Raymond: So that’s the one, there, the guy who raises his hand?
Amélie: Yes.
Raymond: Is she in love with him?
Amélie: Yes.
Raymond: The time has come for her to take some real risks.
Amélie: Well yes, she’s thinking about it. She’s thinking of a stratagem.
Raymond: Yes, she likes stratagems, doesn’t she?
Amélie: Yes.
Raymond: She’s a bit of a coward. That’s why I have trouble with painting her eyes.

I just finished seeing Amélie. And I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.
I’ve wasted my time on silly things and never on the things that matter.
And I’ve lost all of my chances, all the ones life’s given me.
I’ve been too insecure, introverted, and stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I love being introverted.
But sometimes, I have to risk myself a little more.
I feel like a movie eight years old, was made exactly for me.
But there’s one quote by Raymond, the artist with glass bones, that I still can’t get off my mind.

‘You mean she would rather imagine herself relating to an absent person than build relationships with those around her? ‘

I think that’s exactly what I’ve wasted my time on. But is it so wrong of me to think that those around me don’t deserve my trust?
I don’t think I’m better, I’m just not like them.
But then again, I find myself coming home to find nothing. Just emptiness.
I know there’s no one online to want to talk to me. I know my mother is busy and everyone has a life of their own.
It’s my fault I’m not in any of theirs, I’ve chosen not to be. But now it’s late and I’m tired of waiting for something to stir in the water.
I know nothing ever does for people like me anymore. You have to be famous to be remembered, or talked to.
No one ever has interest in a person hiding in the shadows. In a person that no one ever knows.
Only an ‘Amélie’ of life would. I wish that one day I met someone like that. A person that would lead me through the dark alley and into the light.

‘These are hard times for dreamers.‘

I’m starting to think that what Suzanne said was true.

Old Man at the Two Windmills: Still, true love does exist.
Suzanne: I know. After 30 years behind a bar, I’m an expert. I’ll even give you the recipe. Take two regulars, mix them together and let them stew. It never fails.

I don’t think I’ll ever know what I want.

Man in photo: She is in love.

Nino: I don’t even know her!

Man in photo: Oh, you know her.
Nino: Since when?
Man in photo: Since always.
Man in photo: In your dreams.

‘A woman without love wilts like a flower without sun. ‘

But anyways, watch the movie. She really will change your life.

Filed under: Uncategorized , afraid, alex, alex evans, amélie, coward, dream, evans, french, hate, life, love, movie, photography, quote

New Drawings

3sixty5days

clock time ticking, clock time ticking

Dr.House

Pretty flowers

The lion aka. Mr.Wolverine(one of my friends)

Filed under: Uncategorized , 3sixty5days, clock, dr.house, draw, drawing, drawings, flower, flowers, gregory house, house, life, lion

The Unknown and Beloved Monroe

I’m guessing Marilyn Monroe is now the most talked of celebrity at the moment since some never found pictures of her reappeared. I’ve always been a fan, but lets see why she’s the biggest idol of our time.
(You should definitely watch one of her movies.)

Other than being a great model and actress as you can see in the picture above, she was special.

“I’m trying to find myself as a person, sometimes that’s not easy to do. Millions of people live their entire lives without finding themselves. But it is something I must do. The best way for me to find myself as a person is to prove to myself that I am an actress.”- Marilyn Monroe
She’s…everything every woman should want to be. Hidden and waiting to be found. She never really let anyone know who she really was.

Calling her a sex symbol is totally out of character. As I say , everyone sees what you seem to be and nobody sees who you are.

Aside from being an amazingly talented woman, she was insecure, terribly insecure.
“I don’t want to make money. I just want to be wonderful, “ As if she wasn’t already!

You can see that in the way that she talked. The only way that she was ‘free’ was in front of the camera. It was a way of ‘calling out’ to people and expressing herself. She was beautiful, talented, and glorious. Still, she never really managed to see that. Being dumb would have saved her, but she was too smart for herself to handle.

Sometimes I like to read her quotes and even my mother criticizes me for my admiration towards her.
I guess some people just don’t understand others. Or they just don’t care to look hard enough. They just see what they want to see. Sometimes we should look past appearances and look into a person’s soul, not sell it for fifty cents.

In Hollywood a girl’s virtue is much less important than her hairdo. You’re judged by how you look, not by what you are. Hollywood’s a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for kiss, and fifty cents for your soul. I know, because I turned down the first offer often enough and held out for the fifty.-Marilyn Monroe

Some people just will never know how much a person can give, other than their money-winning standards.

Filed under: Uncategorized , celebrity, leaked, marilyn monroe, new, news, person, photo, photography, photos, portrait

The Frozen Dream

I stepped out into the cold night air, mask covering my face. My long coat kissing the snowy, wet ground, while the heels of my shoes tapped restlessly against the ground. My breathing was heavy and my steps were light. I walked faster as I felt the snow fall upon my shoulder. My eyes burned of the cold and my nose was hard and unmoving. It was becoming harder to reach my destination, for the ground was freezing faster. I knew I had to be there soon; this would be the only chance that I would ever have to be with him.

I wondered if he was going to be surprised, or happy, or maybe even disappointed. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. For a reason he hadn’t come to my house before. He had never even replied to my letters. Maybe I was just making a mistake visiting him. I hesitated, but moved on. I was just a minute away from his house.

When I reached the mansion on Dream Street, I thought. ‘Maybe he won’t talk to me, he didn’t talk to me before.’ I twisted my heel. ‘But I love him. I…have to.’

He sat beside the fire reading the letters Sandrine had sent him. She was beautiful, strong, and independent. all that he had ever wanted. But he was afraid of her, of the same qualities that he had learned to love. That’s why he hadn’t replied to her letters. Maybe this was a good time to visit her, she only lived 15 blocks away.

I hesitated again. I was not going to make a fool out of myself, I’m just going to go. I turned around, somehow knowing this was my last chance. I walked back to where I had come from. Out into the dark snowy night.

He knew that this was his only chance to talk to her and make things right. And so he stepped out into the cold, jacket slung over his shoulder, in case that she needed one. His black hair was dull against his bright red sweater, and his black pants felt humid against the snow.

He carried on his path, he was only 2 minutes away from her house; his body ached from the cold. He walked fast but he tripped. As he lifted his face off the ground he found himself coming face to face with Sandrine. Her hair was glued to her porcelain face and her sweater was wet. “Oh my God, Sandrine, I’m so sorry!” Then realization dawned on him. She had frozen.
“But..how! What where you doing? I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you.” A tear slipped.
“How could I be so stupid, so selfish, only thinking of myself. If I would have been there at her house like she asked me to, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Sometimes, you just have to trust your teenage hormones and go straight to your boyfriend. But when you’re older, you just have to trust your heart.

Filed under: Uncategorized , blog, boy, boyfriend, doubt, dream, frozen, girl, hate, hesitate, hesitation, life, love, lover, lovers, mature, problems, romance, teenage

It spins my head right round, right round

She stepped out in the cold swept linoleum floor  hallway of the hospital. The air smelt a sweet prickling smell, as sweet as death could smell. My nostrils flared up when they reacted to the smell. My shoeless soles were numbed by the cold and my fingers felt frozen as they stood against the wall taking hold of my weight. I let go of the wall and walked forward, to the room next to mine. In the bed next to the window was the woman that had cared for me as much as my mother does. She was sick, not with a terminal disease, but I knew she was going to die soon. She wasn’t strong enough. Her breathing was short and in gasps. If she lasted one more year, it would be a miracle.

But I also knew that I didn’t care at all about what happened to her. I did care, but not about her, more about what her death was going to make my life like. Maybe, I’d have to move in with her husband and my mother, maybe I’d have to sacrifice my obsessive exercise habits, or my eating habits. Maybe, my life would start all over, and I didn’t want that. Because as much as I’d like to start my life again, I would regret not meeting the last friend that I have made, and not having my mother around to tell me to study and focus more.

I just stared at her soon-to-be-lifeless body and wandered what my future would be like. I stared at her thick stained hands, her plump pale body, and her unpainted ash black hair at 66.  I noticed that the sheets covering her had gotten thinner and the clock in her room moved faster than all of the others, maybe as a sort of warning.

I wanted to feel sorry for her, and I wanted to be afraid for her. I wasn’t, no matter how much I tried to cry and feel bad. Sometimes I’d even want to hurt myself to feel what she felt as her throat burned and her fever rose nonstop. 

I carried my razor blade in my hand, waiting for the right moment. I walked out of the room and walked into the bathroom, staring at my reflection. I knew that I wasn’t going to do it, because I didn’t care about what happened. To me, to her, or to anyone around. I had lost all of my humanity.

“Why? Does she think that we hate her? that I have forgotten her existance?I can’t live one minute of my life without thinking about her and about her auburn hair, her sweet sick smell, and her fucking thin body! Can’t she see how much I love her?!”

“How could who see how much you loved her?” He asked the young 19 year old calmly.

“Her! Can’t you see her?” He desperately cried.

“Maybe, maybe you’re just… in love.” The doctor patted the young boy on the shoulder and walked away.

Filed under: general , cries, cry, death, die, dies, disease, down, go, hate, head, love, right, romance, round, sick, spins, spins head right round go down when love hate suicide cry cries cried romance sick young disease death, suicides, when, young

The Dreamer, the Observer, the Wise, the Liar, the Lover, and the Hater.

I stared past the window and into the outside world. There they were, the ten Evan sisters. Some blonde, some brunette, and some black haired. There was Dolly the dreamer, Sandra the realistic, Georgina the observer, Alexandria the outgoing, Willow the wise, Clarice the comedian, Cindy the liar, Miria the honest, Loix the lover, and Nadia the hater.

Dolly wrote in her yellow colored notebook, her hopes, her dreams. Sandra frowned as she saw, or rather, believed she saw the ignorance in which Dolly lived in. Georgina stared past the birds and into their nests, how they would feed their newborns, while Alexandria talked, no— flirted, with her next door neighbor, twirling her long black hair. Willow sat in the corner of their colorless square house, talking to her younger sister, Clarice, while she only ignored her making witty remarks about Willow’s advice. Cindy was trying to convince her mother about the fact that she had broken her glass window, her tall mother only nodding, while Miria convinced her father otherwise. And lastly, Loix, in the backyard garden, making love to her enemy, while Nadia fought with hers.

I felt like God as I watched them, like I had control over them. Like somehow, I wasn’t part of the world that they lived in. I lived in a whole other world, with other beliefs, plants, animals, and most importantly, people.

Sometimes I would walk past them in the hallway, sometimes we would even talk, but I knew I was never meant to be part of their group. While they would talk about birds, I would think about birds, oceans, and trees. They could never think more than one thing at a time, while I could think a million. I was a whole different species, yet , I was the same. I was all of them at once, Dolly the dreamer, Sandra the realistic, Georgina the observer, Alexandria the outgoing, Willow the wise, Clarice the comedian, Cindy the liar, Miria the honest, Loix the lover, and Nadia the hater.

In the end, their beliefs hung on thread, while mine were carved on iron. Their ideas manipulated and their actions planned. But they were all that I’ve ever wanted and not wanted to be. They were human.

Music: Dido-If I don’t believe in love

Filed under: Uncategorized

The Being of Fear

He sat at the edge of the bed, placing his dark blue socks on. His jet black hair falling over his sleepless eyes and frowning brows. The bare chest of his body exposed to the naked light of the night light. She twisted in her sleep, maybe trying to ignore the nightmares she knew as life. He was careful not to make a sound when he placed on his shoes and carried his small bag out the door.

He turned his car on and the stereo volume up. Taking a big gasp of air, he wiped away the tear that had been born in the corner of his left eye. This was his life, he lived alone for a long period of time, and when he found someone, he had to leave them. Because behind his jet black hair, ocean deep eyes, and sharp, thin nose, was hiding the damnation of a man with a curse. No matter what he did, he always hurt the ones he loved. And so he tried to distance himself away from people, but he always fell in again, for the same person.

Anna Love. She was the thing that he had always wanted, not mattering the price he had to pay to have her. In the end he always drove away, and she would always take him back, because there was no one out there for her better than him. Even if he could barely speak to her without making her cry. Sometimes he would try to hurt himself for what he’d done, but he never could. They would always fight, jokingly of course. But sometimes, he turned those fights into something that he couldn’t take back. She said things too, about his past, and the way that he was. But those things, they could be taken back.

He had come from an apparently normal woman, then she left him, leaving him to be raised by a drug user who injected him too. She taught him to steal and sell drugs, as well as other things. He grew to be a monster who hurt everyone he touched, even with the slightest touch of his breath.

He hit the pedal, in hopes that he would be out of the town, the state, the continent, the world.

“He used to live in so much fear of himself that instead of not hurting people, he did hurt them. If only he would have lived as any man lives, forgetting the past, living in the present, and hoping for the future, the only worry he could have had would’ve been how empty his gel can could be.”

Filed under: Uncategorized , afraid, fear, hate, himself, love, man, man himself fear being love hate afraid himself world drove away, world

The Unbearable Lightness of Knowing, Being, and Experiencing.

“What would you do if I based my world around you, just so that I could watch you from afar?”-Me.

“Love me, because love doesn’t exist, and I have tried every thing that does.”-Everything is Illuminated.

I feel that the beauty in this world has been clouded by the damage trust has caused. It’s worn out, exploded, rotten, and filthy enough that can’t be ignored. I have no idea what to do. Friends are enemies. Enemies are enemies. Where are allies? Where is truth? Maybe true friendship only exists in books like Everything is Illuminated, City of Bones, and Extremely loud and incredibly close. Maybe I’ve just been so closed out of the world that I haven’t noticed how much it has changed and has left me behind with my old ‘unusual’ thoughts. Pardon me if I sound weird, actually don’t. It’s like one book said. “I want boys to think I’m pretty if they think I’m pretty.”Maybe I’ve just fallen in love with the wrong person, who if I may say, lives thousands of miles away and isn’t even aware of my horrid but real existence. Maybe I’m not in love and I’m just pushing myself to think so.Maybe I just want something I can’t get. Maybe I’m wishing for too much. Maybe i just have high expectations.

Don’t follow my path. Don’t set your expectations so high that nobody reaches them. Set them high enough to be reached my some, but the minority. Don’t be stupid and foolish regretting your life and your steps. Don’t look bad and realize things you could have done better, just accept.

Is there anybody out there hearing me scream! Is there anybody out there screaming out too! I want to know I’m not alone. Maybe even know that that person I care about feels the same way, even if it’s selfish. Because that is the human mind. We are selfish, greedy, lustful, gluttonous, adulterous, and the biggest assholes walking the earth. Some of us are even worse than serial killers, we kill with words. And words are sharper than knives.

I hate you for making me feel this way and I love you for doing it. Maybe you’ll know who you are one day. Maybe my feelings will explode inside of me like an atomic bomb and I’ll die. I hope you know either way.

Love me ,because love doesn’t exist, and I have tried everything that does.

Filed under: general , life, love, hate, romance, problems, lightness, unbearable, friendship, world, society, everything, is, illuminated, being, personal, me, photography

New Novels!

Okay, so I just started writing two new novela and I’m so excited! it’s really awesome just how caught up you can get in writing. i also bought like 10 books. lovely bones by alice sebold, to kill a mocking bird, the unbearable lightness of being, eragon, Virgin suicides, hotel on the corner of bitter and sweet, perks of being a wallflower and like 5 more!

Here are the links to my stories:

If I fell in love with books I would have told you

http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2635764/1/If_I_fell_in_love_with_books_I_would_have_told_you

and

Anatomy of Lies

http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2651546/1/Anatomy_of_Lies

My other work is crap! XD

Filed under: Uncategorized

Beauty just isn’t in the beholder anymore.

What if I said that I thought I was falling for someone that I didn’t know? Someone that I have never talked to.

I have only read his thoughts and seen his face.

He’s not the best looking guy, I’ll admit.

I don’t care.

He’s intelligent, but most importantly, wise.

Enough of that, now on with the actual thing I’m writing about.

Why do people care so much about other people’s looks?

Does it help the fact that they may be arrogant and pathetic, jerks?

No. Definitely no.

I mean, being a beautiful bitch doesn’t take out being a bitch.

Looks are not the beauty of a person, I have learned the hard way. But what is a rose without it’s thorns?

If I were to only be judged by my looks, I would have no self esteem at all, and I don’t have much of it, because I may just be the farthest thing from beautiful.

 Thank the gods that there are still un-judgmental people swaying the streets.

But in the end, if you want a good looking guy, you’re selfish and spoiled. And if you want a smart, sincere but maybe not-so-good-looking guy, you haven’t looked for the best.

Filed under: general