HELLO.
Do you listen to yourself
Never live for someone else
Do you like the way you feel
Nothing hurts when no one's real
She wants to shake this scene
Yeah she wants to shake with me
She's not looking for the holes in all the lies
I won't let you fall until you let it go
ART.
Thursday, April 19, 2007, 7:01 PM
now come one come all to this tragic affair
wipe off that makeup, what's in is despair
so throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot
you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not
if you look in the mirror and don't like what you see
you can find out firsthand what it's like to be me
so gather around piggies and kiss this goodbye
i'd encourage your smiles I'll expect you won't cry
another confusion, my funeral jag
here's my resignation, I'll serve it in drag
you've got front row seats to the penitence ball
when I grow up I want to be nothing at all!of course the last line isn't true.
when i grow old, i'm going to retire. when i retire, i want a big house. but to get a big house, i need to work my arse off. i don't like working my arse off. i like chocolate, candy, anything that can keep me from getting dehydrated and people. people make me look good sometimes and they make me look bad sometimes. people who make me look bad deserve to get trashed big time. so they should learn to stfu before i learn to shoot a gun.
"when's that?"
NOW.
*BANG*
*SPLATTER*
shit, blood.
back to my point. now that i am working my arse off although nobody is paying me to, what do i get in return? conflicts, backstabbed, being vertically challenged, suffering severe mental insanity from lack of beauty sleep.
but there are the good parts, yes? i still get; friends, a social life, chocolate, fries, space, air, thought, self-efficiency, parents.
the list goes on. when lists get too long, you're supposed to tell the person that the list is too long. and thus, we don't die tragic, we live tragic. tragic lives don't make us, we make them. and yes, i want to retire old and happy.
and i want to retire only after i'm satisfied with how i've dealt with this tragic life. i want to be a poet so the closest i can get to that is being a journalist, maybe? i still haven't chosen my path, it's practically like the mouth of a river. so many distributaries. SIGH.
i met jingwen and adilah today. we talked about things and more things. unmentionable things and random things. and the last thing i talked about with jingwen was that i was a different person. the new me was untrustable. i am not going to argue with her because it is her point of view but i realise that when you move on, you change. especially now, we're in secondary one. we can be ourselves and not someone your friends want you to be or think you are. i passed of as a fierce, boyish, nonchalant and not squeaky person in primary school but now that i am in secondary one, i act a whole lot different because from my experience, i want to be in such a way that people will accept me. but the true me is so much more different, i've realised. i'm a poet at heart, i guess. deep and thoughtful. and yes, i look like an emo on the outside but truthfully, i don't think like one. i get pissed off easily, i get cranky too. i'm a whole different person from what everybody sees me as. even
he doesn't know what the real me is like.
let's say; i want the world to know the real me someday. someday you'll know it, and you'll accept
that me, i hope.
I HATE EPIPHANIES! especially at dinnertime.
BYEBYE.
`shazlinnn.
P.S;
i heart
you. (:
i'm glad we had that talk.
i'm serious.
