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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


Friday, June 24, 2011

i just want someone to love me for a day.
and then i can close my heart to the world.
maybe.
(but i'd still starve my left limb off to trade you for a slater ;D ) 

now i just feel so disconnected,
out of bounds, out of control

disjointed, lost. not sure what to say.


just a bitter little man, angry at the whole world
for everything he didn't do
for every chance he didnt take.
for every friend he let slip away.
for every memory forgotten
for every day that went past him

just a little old woman, busy in the chores of life.
contented, satisfied.
jams, packed. peaches, canned. cucumbers, pickled.
brownies rising in the oven,
decadent edges, dark crumbles of love
fresh sheets, of spring flowers and lime

beauty. beautiful.

just another lost soul, floating,
trying to become. to be

we fucked up big time,
trying to fit into society's pretty molds.
we filed our nails down, filled ourselves with tolulene and formaldehyde
of liquid gold and other stuff.
we sewed our lips together and plastered on a new smile
cakes with the greasy stains of crimson reds, fuschia fun, and cherry rum.
smiling, at the catalogues of menus we'd never taste
politely declining, in our rehearsed, mechanical nods.

our rebellions never made it past revolution
rallying in arms, bare, splotched in the stains of dha, tyrosine, or was it canthaxanthin?
we stood for a state of anarchism.
a state of failure and chaos,
that we would soon come to turn our backs on
as age caught up with time.
and our wick runs short.

We're young! We're supposed to drink too much, we're supposed to have bad attitudes and shag each others brains out. We had it all. We fucked up, bigger, and better than any generation that came before us! WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL! We're screw ups. I'm a screw up. And I plan to be a screw up, until my late twenties, maybe even my early thirties.

but eventually we'll turn into the auto programmed bots of society, functions parts of clogs,
running the machines of life.

just remember that we honestly tried, we did
once when we were young.

but where and who are we now?

watch>>


listen>>

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