29 Jun 2008

the button theif

yesssss. im not that useless after all. ive learnt how to stitch. in the learning stages, i got pretty annoyed because i have never been able to do petty things, like putting thread through the needle as its eye gazes back at me. i shouldnt really brag about it but its a big thing for me because before today, i couldnt stitch at all. now im stitching buttons on a cushion cover. am in the middle of making a button cushion. ive been going all round the house, secretly ripping buttons off peoples clothes, decided that was a little mean, then decided to buy them off ebay. i am hoping that my next post will be a picture of my completed button cushion.

now is time for a few questions that have been playing on my mind. questions that i havent been able to find the answers to, despite searching high and low. what do you do when the little things you hold onto for the sake of sanity have died a painful death? you can delete someone off a chat list but is it possible to delete them from your heart? if you cant delete them from your heart, is it love? in a perfect equation, does eternal love equal to endless suffering? is there such a thing as a perfect equation or are we all just blinded by something that doesnt really exist? love. it kills me everyday but i somehow manage to come back to life. its like a suicide show, set on repeat. gawd, i always end up writing about love and how its killing me. there is just no escape is there? a thought crossed my mind as to what would become of me when i get married and youre not my other half. i didnt know what to think so i decided not to think that far, and buried that thought deep somewhere in my head, with a pile of other things not to think about. yet. i take each day as it is thrown at me.

anyways. best be off.
thank you muchly for reading my crap.

p.s. dear I. i hope im not half but fully forgiven.

zaza at 11:43 pm

11 angels shot me

26 Jun 2008

only God can judge me.

zaza at 8:29 pm

7 angels shot me

25 Jun 2008

i believe

i believe that if you dont want to communicate with someone, you dont have to. dont be forced to love someone and get on with them for the sake of someone else because in truth, this someone else truly doesnt give a fucking shit about you. instead of critically analysing and looking down on someone, look beyond what meets the eye. look beyond the obvious. no one 'pretends' to act sad. youre just an illiterate little bastard so you wont know. you make me hate this skin that i am in. i just hope that one day i will have the verbal strength to mock the shit out of you, then smile and ask you what it feels like. then when you start telling me what it feels like, i will cut you right off and shove words into your mouth and make you nod at every word i say. just like you have always done.

zaza at 1:09 pm

11 angels shot me

22 Jun 2008

1) Take the nearest book lying beside.
2) Read three lines from 5th sentence of page 123.
3) Make five more people do the same.

the nearest book is The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.

page 123: Dodo raised her six children - and would no doubt raise her seventh - on rice crispies, peanut-butter-and-marshmallow sandwiches, vanilla icecream and gallon upon gallon of Hoods milk. she got a special discount from the local milkman. everybody loved Dodo, although the swelling size of her family was the talk of the neighbourhood.

i tag illusions, lizzie and all others who havent been tagged by this one and would like to find themselves in a similar situation.

zaza at 10:51 pm

5 angels shot me

20 Jun 2008

listening to Auld Lang Syne by Mairi Campbell and Dave Francis.


i think i will die untouched; completely submersed and drowning in love with not a life saver in sight. when a life needs saving, life savers hide in their hidey holes and gaze out at you; wondering how long you will survive like this, wondering how long you will exist on one persons words that circle your head everyday and corrode the living daylights out of you.

people. i say this because i care and i know you already know this and you dont chose to or you often dont have much say in the matter. but do not ever fall properly, head over heels, psychotically in love because you will end up like a beautiful building after it has suffered an earthquake and no one will care. your whole life will be right infront of you as nothing but a zillion little shards of broken glass. and you will try so hard to put the pieces back together and make everything whole but the shards of glass will pierce your fingers and make them bleed.

yet dont you find yourself thinking that what is a little blood when you have love? what is a mountain of pain when you have the strength to love somebody? these thoughts seem mere and belittle themselves when you find yourself being caressed from the inside by the rays of love. its not right. it aint right. my advice: dont keep justifying your fucking actions. dont keep holding on to something that has gone. dont look back and wish for things to change because it just doesnt happen.

now i too have a wish.
i wish i could take my own fucking advice.

zaza at 12:07 am

13 angels shot me

17 Jun 2008

a key being turned in the lock,
a train going through a dark tunnel.

... the key broke,
and the train crashed!

zaza at 11:22 pm

6 angels shot me

14 Jun 2008

i felt the sudden urge to blog and give life to my thoughts so here i am. and now my head has gone blank and i have nothing to say but this, self-thought words, rusting away with deep meaning attached to them:

the time we have given in life is no doubt limited, but love exists limitlessly even after we mortals expire.

i hate myself for being such a love struck fucker. but there you go. some things just last forever.

zaza at 1:04 am

10 angels shot me

11 Jun 2008

its amazing what you can pick up at the library. i picked up this. http://whatcolourisgrief.co.uk/book/index.htm this is the online version, but the printed copy is exactly the same. its amazing i loved every bit of it. infact im going to do one of my own. its poetry and art. writing words to go with images. ive brought a sketch pad, paints, felt tips and glitter. im going to call it 'pages of my burning life.' i need to think of a front cover. so atlast ive found something to keep me busy during Summer! and after my book is complete, i shall give it to someone special. whoever that will be. unleash thy creativity cells.

p.s the hayfever is still there and is molesting me. grrrrrr!

p.p.s. sylvia plath is a fecking genius.

zaza at 6:04 pm

2 angels shot me

10 Jun 2008


zaza at 1:16 pm

0 angels shot me

9 Jun 2008

if someone labels you as 'crazy', do you have to live up to that label that they have so generously given you? ive been really ill for the past few days. hayfever = bitch.

A warning sign,
I missed the good part then I realized,
I started looking and the bubble burst.
I started looking for excuses.

Come on in,
I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in,
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,
That I started looking for a warning sign.
When the truth is,
I miss you.
Yeah the truth is,
That I miss you so.

A warning sign,
You came back to haunt me and I realized,
That you were an island and I passed you by,

You were an island to discover.

Im tired, I should not have let you go. So I crawl back into your open arms.

coldplay. warning sign.

if someone asks me 'what is love?' i will smile and walk the other way. then a few years later, i will ask them the same thing, and they will smile and walk the other way. i dont care, or atleast i think i dont.

i know youre reading this.
i hate you for what you did but i dont care.
cos what goes around comes back around.

zaza at 10:45 pm

3 angels shot me