every dark moment is followed by a brighter one every rainy night is followed by a day of sun. when you change your attitude so too does your world i've walked down lonely paths i've seen hell unfurled. what goes down must come up even if my glass is half empty i can always fill it up.
would time apart offer a brand new start? but what about the part of my broken heart? how do you become strong when you're not alone for long? do you know if you can swim in a larger pond when you haven't even gone? how do you know when it's time to go and when is it just time to go with the flow?
with a soft fleshy center just to bite into it is worth the 365 days to endure. sugary sweet what a colorful high now i must wait for next easter oh how will i ever get by? thank heaven there's a peep for every celebration now i know what inspired the definition for elation!
my dog has major PICA. according to me, it stands for: Persistent Ingestion of Caustic Additives
She eats anything and everything, especially distasteful inedibles such as poop, straw, paper, grass, string, clothing, fur, parts of her toys, hair, and a combo of these things. It's gross. No wonder she's got G-I problems. It's actually a common behavior you see in people with mental retardation, pervasive developmental disorders, schizophrenia, or neurological disorders. Or you see it in dogs.
mad·ness 1: the quality or state of being mad as a: rage b: insanity
jealousy, insecurity all things i own depose the queen and give me her throne. eat me alive then spit me out don't spare me the misery but leave me with doubt. penetrate my armor then put salt on my wound take what you need but don't leave too soon. there is a storm brewing pouring torrential hate when push comes to shove there's no escape from impending fate.
my last relationship can be summarized with the following metaphor: he injected me with penicillin repeatedly, thinking the more antibiotic in my system, the more likely my infection would heal and i would be restored to full and complete health. he had only good intentions. he could not understand why, with the quantity of penicillin in my system and the time and effort he spent trying to nurse me back to health, i was not getting any better. in fact, i seemed to be getting slightly worse or even to develop immunity towards the injections. alas, 5 years later, it was realized that i did not have an infection at all. i simply had really bad allergies to an unfitting relationship.
everybody wants to be a rock star. everybody wants to be famous. everybody wants to get discovered. every guy wants to serenade the ladies as they strum and pluck their guitars to don't-call-me-just-to-talk lyrics and make the other guys jealous. this guy did a pretty good job last night at the Candlelight. http://www.myspace.com/joshdamigo he's pretty versatile, which was why i was impressed. the others ones were good too but they weren't selling their cd's there. i even bought his acoustic EP to support local music. boys, u can strum your guitars all you want, but john mayer still takes the cake. my body is his wonderland. :)
I woke up yesterday morningand found my pug nestled under my arm like a teddy bear. Her soft rhythmic purring in my ear. Her less than favorable smells. I don't know how she managed to get under there but she did, just like how she always manages to make me fall in love with her every time I look into her humongous bug eyes.
Hug a pug today. You'll be surprised at how much love you can feel for another living thing that isn't even bourneof your loins.
I love him but I doubt him I love him but I hurt him I love him but I upset him I love him but I piss him off I love him but I confuse him
We don't mean to hurt the ones we love. Sometimes we just do. We don't mean to take people for granted, or use them as doormats, or crutches, or life support, or therapists, or expect them to understand while we drown in our own emotional turmoil, or to be patient while we feel sorry for ourselves and figure out what we want, but we do. I don't mean to do alot of things, but I still do them. I don't have an excuse. I just happen to be lucky enough to be with someone who's still sticking around. I'm a diamond in the rough. With enough pressure, I can rival anything that comes out of those DeBeers coalmines.
While paying absurd prices at IHOP or IHOPEthefoodisclean, my girlfriends and I deliberated over the different styles in which an egg can be prepared. Scrambled, sunny side-up, over-easy (my fave), over-medium (which we later learned about), over-hard, poached, florentine, benedict, boiled, raw. There's also (steam-)basted, shirred, baked, and different styles under each. Never knew eggs could be so complicated. I was thinking it would be neat to hybridize different styles into a new one and to name it after yourself. One could have a field day with this one. A Lusa-style egg would be warm and mushy in the inside.
Speaking of eggs, why did the chicken cross the playground?