by Mary Frye [1932]
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
[BGmusic: Stormy Weather by Louis Armstrong]
Quote for the day:
“I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
- Gob, Arrested Development
Last week, I made the unpleasant discovery that the person I had deemed worthy of my bad poetry and daydreaming was, in fact… not.
See people, I have a disease.
I have pedestalectasis. When I find someone… interesting, I have the tendency to fling them up on a pedestal and idolize idealize all their good qualities while pretending that the bad qualities aren’t really all that bad… these flaws only make them three-dimensional. Then I find someone from film or literature to associate them to, so everything I don’t know or understand about this person is filled in and explained by their fictional counterpart’s traits and background stories. So you can imagine what a mess I end up with when everything falls into shambles.
Eventually, [sometimes thankfully] I get a wakeup call.
Usually, it comes in the form of another girl on his arm [nuuuuuu!]. But in this case, it was… an unresolvable, intolerable clash of opinions. Taste is relative. I get that. Good and bad taste is not, but it’s tolerable. Then there’s right and wrong taste, which is on a whole different level altogether.
Illustration:
Bad taste is tolerable: “So… you like Gokey… *insert abrupt topic change here*”
Wrong taste is wrong: “You’re a Nazi? Have a nice life.”
A lamp; being a moth only gets you burned.
[Sometimes it's okay to sit and wait.]
A shield; knights in shining armor are hard to come by these days.
[And I'm no damsel in distress.]
Band-aids. Lots of band-aids.
[In all colors, patterns, and sizes. Preferably sparkly.
Having a hurting heart doesn't mean I have to stop smiling.]
[BGmusic: The Beautiful Ones by Suede]
Quote for the day:
“But when I think about leaving,
I think about losing
The only love I’ve ever known
Every time I think of youMy heart starts aching
My hands keep shaking
And you know, you know, you know…It would take a strong, strong [girl]
To ever let you go.”- It Would Take a Strong Strong Man by Rick Astley
[sorry Raianne haha.]
Remember freshman year?
Out of tens of thousands of suitors, she picked you. Yes, you.
Remember that surreal and euphoric feeling you got during those first few months? For years you had thought of her as somewhat out of your league, yet there you were, by her side, asking yourself, “What on earth is she doing with a loser like me? I can’t believe she picked me.”
…gawky.
Quote for the day:
But somehow I can’t believe
That anything should happen.
I know where I belong,
And nothing’s gonna happen.- Tal Bachman, She’s So High
Well, gawkier than usual. Just like the guy whose feet were too big for his bed; nothing seems to fit… Nope, nothing has ever fit.
I guess it’s just a sign that it’s not time [to make a change, just relax take it easy...]. When things finally click between me and a guy, I’ll let you people know.
Until then, I’m going to enjoy singledom. I’m pretty happy being “loveless” anyway.
Most of the time.
[BGmusic: After Hours by We Are Scientists]
Quote for the day:
“I would do anything for love,
I’d run right into hell and back.”- Meat Loaf, I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)
I had an epiphany last night.
WARNING: THIS POST MAY BE A LITTLE GROSS FOR MANY READERS.
As the household’s official poop-scooper, I took my dog out for her to do her business like I do on most nights.
Because of her current situation, she’s been eating the worst smelling dog food on the face of the earth. Aaaand the change in her diet obviously had a direct effect on her excrement.
Before when she was on dry food, her crap came in cute little lumpy stumps [see Mr. Hankey]. But now with her PHP50/day magic in a can, they look like black moist Play-Doh snakes [I can't get hold of an image that could capture what they look like; let's just say that I've never seen sh*t like that in my entire life].
I’m not the kind of person who likes waiting around, but since she’s so cute that even when she’s doing her thing you can’t help but go “kyaaa” even a little, I didn’t mind so much. As I watched her answering nature’s call, and I noticed that she was taking longer than usual to get her business done. I guess the muscles down there aren’t as strong as they used to be.