Tuesday, 23 December 2008


I found this on Mon's blogspot, it was written by our good friend Elyza. I can't really explain the feeling i got when i read this, all i know is that it's so beautiful, and so true.

We can lie to ourselves sometimes becaues we want to believe the better thing. But no matter what, the truth hurts, the truth freaking hurts. Its easy to lie nowadays, with all the make up and pretty smiles we put on. If having things out the way you wanted them to is a measure of a succesful life, then some would say I'm a failure. The important thing is not to be bitter over life's disappointments. Learn to let go of the past.. and recognise that everyday won't be sunny. And when you find yourself lost in the darkness of despair, remember that its only in the black night that you can see the stars, & those stars will lead you back home. So don't be afraid to stumble and fall.. because most of the time the greatest rewards come from doing the things that scare you the most. Maybe you'll get everything you've wished for... Maybe you'll get more than you could have imagined..Who knows where life will take you? The road is long and in the end, the journey is the destination.

All I Want for Christmas

It's funny how as you get older, the less magic you see around you. A child can concoct a whole world with just a little imagination, and an adult? An adult refuses to see something beyond it's material.

I remember how psyched I used to be about Christmas. It was Christmas! A magical season of happiness and presents, of course. I even made my sister bake a batch of cookies and lay them out on the coffee table for Santa, of course I wouldn't let her get all the credit from Santa, so I sloppily poured a glass of milk, most of it hit the floor instead of the glass, but that didn't matter. I stayed up as late as I could, trying to disguise myself behind the staircase banisters so Santa wouldn't see me, ocassionally I got peckish and stole a cookie from the plate, I thought my family would think Santa had eaten all of them so it didn't make a difference right? I think the left the plate with 1 cookie by the end of the night.

I know I got tired waiting for Santa, and my mother constantly telling me he wouldn't show up if I waited for him, so the fear of no presents on Christmas was enough to drive me to bed in a flash.

The next day, the little school socks I had hung up by the window were filled with chocolate and candy, I jumped up on my bed and screamed "Santa came last night!", all our socks were filled to the brim, and the Christmas Tree was bombarded with gifts.

The festive spirit was so strong in those days, making everything seem so much more joyous and.. enchanting. Today, Christmas doesn't feel like the most magical time of year, it feels like another hassle of getting gifts for everyone and spending all your money.

So Santa, all I'm asking for is a little enchantment this Christmas Season. Make it a memorable one, Please?

Monday, 22 December 2008

Inspire me, Please?

photo by jam343

These writing spells come and go. Sometimes they overwhelm me, like a river bursting its banks and flooding the field, drowning the little villagers and destroying homes with beautiful yet grotesque ideas. Other times, it doesn't come. I wait. And wait. And wait for this drought to end, for a single drop of rain, acidic or not, to fall into my mind. Today, there's nothing.

Image from Chrissie White

Won't you help? Be the one to hose me down with the water I desperately need. I'm begging you. Inspire me, Please?

Sunday, 21 December 2008

Cheap Cigarettes & Wine- All we need for a good time.

A dark bar. Dim lights. Minimal conversation.

Smoke wafts in midair, moving around in wisps, embedding itself into your clothes. You look up, and eye the mysterious stranger in the corner. Shoulders slumped over, his strong jaws unshaven. Raw; Manly. The scarce amount of light casts shadows upon the room, highlights the straight bridge of his nose, hidesthe rest of his face. There's an untouched bottle of beer on his table, and a cigarette in his hand. He's looking out the window, into the midnight sky and dirty snow lining the sidewalks. He's thinking deeply, or maybe not at all. You wonder what he's like, what makes him who he is. You want to walk over, you want to know him, but you don't want to interrupt his beautiful isolation.