thanks to hilmi.. for telling me about this song.. i just adore it!

"So leave yourself intact
Cause I will be coming back.
In a phrase to cut these lips,
I love you.


The morning will come
In the press of every kiss
With your head upon my chest
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you decide to wake up.

I earned through hope and faith
The curves around your face
That I'm the one you'll hold forever.
If morning never comes for either one of us,
Then this I pray to you wherever." - Coheed and Cambria, Wakeup.

its funny, this love business.

i am starting to get sad looking at models and other women in magazines that sutlely instruct us on what a woman is.. and what a woman/girl is supposed to look like. the more i look at them..in magazines.. on television.. on my computor screen.. the more i feel like the ugly, short, fat imposter who is trying to pull off the new "young woman/girl" look.. that has been trendy since human civilization apparently.. and failing miserably. i have days and moments i feel i have no right to actually even call myself a young woman... much less a little lady. im okay with girl.. coz it doesnt hold much.. just a young internally and externally shapeless female character waiting for the moment she finds a fitting mould.

its pathetic.. this body image frustration.. the constant plumment of self esteem over something so trival. i always thought ovaries made a woman.. not the length of her legs, the size of her "tits" and ass..perfectly tanned skin.. perfect eyebrows, perfect "feminine" clothing, a small perfectly proportional body, perfect hair that tumble and cascade over lovely shoulders. i never knew it would mean wishing i LOOK like someone else.. or having so many contradictions and problems rising from wearing a mini skirt and such fixed roles. nor did i know it also meant for the female sexuality to be under the control of society. (i am not saying the male sexuality isnt either.. but face it.. whoever thinks critically would get what i mean).. even without mentioning how "sexy" a woman is now defines her.

lets just talk about stereotypes... women are happily reduced to walking sizable body parts.. a fuckable moving object.. the men exclaiming and sweating over images of naked women... or how so damm "cute" a woman/girl is. coz the man's sexuality is apparently insatiable.. continuous, understandable. love comes later. whenever the man is ready. the level of her accomplishments and intelligence simply determines how valuable her "pussy" is. then maybe it MIGHT slavage a relationship when the poor woman becomes unattractive merely by aging. the guy, regardless of age, is the hungry increasing wise wolf on the prowl. on the other hand, women are supposed to take men for being themslves.. hence the complaint that hot women somehow end up with unworthy counterparts.. coz apparently the woman searches for love and personality.. she is supposedly emotional and understanding, nuturing, soft.. sex and the size of his joystick comes later.. coz if she puts it first.. she is immediately reduced to first her fuckable body parts.. and then to labels. the men get the words "stud" and women become "sluts".. simply because it is "unnatural" for a woman to be in touch with her sexuality. and because men are.. they are allowed to be assholes.. while society banishes the sluts.

then the stereotypes of the biological side of men and women. lets see.. the men sweat in expensive gyms to cultivate lickable abdomal muscles, they bleed from fights, they fart and laugh, they ejaculate and openly beg the women to swallow in magazines.. and somehow everyone applauds and take all that in stride. a shower, deoderant and colonge is optional buddies.. the manliness of your body secretions is aparently so sexy the women wil fall to their knees and kiss your filthy cowboy boots in hope of taking them home. on the contrary.. the women "glow", they ovulate and then bleed during their periods... the whole time frantically scrambling for "solutions" to mask it. there is an amazing array of products to make a woman smell like lialics, wine, crushed violets.. so she wont smell "funny".. so she isnt allowed to be human. during ovulation.. women are your fucking buddies.. their bodies "want" babies.. they splurge on ridiculous lingerie and makeup.. gym memberships to somehow maintain their lithe-ness without packing on "too much" muscle.. to seduce the "typically" wandering eyes of the men. and then.. on her period.. everything is hush hush.. we are supposed to shut up.. and pretend it doesnt happen.. coz its "disgusting" and a "hinderance". women run in and out of drugstores in shame, a pack of maxipads tucked discretely under their arms. the discussion of bodily functions of a woman is never allowed. well.. except for the overrated and exaggerated orgasm 62% of women admit to faking every now and then.

so.. whos allowed to be "themselves"? am i being myself? are you?

.. to be continued.

been reading my old emails as i resisted the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. i wonder what happened in the middle. i always thought i am a consistent person.. am i? or maybe i have just grown to want and expect more? it sucks the most when happy past memories hurt now. you look at the debris lying around you. but then again.. we dont want to lose them. such contradictions. how will i ever learn to juggle magic and logic? the loss of myself?

i have spent mostof my day in bed.. just thinking, daydreaming, reading.. now and then dozing off to voices of musicians singing of worlds strange and familiar.

why did you mess with forever

i have to admit, i had wanted to give up. on everything. i wanted to give up because i knew i only had myself to blame for making myself a victim. it can only be my own fault for being lonely, angry, miserable. i asked for too much in too short a time. i sought to conquer a terrain i have absolutely not idea about. i did not plot and execute my plan accordingly. i was too impatient and emotional. now here i sit hours upon hours within the confines of my room too aware of what mistakes i made.

start over i guess. its been so long.

this sudden injury. to have you go away.
love.the one thing i'd love to hate.
its strange a strange emotion, having to remind myself you are not within reach. i had thought you were far.. but this is a dull ache at the back of my head, my chest, my words. it is also strange how much i want you, how much i want to tell you.. the colours of the sky today, my thick comfy socks, my dreams.
maybe i miss u.
come back soon.

i cant help but feel the urge to chasten myself for being the weepy old romantic i am, evident just from my blog - the celebration of the tortured soul that burns at the tip of a lover's tongue, a crushed aluminum can clattering noisely, but unnoticed, along the side of the road while cars speed by as frozen rain falls from the overcast sky.

fraility, mallability and softness were not attributes i would have celebrated a few years ago. what caused this change? what happened to the impenetrable heart, refusal for intamacy, my stiff, unwieldy desires? what happened to the petulant girl who fought fiercely for what she thought she believed in, regardless of who it hurt, just by the words being said. for a while she thought she did everything right, she got what she wanted, she thought she was a glowing inextinguishable light.

it would be easy and dull to say puberty happened. or maybe certain things had forced me to stop resisting softness, and to embrace my emotions, allow myself to be shaped and moulded, rather than to shape and mould. it is only natural, to do what is right and instructed. maybe i just let my "true self" through?

at this point, i find myself confused. how to i tell the story of a person? a person who has lived within me, as me, and is me. do i know myself best? or does someone else who knows my life?

the light in your eyes dim,
your oblivious touch has become foreign and cold.
surely you cannot blame me for recoiling in unrecognition and hurt;
the words i say;
the words i dont.

i thought by numbing myself it would work, but im sick and tired of being so sick and tired, disappointed with my disappointment. hopeless with the absurd power you hold.

what fell through the cracks?

...

i feel like a great loser. nothing is turning out the way i hoped and imagined. i feel like a failure in every aspect of life. school, love, family, work, friends.. everything. i feel helplessly redundant, useless - a cumbersome and hideous outgrowth of society, my patheticness a slap in my face. i cant even bear to look in the mirror.

every day my faith burrows itself into the dirt a little bit more.

...

and there is no one to hold me anymore.

maybe i will just keep sinking.

careless.
you have become the greater world.
i stand,
ready to leap.
and perhaps,
fall.

...

why do the world behind our eye lids and the one we see differ so?

...

im slowly losing my mind.

todays blog will include random responses to edwards blogs, given we havent spoken for months:

a mentor. why do we need one? a trusted teacher and counselor, a guide. why wouldnt we want to throw ourselves into life with abandon, relish in its unpredictability and suprises? to allow oursleves to gravitate toward worlds that pull at us with its inexplicable forces, and react the way we were "naturally" conditioned to? why are we the way we are?

why do we need justify, to rationalize, to know what is right and wrong, the thick, solid earth under the soles of our "caged" imaginations? do our imaginations even deserve to be called remarkable? or worthy? why do we feel the need to justify our tiny lives? the thoughts streaming from minds however big and small, yet so petty and inconsequential, only except to ourselves? why do we do what we do?

we ask for faith, a someone, something, to tell us what to do, how to do it and why. we refuse to consider the possibility that we are but insignificant. reasoning being the only excuse and purpose we have to multiply; and behave like the tiny giants we are, stomping on other lives, inventing crumbling walls made out of intangible commodities that somehow land and truly destroy, creating similar monsters that ravage and rape all that surrounds the ones in control, while perhaps the trascendent watch and chuckle. vapors of prayer swirlling up to their oblivious eyes, as we hang from their lips.

but who made right and wrong? who invented morals? the ones with money or the laughing gods? why do individuals find themselves tormented and confused, yearning for a role model? the other individual that we trust somehow represents all that is right and appropriate in our eyes. but whos eyes are we seeing through?

maybe, edward, while u find the absence jarring, my questioning is what messes me up. i dont know what i dont understand.

.

conrad's heart of darkness, the lord of the flies, the beach, oscar wilde, baudrillard, kristeva.. etc.. the books/writers(of whom i have happened to read, albeit a tiny number) who expose the replusiveness of man(to clarify, i mean humankind in generally, to establish my lean toward politically correctness).. especially the modern man. the stink of the rot and burning flesh discretely covered by expensive perfumes made from crushed plants, hidden by the fur made from squealing animals, the sound of bank machines, the cocking of guns, the pouding of acid rain and hail stones in a tropical country. optimisim, my friend, of which i am glad you still harbour, isnt even an option for me anymore. im just waiting for the day we explode and slaughter each other with sharp tree branches. :)

.....

i only want you to see me as the most beautiful girl in the world.

haha found this on msn.com:
Leo profile
Leo can be among the most arrogant, self-absorbed signs of the zodiac, but also among the most tender and generous. As the lion king of the cosmos, you are a force to be reckoned with — and you'd have it no other way. Full of ego and the insecurity that inevitably accompanies it, you demand respect. The successful Leo, however, learns how to command it. You thrive on the esteem of others, but privately your self-esteem wavers. A natural performer, you can be a powerhouse of creative talent, charisma and instinct. You crave the spotlight and take great pains to grace it. But as you mature, your opinion will grow more independent of others. You'll seek a quieter dignity and nobility, not unlike that of an elder statesperson. Great actors may begin by upstaging their colleagues, but they eventually let their art speak for itself. You'll come to view self-promotion as a crude distraction and get out of your own way. At that point, your devotion to longtime loyalists will overwhelm your temptation to indulge lusty flatterers. As life experience humanizes you, appearances will still matter, but they'll take a back seat to true feelings.

my mars+venus sign:(how frigheningly true)
Mars: capricorn
Venus: libra

You're driven, ambitious and tough. Serious about relationships, you play for keeps. Casual affairs and kinky play aren't your bag, baby.

Your Mars is in capricorn True, you have natural poise and reserve. But that shouldn't be interpreted as weakness. You need respect and you'll earn it — or else you'll leave. Your innate trustworthiness makes you a dependable mate who's willing and able to commit (even if it does take a while). You enjoy lots of wholesome sex — no one would accuse you of being kinky.

Your Venus is in libra Your natural state is to be in a relationship, and even when single you're always juggling prospects and options. You know how to treat your lovers well. They enjoy being with you because of your looks and sense of style. Underneath it all, however, you can be high-maintenance. You're likely to say whatever someone wants to hear in order to keep a relationship stable.


i kinda agree with it. :) finally one i can relate to. haha.

ill save my newyears speech for another time my shoulders arent hurting.
....