Saturday, March 31, 2012

one hundred eighty-nine

Mama why did you have to leave?
Life without you is so hard.
Your ex is hurting Adam and Sammy and I can’t do anything about it. Life has been so hard since you left. I miss you…we miss you…I know you’re always with us…but you’re not here to kick his ass like I know you want to.

I love Adam with all my heart even though I used to tell you I didn’t…I think you knew that, even when I didn’t want to love him. I hope you see Adam and see how proud I am of him. I know you weren’t my mother but you were/are like a mama to me.

I love you and will always miss you.

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Thursday, March 29, 2012

one hundred eighty-eight

Hey, how are you?

Here, I miss you. I miss your good morning. I miss you sitting right beside me. I miss you who always played with my teddy keychain during the lesson. I miss the times when I told you that your tie wasn’t tidy enough. I miss the times when we were still sitting side by side even the seats were ruled by the roster. I miss the times when we were singing together in native class. I miss the time when we were practicing those ridiculous things we found from the free magazine. I miss the times we spent together.

I miss your voice calling my name.

I miss your black short hair with a little tiny tail in the backside. I miss your tapering fingers, which were more beautiful than mine. I miss your jokes and our laugh. I miss your smile, even it looked like horse’s. I miss everything in you. I miss you. I really do.

Even I miss you so bad, even I wish to turn back the time, even if I had the ability to turn back the time, I wouldn’t turn it back. Because if it only happen in the past, it would be as pointless as now, I still can’t be with you. So, let me just dream, a sweet dream of us. Goodnight.

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Wednesday, March 28, 2012

one hundred eighty-seven

Dear Stranger,

I’ve been thinking about you so much, I can’t even sleep.
 I’m sure that if only we’d met, known each other, that we could have saved the world, that there wouldn’t be all this horror, this violence.

We didn’t. The world burns on.

I love you.

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Tuesday, March 27, 2012

one hundred eighty-six

If you were here, this would be much better.

It’s not bad at the moment. It’s actually pretty ok.

What I’m doing is reading a load of essays about realism and drinking a can of Mexican beer and eating carrots dipped in hummus, whilst wrapped in a blanket and listening to miscellaneous jazz records… but if you were here, it would be much better.

If you were here, I guess there would be a lot to talk about. There would be a lot to catch up on.
Partly, it would be weird. I would want to know why you were suddenly here and why you weren’t over there anymore and if everything was ok and what the hell is happening? Why didn’t you call first? etc.
But I would hope that you would have reasonable answers to those questions and we could move on fairly swiftly. I would really hope that you had brought some wine or maybe some cider or something, just a little bit. I would also like it if you brought snacks.

If you were here, we would become casual within 10-15 minutes. I would be awkward for the first part, because I’d be taken off guard and not expecting it. But if you were here, and it was real and not a dream or an illusion or a weird trick of the light (imagine that, it’s funny), it would be better than this is already, right now.

I think that what would be ideal would be if we could change the record. I really feel like listening to Nirvana. What do you think? Recently I’ve been having these strange urges to listen to Nirvana. It was as though one day recently, something in my brain ‘clicked’ and I felt like I was approximately ten years younger and would enjoy listening to Nirvana in a very sincere and appreciative way.

It would be better if you were here because you are my friend.
You are my friend because I know that you love me and I know that I love you.

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Monday, March 26, 2012

one hundred eighty-five

I hate when I get like this.

When I sit here and start to miss you so much. How all our memories come back and I feel like you are with me again. Then I open my eyes and realize you’re not and you’re never coming back. And then I want to talk to you even though I have been trying so hard not too.

I cave in and become weak when I was starting to become strong.
Why do I do this? Because I love you. Only you and no matter what I do to try to stop I can’t. No matter how bad times got or how many fights we got into I never gave up on you but you gave up on me.

Why am I still holding on to something that’s not real anymore?

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Sunday, March 25, 2012

one hundred eighty-four

Happy birthday baby girl!
I hope you have an amazing day.

You are the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for and are an incredible person. You’re amazing, kind, sweet, loving, caring, selfless, super smart and hilarious. You are my favorite person in the world and I cannot imagine myself with anyone but you.

Just texting you brightens my day.
To hear your voice makes my heart jump.
When you tell me you love me, my heart races and skips a beat.
I get butterflies because of you.

I hope you have a day that will match your amazingness.

I love you Lauren.
You’re my everything, wifey.

<3 Vince

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Saturday, March 24, 2012

one hundred eighty-three

To Bryan,

I have incredibly wonderful news that I would like to share with you. But I can’t. The incredibility and wonder of my news is seriously hindered by the fact that you might never know it. But it has still made me smile, and for a small moment, it took my attention away from the loss of you. In my eyes this is a wee triumph, but in my heart it only grows a foreign brand of sorrow.


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Friday, March 23, 2012

one hundred eighty-two

Dear boy-who-loves-long-epics,

It’s been quite a while. It feels like I’ve been to all ends of the world and back in the past few days. And yesterday, everything changed. It’s these moments, these small, insignificant moments that pass us by every second that change everything.

It was the moment when you saw me in that white dress. It was the moment before you kissed me. It was the moment when you fell asleep on my lap. It was the moment when you asked me not to leave. It was the moment when we fell in love all over again.

I honestly don’t understand how love works. One second we’re screaming and yelling and fighting and we spend the next second in a beautiful silence, tangled up in each other. Maybe I don’t know how love works. But I do know I never want to lose you.

Marry me someday?



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Sunday, March 18, 2012

one hundred eighty-one

I know I’m picky as fuck and can’t make up my mind.

But I just want to be sure that its something that lasts. I’ve done that in the past by falling too quickly. Its quite easy to find something that will last a few weeks or so but to find someone that will put up with my moods, quirks and weird habits would be a heaven sent. I’m complicated but who isn’t.

So I’m saying:
  • please be nerdy, I need someone to cosplay with and understand my Doctor Who, Firefly and anime references
  • be a nightowl cause I have a problem with falling asleep
  • understand my weird and irrational fear of death and the things I can’t control yet they still bother me
  • give me attention, hugs, kisses and just hold me, cause as much as I pretend that I’m strong and don’t need anyone. I’m just putting up a front so I won’t get hurt. I really want you to break down the walls I’ve built around my heart.


Saturday, March 17, 2012

one hundred eighty

Tuesday 6th of March 2012

Dear Alex,

I miss you, it’s been 1 year, 7 months and 25 days since you died. and even longer since I have seen you. Life is hard without you, I loved you so much and I still do. I hope you never forget that. I am dedicating this blog to you, so I can write to you.

I know your spirit still lives, even if it is only though the people around me.
You were taken so suddenly and I don’t really know how to deal with it. Apparently the grieving process takes about three years on average, this sounds stupid to me.

How can anyone put a number on it?
Some days are good, some days are bad, but everyday I am aware of how fragile life is and how easily it is to lose it.

I miss Josh too. I hope you boys are having a ball together, sinking lot’s of beer I’m guessing…
Anyway. I love you. I always will.

Missing you always


Friday, March 16, 2012

one hundred seventy-nine

A letter from John Keats to Fanny Brawne.
I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder’d at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr’d for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you.

My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.”

I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you.

Yours for ever,

John Keats

Thursday, March 15, 2012

one hundred seventy-eight

A letter from Jack London to Anna Strunsky.

Dear Anna:

Did I say that the human might be filed in categories?
Well, and if I did, let me qualify — not all humans. You elude me. I cannot place you, cannot grasp you. I may boast that of nine out of ten, under given circumstances, I can forecast their action; that of nine out of ten, by their word or action, I may feel the pulse of their hearts. But of the tenth I despair. It is beyond me. You are that tenth.

Were ever two souls, with dumb lips, more incongruously matched! We may feel in common — surely, we ofttimes do — and when we do not feel in common, yet do we understand; and yet we have no common tongue. Spoken words do not come to us. We are unintelligible. God must laugh at the mummery.

The one gleam of sanity through it all is that we are both large temperamentally, large enough to often understand. True, we often understand but in vague glimmering ways, by dim perceptions, like ghosts, which, while we doubt, haunt us with their truth. And still, I, for one, dare not believe; for you are that tenth which I may not forecast.

Am I unintelligible now?
I do not know. I imagine so.
I cannot find the common tongue.

Large temperamentally — that is it. It is the one thing that brings us at all in touch. We have, flashed through us, you and I, each a bit of universal, and so we draw together. And yet we are so different.
I smile at you when you grow enthusiastic? It is a forgivable smile — nay, almost an envious smile. I have lived twenty-five years of repression. I learned not to be enthusiastic. It is a hard lesson to forget. I begin to forget, but it is so little.

At the best, before I die, I cannot hope to forget all or most. I can exult, now that I am learning, in little things, in other things; but of my things, and secret things doubly mine, I cannot, I cannot. Do I make myself intelligible? Do you hear my voice? I fear not. There are poseurs. I am the most successful of them all.

Oakland, April 3, 1901

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Wednesday, March 14, 2012

one hundred seventy-seven

I'm sorry I hurt you...
The things we do in the past are never really justified.
And the worst is always ignored.
But I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened between us.

I’m sorry I hurt you. Tore you apart.
It probably sounds like the same shit and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I do want your ear. I won’t try to excuse myself except to say I was wrong in the way I dealt with you.

And I hope your regrets are less than mine...


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

one hundred seventy-six


I think about you all the time. Sometimes I want nothing more than for you to show up at my door; I’d grab you by the front of your shirt and pull you in for a kiss. I miss… everything. I miss the way you smell, the roughness of your greedy hands, the way you fuss with your hair, your slightly crooked incisor. I still remember the way my heart swelled when I saw you smile for the first time. I would get that same feeling when I wrote you poems, when I drew forth contented sighs from you, when you glowed in my presence. Your happiness was always mine.

It still is. You’ve hurt me so much, but I still desperately wish for your happiness. I hope you turn around and ditch law and pursue your passion in writing. I hope you manage to get your own place again and find a girl that you love coming home to. I hope she will know how to touch you, that she remembers to always keep Inca Kola in the pantry, that she can make you smile even more broadly than I could.

I’m seeing someone else and he’s everything you’re not. He’s lazy and a selfish lover. He makes me laugh and forget about you though, and I know that I will never feel a shred of love for him. He thinks I’m timid and withdrawn. He probably thinks I’m a little boring, but that’s okay with me. He says I should embrace stoicism, that I was so broken up about you because I didn’t realize that nothing is truly mine.

I never asked for you to be mine; I knew I held no possession over you. I only asked to be yours.

Oh well,



Monday, March 12, 2012

one hundred seventy-five

Dear Pineapple,
I love you. You always know how to make me feel better when I am down. And now I’m am going to proceed to eat you because I would take you over chocolate any day.
(Although you and Chocolate do make a very nice couple).

Love, Emily :)

In other news I’m kind of bummed that I didn’t run today, I definitely could have used it. But oh well, tomorrow is a new day. :)


Sunday, March 11, 2012

one hundred seventy-four

I used to like him but not as much as I like you now.

Maybe 6 years from now you’ll come back and tell me you like me too like what he did.

And maybe 6 years from now I still like you but not as much as I like someone else.

Or maybe not.

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Saturday, March 10, 2012

one hundred seventy-three

Hey, my love, you came to me like wine comes to the mouth grown tired of water all the time, you quench my heart. 

And love, you quench my mind. Your love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.

True love travels, the miles, upon the wings of angels. 
Love finds you, I swear it’s true, and I will love you forever.

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Friday, March 9, 2012

one hundred seventy-two

I am writing you this letter that you should never read. I am writing it on the back of the postcards of you, sent from places in my mind.

I don’t smile for you or cry for you and I’ll find myself dead and gone the day before I live for you; but, you know, my pride is a dirty little liar: sniveling and quick to temper and clever enough to have me burden it willingly. Insidious, isn’t it? And terribly embarrassing, but, I assure you, acting as though I don’t…, will never…, have never…, every day is blush-worthy enough without letting it down to walk beside me. The pride I carry is a backbreaking shred, but it’s mine. 

I do not need to tell you any of this, and you do not need to know.

I am not a stupid girl, but I am. I wonder what it’s like, like the rest of them, I suppose. I wonder how you’d fight and how you’d fuck and I wonder how my skin would crawl if I knew either. I wonder how my fingers would itch if I were given any chance to know you, how your hate makes you glow, or how your love makes you sick. I feel like a pervert. Dirty. Simple. I am not a stupid girl, but-oh-god-I am, and you are beautiful. How beautiful are you?  

I will not bother you, at least, not enough to bother you.  I will watch dull movies and listen to awful songs and ask you to smile for me, on occasion. You will forget and I will say, in serious jest, you are lucky I love you, boy (and you are). And I will smile because you have already become distracted. It doesn’t matter, in the scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that I get tired of it. It doesn’t matter. Not really. You ought to be grateful; grateful in the I-for-one-sure-as-Hell-am sense.

I am tearing every letter I wrote before. I am tearing the postcards sent from behind the closed doors in my mind. I am letting them burn.


Thursday, March 8, 2012

one hundred seventy-one

Dear Future Girl,

I know I’m not perfect but I will be the best boyfriend you could imagine.

I have my fair share of battle scars and problems but don’t we all? We all have a past which shapes us into the people we are today. I’m going to accept you for who you are and love you more then anything in the world. I don’t care if you open up to me right away or if I have to wait, I will learn as much as I can about you. I will know you as a person inside and out so I can be able to read your body language.

I promise to always communicate with you and tell you how I’m feeling. I have had many let downs in my life but with you I feel like I can tell anything and I want you to be able to feel the same way. I will support you through whatever life throws at you and never judge you for your decisions. We all make mistakes in life and I’ll be there by your side holding your hand through it all.

Each day with you I’ll just fall deeper in love with you because each day I learn something new about you. I’ll remember your favorite foods so I can cook them for you. I’ll remember your favorite flowers so I can surprise you with them. I’ll remember the important dates and special occasions so I can always have something cute made up to show you how much I care about you.

I hope you don’t mind random love texts and notes from time to time. I just want you to know how much you mean to me. There shouldn’t be a day that goes by that you don’t feel loved and appreciated. You deserve to know how wonderful and beautiful you truly are. When you are sick I’ll make you soup, lay with you, and rub your back. I don’t care if you stubborn and think you might get me sick because I’m just as stubborn if not more so I won’t leave your side.

We can make music together, drink tea, and cuddle up with a good movie if you like. I’m willing to be there for you always and forever. I want to be there through your worst to prove to you that I deserve you at your best. No matter what happens I will love you for who you are and cherish each day that I have with you.

Remember that you are beautiful inside and out, and I hope one day you will be mine.


Hopeless Romantic

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Monday, March 5, 2012

one hundred sevety

Always and forever, I will love you.

You weren’t a fling for me; you changed my life.
You’re engagement rocked my world, and I will never be the same.

I remember sitting in the living room with my parents.
We told them together: "No, we aren't kidding. We aren't dating for fun. We are serious. This will last."

And even though it hasn't lasted as we thought it would, it will definitely last through the ages. We have declared it so by making a new life together.

Our love will be infinite because of him.
I will always love you - it is a commitment that will never die.


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