In the way that we're constantly moving,

reminds me of home

I like this, this whole time on my hands thing.

It isn't half bad I think.

I'm listening to songs on repeat, hanging out with JessC (by that I mean trying out new songs on her),

writing.

Or maybe I'm reading and I think I'm writing when I'm actually not.

That's a thought. No, no, I do actually believe I've been writing.

Half awake this morning, I found myself reaching for her, and realized my bed didn't have anyone else in it besides myself.

):

I've had breakfast with Greys' Anatomy and finished off the cup of coffee I made. I might go get myself another cup, it's pretty damn good coffee, you must know.

Of course, this morning being the morning that it is, I'm working my coffee machine with my bed hair and smudged eyeliner while still in my oversized tee that's falling off my shoulders and I'm thinking,

"I want to make her coffee in the mornings."

I'll trade you kisses for the bits of yourself that you've left with me

Traces of you on my skin

The way you breathe my name
And let me melt into you

The animals were gone

Cos waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup

Only sometimes,

I stop for a minute or so, and kind of wonder how important I am to you.

Secret-

I should've told you, when I could,

instead of biting my lip and burying my nose into your hair.

Because that's all I wanted to do-

Tell you over and over and over again.

Coming in one week late

SO

Guess who I got to dress up for a Masquerade Ball?

(:

They said Black-tie and yeah sure, skinny ties look cute and all but I sorta thought...

hmmm. Bow tie. And suspenders.

And a mask.

Well the mask would come later.

End product!

Why hello, cutie(:

Clearly I love playing dress up.

A day in the life of an actor

That's time I won't get back.
For some reason, this is affecting me a bit more than usual.
This sucks

shades.

They're arranged according to shades, going from light to dark and then fading into the next colour. Sharpened to a point, and all at the exact same length, the collection stretches from one end of the table to the other.

She's on the far side of the room, closest to the window, bending down so that she is eye-level with the colour pencils on the table's surface. The door opens and another steps in. She watches the girl for a while, as she darts from one spot to the next adjusting the colour pencils by infinitesimal degrees.

"What's wrong?"

The girl barely looks up from the dark shade of red she's got her index finger on.

"Nothing."

"Nothing or nothing you want to tell me?"

She stops. She pulls a colour pencil out of the entire spectrum of colours in front of her.

"I don't know, you know. It's like, it's supposed to be red, but it's not. It's more like a brown. And it's not maroon. It's not...I don't know. I've got all the shades of red here, and all the shades of brown and this is in between."

The other girl waits, her arms folded and her legs crossed at the ankles.

She stops staring at the colour pencil in her hand and looks up at the other.

"I don't know."

"You don't seem like you want me here very much so, I'm just going to go."

She looks down at the dark shade of red again. Or brown. She can't quite make up her mind.

"I'd actually like to stay but, y'know." The other says, shrugging, before backing out the room.

If you wanted to stay, do something, do anything, make something right, talk, figure something out, try, anything,

if you wanted to, you would.

You would, and you would've done it.

It's a palate of colours, bleeding into each other almost. There are spritzes and dashes, intensity that soars and dips.

There's also an empty space.

It used to be a dark shade of red. Or brown.

We couldn't make up our minds.

Sugar

The taste of you left on my lips

Smitten

(:

----

There was a conversation this afternoon that left me sort of a little bit sad. But I suppose there're just some things that will come by and I will not be able to do much else besides absolutely nothing.

I love you.
And a lot of times I wish that were the only thing that matters.

Mentor

"Hey Charis," she says as I'm climbing out the car right after hugging her, "you're very precious to me."
Her words catch me off guard, I'm smiling, but I feel like I'm about to cry too.
"Thank you. Am I really? How's that?" I reply, reaching for my bag in the back.
"I just, realize things sometimes. I want to watch you grow."

"I'm really lucky to have you," I say as I wave goodbye.

Some people have talked about an appeal to Emotion, an insincerity. How the proof is in the money they pay you, because it's the most tangible.
But it's not like that, not always. I understand fully, an appeal to emotion and some people being like that. I do know, but it doesn't always hold true.
Some people really are honest and good, some people really do just want the best for you.

The proof is in the pudding-
You'll see it in full clarity in the quality of production at these people's hands.
And if the proof is also in the money, then I have nothing to say because I've nothing to complain about.

Maybe you don't think so but everytime I think about it, I do think,
"Truly, I'm lucky to have her."

I just realized

what I like the most about you,

and why.

And why I'm in love with you

Somehow I know, I've been waiting my whole life to see

You standing there

You are the girl that's been running around in my-
Head, I finally found you
I've been dreaming about you
You are the girl that's been running around in my dreams

Way past 11:11 now

I wish you kissed me. Like you said you'd been wanting to all day. I think a little part of me held on to that. I wanted to kiss you too.

I wish tonight didn't go the way it did. I wish it hadn't ended up like that. I wish I hadn't had to tell you what happened.
That being said I've been told countless times that there are just some things we can keep to ourselves, there are things the other doesn't need to know. I know this. I've kept things from people before, consciously and subconsciously. I'm not sure if I wish I was less honest with you, but I do wish being honest didn't always make me feel like this at the end of it.

I wish I could promise you that something like this won't ever happen again. I wish I could promise you to be hyper aware of my behaviour/vibes/WHATEVER so that I know exactly what I am or am not doing. Then I can promise not to ever behave as such and will not ever find myself in a situation of any kind.

I wish your words didn't hurt me as much as they did.

I wish my cab had crashed.

I wish this was easier on you.

I wish I wasn't crying myself to sleep. Because it's been a while since I've done that and I've never actually been a huge fan of it.

I wish you kissed me.
Correction, I wish I didn't wish so much that you'd kissed me tonight.
I wouldn't have either.

Truth or dare?

To be completely honest-
I'd actually been looking forward to tonight- both dinner (which went brilliantly) and after.

I said in this case, you can't just blame one person.
Because to be fair, I might've done something to perpetuate it and not even known. Also because people can, have, and often will shove people off, regardless, and I don't know how to do it like that.

I know you weren't mad at me. But some of the things you said stung. Wow. Like, ouch.
I am aware, of course, of how much cleaner she was/is and how I come with my own station wagon of things to deal with. But, wow.
Then again, you're not the first today. Not that I'm giving out prizes.

The best thing that could've happened to me on my way home, would have been for my cab driver to swing round the corner so wildly that he was unable to avoid the oncoming car crashing into us.
But dammit, I'm out of wishes today.

It's back to work tomorrow.
For once, I'm not all hopped up.

This will be an interesting week-
It's barely started and I already feel empty.

The hangover

"You're worth so much more than that" is something that I can say, that I have, that I've told people.
Reverse the roles and I'd want to walk down this path where you find out why, put things to words and understand yourself. Or try to.

But then, I find myself in these situations and I'm just.
I don't know. I don't even know.

I just don't like how it makes me feel in the morning.
And my mirror doesn't know what to say to me.

Sunday, September 11th 2011
2pm

Enough

Okay you know what. This is motherfucking stupid. I'm not even at the fucking party yet. I fucking wanna go home. Now. What the fuck.

too tired for my own good

want you here to cuddle up with.

You.

Woke up this morning and thought, something's missing.

I've been up

Drawing. Looking. Searching.
I hope it makes sense in the morning.
And I hope it's enough

I think it's time to sleep now.

You're magic

How, how is it you know how to fix me before I've started falling apart?

All that's missing now

His name is Wallaby Joe.
I want you to meet him. You'd have liked him.
And he'd have loved you,
With your brown eyes and contagious laughter.

Wallaby Joe has moved homes. And the home he's in is nicer. He's happier where he is now, you can tell.
I want you to meet him.
But you're made up.
And you're not here.

Half three in the afternoon

Sometimes,
I wonder if we get sad because we're already sad but we've been blocking it out.
Or because there's some kind of trigger, something that slights you, so you hang on to a more plausible reason to be sad.
To something that can tell you why you're falling apart from the inside out.

A poem-
It starts off with a number. You begin writing about something, that shapes itself around something else. Your words do that because it knows you better than you, and you could've started writing about cat and dogs and squirrels and rabbits when actually all you wanted to talk about was that snail you passed on the pavement, on your way to the grocers', and how you didn't pick it up even though you always always pick up snails and put them back on the grass. And how, when you walked back the same way you'd found it was already dead. And how it made you stop and stare and not know what to do.
Then.
Then you're done with the poem and you look back and hardly know where it came from, even though, actually, honestly, some part of you does.
And you hate the honesty in it.
But you love the honesty in it.

Who do you like? >:]

This girl I hang out with a lot.

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(:

In your opinion, what makes a girl 'hot'?

Personality. and brains.

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(:

What are your pet peeves?

I can't think, off the top of my head but here's one- finding statements on Formspring that go "pass this on" or "ask your followers". Does that even look like a question?! Sorry I sound so angsty.

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(:

Would you rather be a peanut or a walnut?

A peanut! Then I can hurl myself at people who're allergic to me. More people seem allergic to peanuts as opposed to walnuts.

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(:

What's your favorite saying?

"They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever."

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(:

Feels like home

"I like mornings like this," you say as I shift myself closer.

And I've always been scared, but I want to promise you things.

So many things.

That I'll wake you up for work, and on time.

That I'll sort out the sheets in the morning, because I actually like doing it.

That I'll pick up the juice and yoghurt, when we're running low.

That you can come home to me.

Humph

Here's the problem with having the same shampoo as your girlfriend:
When you're in the shower, and shampooing, it kinda makes turns you into a shmuck.
And, you need to get over the fact that you will not have a kiss waiting for you when you hop outta the show.

This is retarded.
):

Here's a secret for tonight:

I still want you