Yes Please.

So I get this same dream every night. A dream so disturbed and horrific, it’s impossible to imagine.

No one is in the same situation. Nighttime tugging on pillows, and morning uncomfortable springs.

If anyone was to enter my mind at this state, they would run a million miles. So why do I find these thoughts so appealing? My dream features you, I wake up damp and depressed. If you knew, you would be so overly confused, you would want to chuck up and cry for hours.

So I am so sorry, and I promise you will never find out. I’m disgusted in myself. I love it, I love the dreams, I love the thoughts that run though my head when you walk in the room, I love all of it.

So don’t enter my head, enter my heart because that’s still sane.

I get chills up my spine in swimming’s and terrible issues in dirty bathing water.

I want to cry, get it out of my system. Make a move. But I’m crazy and sick. To the home for me.

More than you ever needed to.

I’ve been to the dark in my soul and still found light, managed to find you buried in a deep grave planted by fake loved ones who believe you belong there.

You will get a tomb and bouquet of roses, because I care.

I still get the same thoughts, the same dreams.

My sibling.

x

http://farismthrfkinbadwan.tumblr.com/

Blogging...

Oh yes...

x

THE OBSESSIONS (It's been a while):

Sam Eastgate- Pure SEX

When HE was hot (sorry but I will not use his real name, Cedric Diggory is the hot one in this) :)

Tom Riddle is SEX, But he is like 30 now and less attractive :(

Of course I wasn't going to forget these two, I love them so much :'D

This is...

WEIRD

Click It!

By the way...

I'm in love with StumbleUpon, what a great site :)

x

Poetry again...

Twisted Fixations

Feelings of happiness when were alone,

What will I tell her?

I feel as if I’m committing a crime.

But to mislead my organ, is the worst to do.

Tell me what do I deserve?

I’m in deep and difficult to escape.

Much waiting came out of this,

Were we very passionate?

I care a lot, put people first.

So why not you? We struggle for false hopes.

Something to believe,

I’m too young and I’m fragile.

When I finally expand and break,

I will leave nothing but a mere memory of what was.

But I shall enjoy my path to death, unlike my relation.

But I fear that I’m hurting, so I will choose neither and follow his impressions.

Finally I explode, choose the truth.

I’ll cut you all and drown you like a sponge.

I can’t deal with this much more,

I must confess I am weak and shall choose neither.

But before the end there is hate.

Hate for me, someone so cruel.

I’ll tell the truth right before I neutralize.

So shave your head, and make this much easier.

Put this on, I don’t want to stain your Chanel.

And she’ll put this one on because I don’t want to stain her beautiful face.

Now proceed, you know you will.

Stop telling me what to do, I’m me!

Why are you in my head when you should be here in my heart?

You overtake me, but you’re dead,

How can this be?

Explain why I’m turning into you.

Hands down I fill the tub.

Right to the brim, with little room for a lid.

Okay,

You first, with the blindfold on, no one would know.

My hand clasped her blonde locks,

Tightly, I struggle to push,

Please don’t fight me.

Then there it is, my prize,

My mistake.

Obsession:

Yes Erica Durance, just because I love her.

x

Poetry...

Ellie, You Know...

Ellie, I must tell you.

For someone who is somewhat a slut I feel as if that’s not truly me, that can’t be me. I feel an indescribable feeling. Too early for love, too late for likes. What am I to do? Seems as if everyone I meet wants one thing I admit I do too. But whenever you are to enter a room, I blush and weaken. I feel my body adjusting slowly to your presence and my heart and my stomach flutter.

Tell me what be the truth of my feelings, a cold and lonely home and a warm body and clothing to wrap and dislocate. A preposterous tale to share and a damp stick to stare and be startled.

The feelings mutual, cold and lonely- us both. Let me change and be changed for that I must change for.

Ellie, I must show you.

I’m bland and bleak; I want more that one thing from this situation.

Now may I lay a tender osculation on to ones cast? Because I’m ready, I’m unbounded.

Michael <3

x

GO>>>

HERE...

Here it is....

No, not a poem, but the start of an imaginative story. Written by yours truly, it is about a man (not very right in the head of course) and is set in the Victorian times around the 1850's (not written in old English language though).

I haven't yet completed it, I only started it today...

And there I was standing on logical grass believing in dust mites over my weak, bland body.

I choked and concentrated on my breathing. I live for weak competitors; it’s my home and food.

Starving to death, I reach out for the nearest substitute, oh not this, not this again! I lower my head in sadness. The bleak morning sunshine hit my fair face with all power.

The tans were sickening, oh bleak morning why be so cruel? I’m pallor and feeble and thirsty.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m nice. I need to be loved and digested properly in the right measurements. I feed myself, wait. I’m harbour of lies. I feed you ten, twenty maybe thirty a day.

I walked passed a man today, surely not much older than myself. He asked me how to get to Euston from here. Please don’t ask why I lied and lead him the opposite direction because I just don’t know. I feel very ill and I don’t look my best you know, I believe it to be acceptable for this case at hand.

The truth is I’m not meant to be here. I ran like a barbarian leaping for the kill. I’m dressed in the most comfortable fabrics, the only ones I could find. A yellowing shirt, blackened trousers. It doesn’t matter, I’m here now.

The passers-by stare towards my vacant expressions. They laugh but I don’t care, I am only human. I found this was the perfect time to ask myself questions about what I shall do. Are you now homeless? Yes, where are you going to stay? I haven’t the faintest idea.

I’m very much condemned to be impecunious for years to come.

I’m walking the streets of a harsh London area, on my way to nowhere. I hear the fracas around me, the music around me, a din, repetitious noise.

I take a glass bottle off the hard ground and gazed into it deeply.

:)

Heres the obsession;

Yep, Owen Brinley, you're in our hearts. You musical genius you.

Myspace it.

Facebook it.

Tweet it

x

Been a while..

I haven't posted a blog in quite a while now :/

But anyway heres a poem for the blog :))

Hologram, Lacking Air

I’m wondering why, why the feeling took so long to come.

Am I delusional? Do I mean to move on so fast?

My breath is expressing my thoughts and my actions are speaking to the past.

Are you okay with this? Am I meant to ask?

Have I decided whether this maybe a rebound or an adulation?
Only if I choose the first, I’m foreordained.

Let me choose the second, because I am at the beginning...

Of obsession, this is contemporary.

Granadilla trees are grown but I’m staying the same, as ever.

Right down to the core, I do not understand my new thoughts, like a new concept.

Abusively, people will greet me with little or no respect.

Must you be any different? But it makes me feel special.

Looking at your cast from across the room, with reassurance, I pluck the courage.

Are you making a decision for me? Because I feel as if I’m being controlled by you.

Cautiously I make sure I look charming, attractive. Not much to work on their then.

Killing the tension,

I walk in looking unquestionably fresh. Take a look for you.

No one will talk tonight, just me and you. As crazy as it seems,

Gradually you’re appealing to me more and more.

As I communicate,

I’m looking right after your intense eyes, because,

Right now, I hate to admit, I care for the past additionally.

ANDD....Grammatics- Time Capsules and The Greater Truth, MY FAVOURITE SONG AT THE MOMENT!

ANDD....Heres a new obsession for the blog:

Much Love :) x

Another poem for la Blog...

White/Transgression/Elongated

Would it glide so saliently and kill so elusively?

Would it make fluids boil so histrionically?

As voiceless as an resplendent constellation,

Ripping into a gargantuan cloud.

And spilling the redundant water onto us kids.

A place unto itself, a useless gimcrack.

An astronomical but tedious stretch.

No gusto, no passion.

No heart, no eyes.

Just a barbarian suffering in this world.

With vim, we’ll rush to gold, no rushing.

Avec vim, nous précipiter pour l'argent, se précipiter.

That’s silver.

Että te.

And hears one of my photographs....

New poems, new pictures...

Here is, as usually promised, yet another poem from myself...

Librettos and Chords

I’m slowly shifting,

Like a never ending phantasmagoria.

Lost in the motion picture and

Desperately striving on the chords of colour.

I wish to aşeza my lungs searing, with vital fluid.

I’m apprehending the drums articulating loudly.

What’s with the libretto?

Can anyone else appreciate the ambience of the melody?

God, now I’m full from emptiness.

I’m refreshed and desolate.

Die like failure, waste like smoke coughs.

Like cinematography. A motion picture.

I’m writing on...wait, that’s not right.

Why is my baritone so feeble and muted?

It’s part of the song.

Don’t mess it up, I’m going out of tune

Out of line.

Tell me what to eat, whether it is an intonation or an accusation.

I’m in the theme,

The theme is sheath.

The choral is twenty-four carat genius.

Here is a picture drawn by myself of a beautiful Jack Barnett of These New Puritans:

FOR MORE:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/48224672@N04/

All the best x

Oh dear,

Why?

Why?

Why?

I have just remembered the song 'Please Operator' By Garth Brooks (who I dislike deeply) God knows why. I remember hearing this song about 2 years ago when being an Operator Please fan (some Australian band for nut-cases) searching for some songs by the band and seeing a song called 'Please Operator', I got confused, I thought I'd check it out and its some shit by Garth Brooks who happens to be a great lookalike for some sort of gay cowboy. I'll tag him anyway to remind me of the good old days, but don't check him out :/

P.s. Of course I've never heard the full song just about 10 seconds of the beginning made me (and the dear old sister) laugh hysterically. Thats good enough for me :)

x

Todays language: Russian,

Это на улице холодно, и я тепло в метель, теряется в глубине.

...

Well I haven't written a blog for ages, so yes here we go...

I'm posting another poem from myself.

Blue Tales

The worried expressions were even heard from the next boat across the Mediterranean and dodgy deals were being made.

Tropical telephone calls were made and the light had disappeared from our empty hearts, our empty hearts are filled with frog’s juice and passion. Makes them less empty, I know.

Choking on your memories, choking on your deeds.

F-f-f-f-follow, your lost inklings for jets and

Rays.

Purse the mouth of your face and tighten the suffocation.

Forty metres deep in a heavenly tasting stream of ocean blue.

Lost to my colours of white cigar scent and flavoured disturbances.

Sixty metres deep, closer to death. How far can this stretch?

Before I lose my oxygen and the wind of the

Black and blue faced creatures calling me invitingly.

I squeal and squirm for air holding back my fear.

Goodbye cruel, unforgiving world.

x

One of my Poems...

Front Of The House, Back Of The Van.

Pour quoi faut-il les yeux si déchaînés?

Crossed et malades. L'absence de gagner est inapproprié.

Obviously inappropriate.

Un peu d'air sur terre, hard to breath it all in.

When I believe it, I’ll see it.

Not properly but faintly. As faint as a face can get

Because there’s little air on earth,

And it’s hard to breath.

White in body, gold in mind.

S'il ya quelque chose à faire, je vais le faire.

Si vous avez quelque chose à offrir, je vais le casser.

Comme un airless évent et le traitement rassurant.

Cela n'a aucun sens si je vais changer ma langue pour vous et tous vos numéros.

In a more understandable context,

I’ll have chained up eyes and a new perspective.

Lost to this concept of air and its disappearance.

Drowning in your lack of social skills.

Pardon my French, go to http://translate.reference.com/ if you haven't any French language in your vocabulary.

Hope you like it, whoever is out there.

x

Today.

Well...

I had received my new phone this morning.

Its an excellent phone indeed, a touchscreen one. I wasn't to sure about touch screens but I thought I'd give it a try and what a great trial it was!

I have also unloaded some music on it such as;

Grammatics- the classic 'D.I.L.E.M.M.A' and an interesting one 'New Franchise'.

MGMT- 'Future Reflections' for when I'm in the mood for some summery, walk-around-with-no-shoes-on beach music.

Also;

These New Puritans- 'Hologram' soothing pianos and beautiful beats, 'Numerology' for the old stuff of course and to learn about numbers ;) and last but definitely not least 'White Chords' which has won my heart over fair and square. Its powerful drum beats from our beloved George Barnett and warming deep vocals from the best musician in the history of music (in my opinion) Jack Barnett is so strong that it has hit me like a vicious hurricane, my favorite song of the moment has won the position of Ringtone on my LG Pop. More music shall be uploaded soon.

Anyway enough about my phone and its music.

Tonight its all about the cinema, food and a Harry Potter parodies from myself and my deep-minded sister, Lauren.

I shall be seeing The Wolfman in the odeon tonight at around 8, exciting...

This blog is meant to be about poetry and general disasters so bear with me as I post another blog with one of my poems on it.

x

Latest Obsessions...

Just thought I'd present two of my latest obsessions:

This is a piece of artwork called Sailing The Desert created by Inga Nielsen. I found myself extremely fond of it whilst on the hunt for landscape artwork.

This is a photograph by Minor White called Two Barns and Shadow, in New York 1955.

I like this photograph yet I still haven't worked out why, maybe it's that I feel as if it's swallowed me right into the picture because I can definitely

'taste' the emotion.

?????????????????? doesn't make any sense.

COOKING FTW <3

X

Newbie...

Well,

This is the first time I've ever wrote a blog, it doesn't seem as good as everybody lets on but i'll give it a try, seeing as I write a lot of poetry that might be good enough to share with the world of bloggers.

I am a simple enough 15-16 year old girl. I'm normal minded but my poems are the complete opposite.

I am currently writing a book and...

Well this is a blog so I'm not going to share my whole life unless I honestly have to.