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Welcome♥

i hope you like oranges. and kiwis.
and lemons.and oranges.
i like oranges. they're really pretty. and nice.like goldfishes. and the sun.


Location

Floating in dreamland. where all the foods are imaginary.
and all the people are nice.
And even if they weren't we could always wake up.

Oneday.

tomorrow. (maybe)

The Girl



>>is way too fat.


Height: 5'7"
CW: 106 (47.7kg) D:
HW: 119


Old Goals: 112!

GW1: 110! (50)
by 23 mar


GW2: 107 (48.5)
by 31 mar

REACHED!
(11 Nov)

GW3: 105 (47.5)
by 20 Nov


GW4: 103 (46.5/47)
by 31 Nov


GW5: 100 (45.5)
by 31 Dec



UGW: 99 (45)


UUGW: 97

UUGW: to be ethereal. weightless. like those beautifully crafted paper dolls and the air.


Other Goals:

10K REACHED!
21K REACHED!
42K
RSS


Lost Souls

Locations of visitors to this page


site analysis

Layout ©

Courtesy of:
Designer: manikka
Resources: 1 2 3 4 5 6


Sunday, September 25, 2011

i think i love you.

but how do you love a girl raised on fairy tales and disney films
for happy endings and animations
how do you love someone with her head stuck in the cloud half the time
lost in her own world.

sorry that i'm not letting you in.
i wish you'd ask for the key though.
but that would be too much of a hassle.
why would anyone want to sign themselves up for this anyways.

for someone filled with impossibilities.

the same movies that filled me up with dreams,
are the ones that told me of my imperfections

elusive happy endings

girls have to be pretty, skinny, doe eyed,
light on their feet, flawless

even if we can't be anything else, we'll be skinny. yes?

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Thursday, September 8, 2011

Half a life.
Spent trying to figure out
What to do
What to do right,
And what not to do wrong

Spent all our days trying to learn, the rules of life
The rules, we spent the next half of our lives learning to forget.

Trying to disguise our accents,
And ourselves
Open up, open up a little bit more.

We’ll sap you from your being
A hollow shell of who you could have been all along

Before we sold our dreams for a box of eyeshadow and a tube of foundation
We were not born beautiful
We were born ourselves, unique

Like ancient boxes in antique stores,
Years of sophistication, cold from restraint

Maybe if we stopped trying,
We’d be good enough

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