Saturday, 24 March 2012


Okay, now DO NOT under any circumstances throw dead tomatoes at me. I won't appreciate it. I'm not a poet, but neither am I motivated enough to write a whole freaking story. Sorry, Mist. Anyway, here's a poem-diddly. Like or leave.



An endless sheet of sky is dotted with birds and laced with wispy clouds. It watches us from above, yet it doesn't look down on us, and our mistakes.


Inequality is sometimes for the best. We dare not look at the sun for too long a while, or our weak eyes will burn, yet the sun is always glaring or smiling down on us, beating down on us or comforting us with its warmth, when no human can.


The colour of love, blood, and burning. Is it merely coincidental that love shares a colour with pain?


Green means two things to me; Jealousy, and nature. If you think about it, the two could be the same thing.


Clouds. Marshmallows. Snow. Vanilla ice cream.


Darkness. Shadows. Spiders. 
The fur of a wolf.
The center of the eye.


How can we interpret the world around us without colours? How can we explain each other without colours? How can we discover ourselves without colours? At the core of our souls, we can find all of these colours, and colours that we didn't even know existed. What makes us unique is which colours we decide to make prominent.

Don't blame me, I didn't create this font.

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

Random Acts of.... Randomness.

By unpopular demand, I have been forced to post another, er, post. I have no idea what to post about, so I'll just show you some pictures of my doggy.

Yes, he is adorable.

And now, to show off my lovely sundancers:

And now, maths and more.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

The Deepest Poem I Have Ever Written

This one came right from the heart. Everyone who knows me, read this. I... I want you to know how I truly feel at times.

I turned my head to face the one thing I truly longed for.

He turned to me. I was left speechless. I looked deep into the black of his eyes, and I knew he was looking into mine.
Everything slowed down.
He moved closer.
I could see that he was nervous.
I wasn't.
I was certain that this was what I wanted.
The wait was over.
He moved closer.
I moved closer.
I could feel my head moving forward, until I was so close I could kiss him.
But I didn't.
I ate the live chicken.