: Reclusion - Anberlin (LOVE THIS)
Reading: The Key to Rondo - Emily Rodda
Wants: Cream/grey thin woven scarf.

Duchess Serena the Sentient of Lower Bumhampton Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Baroness Midori the Expensive of Molton St Anywhere Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Lady Madame Butterfly the Rustic of Menzies on the Minges Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

His Excellency Kebu the Canine of Heffton St Mallet Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

I'm bored and procrastinating.

Why am I the only one posting anything?

~~~

` S

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Good evening, fashionistas. I come bearing news - and shopping goods. But all that comes later because I'm going to do a mind dump of amusing things that has happened in the last couple of days.

Thursday, we had a short discussion about "buttsecks" in Screen Media. Seriously. I don't think my tutor appreciated it much since it was about HIM. I'll start from the beginning. My tutor was a conscript during WWII but he chickened out and fled the country to London and wasn't able to return until 10 years later. He posed a question to us: Would we go back and serve 2 years in jail, or stay in London and wait for that fateful knock on the door when the cops come to drag you home? He stayed and lived in fear. The 'feminist' in my class said she'd rather just take jailtime and risk butt sex; needless to say the class laughed. And the trade old "don't drop the soap" phrase was mentioned.

Skip.

Today. Walked to Town Hall and passed the new Jimmy Choo store. Had a nice bag on display, but I don't like the colour. It was khaki. Walked passed the Louis Vuitton store and died at the sight I saw.

It was a green Tahitienne bag. Base colour was a pale lime green. Monogram was a dark forest green. Straps and all were white.

It was to die for.

It was the most gorgeous green, and you know how hard it is to find a decent green around here.
Anyway, outside work there seems to be a film going on because there were trucks and trailers with the name of the actor/presenter/host on it, not to mention several hangers in the dressing room. Interesting. Who is Ben Stevenson?

Oh and I'm not kidding. Click the link. The other two 'celebrities' match up.

I'm sick. 5 days and counting. I've lost half my sense of taste, and effectively, smell too. I love ginger beer. I could finall taste chips. Lasted only an hour.

I like Asian double eyelids better than Caucasian double eyelids. I find that my eyes curve more elegantly and some people have really big double eyelids and it actually looks chunky.

I'm being random.

My boobs look fake. Normal people have an even slope from neck to chest. Mine just bulge. The look like implants. Nice, but fake looking. I'm sad. I'm so narcisstic. I like staring at myself in the mirror and picking out my imperfections. For some reason, I look might fine today...almost sexy. I am definitely sticking to perms from now on.

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Good morning Inner West Sydneysiders, Serena here. Your one and only blog whore and dominatrix*.

Today is late night shopping Thursday, and we all know we'd like to kick back, sip on some champagne (or straight vodka) and dabble in chit-chat and chocolate fondue at Max Brenner.
My favourite thing to do is go shopping on my way home from university. You can hardly expect me to skip this opportunity! Kingswood is a long way away.

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