daily entry ! sickly in pink

As a kid, I was named “The Pink Lady” for my skillfully coordinated ensemble. I had the works: pink dress with pink frills, pink shoes with pink socks, pink ribbons to decorate my pigtails and it wouldn't have been complete without pink undies. This of course, was the work of my mommy dearest. So, I sucked up any dignity a 5 year old could have at that age and swore that when I was old enough, I would swear off pink for all eternity. And so, I have. And this…I guess…is the outcome of my years of humiliation and shame.

Some people wonder why I choose to wear black most of the time. Some try to psychoanalyze the whole act as a sign of a Goth truly disturbed. While others think its due to my excessive lack of self-confidence.

Seriously, though, I never thought about it. I always just thought that I looked more pleasing in black. It hides those unwanted bulges and matches with pretty much everything. Can’t it be as simple as that?

poem ! up on my hill

the grass so cold on the top of my hill,
their breathing boiling my blood,
their sins controlling my hands.

shaking my head as i stare down to my silver pill.
i watch them from my hill
see colors of red and gray.

now i can fly though for only awhile.
then i must return
and walk the rest of the mile

return before they look up
and see that i'm no longer
no longer on the top of my hill.

daily entry ! I still hang your heart around my throat

As i poured water over him, i realized i might have reached my lowest.

He was asleep...while i was crying myself to sleep in the room opposite of him.

When i couldn't take it anymore, i walked downstairs, head for the kitchen and grabbed myself a glass of water. I then made my way back up to his room.

It hadn't gone as i imagined. And it hadn't felt as good as i wanted it to. In the end, he had me again.
Had me holding him in my arms, rubbing his pains away.

...while mine still welled up inside.

I listened for the rest of the night till the sun came up. He cried on my shoulders and recited the same stories again... hinting that somewhere in him, he still had feelings for me, that he wasn't good enough for me and that i would be the one that would end up unhappy.

I didn't want to fall for it anymore... I kept listening to him and finally seeing him for the person he only is with me.

I called and the night answered. And made me cry.

No one heard me....

Only the night who stole my tears.

daily entry ! happy birthday mummy dearest

I gave her a kiss last nite while she was lying on her bed singing happy birthday to herself. 

Ya... my mom's just silly like that. She was clapping to the song and laughing in between  

"...happy birthday to me..." She's still so cute.

announcement ! it begins

My friends call me Zales, Azazel, Azebra, Ela, Spepot, Chipmunk, Toothy,  Oompa Loompa, Shorty or Shortstuff... 

You'll find out why sooner or later. 

Just read on.