leparismidst-blog

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Time does not heal wound, it just soften the scar and forget the pain.

Antonia’s Line

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Hi can you promote my acct ? Pls just a little help. Thanks (: ♡

CHECK HER BLOG OUT ^ 😉

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Tell her that your love for her will last until the last rose wilts, but when you gave her the bouquet make sure that one of them is fake.

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Ever been confused with the current world we're living in? Like there's a streetchild stopped in front of you with open hands and you blankly stared at those hanging little twigs wondering if you'll be pity for him or smart enough and just ignore?

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I'M SO DEPRESSED RIGHT NOW THAT I'M WRITING A REAL HEAP OF WORDS (i have done three rants now)

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What I feel everytime. EVERY SINGLE TIME

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Tick tock tick tock I woke up through my alarm. But unfortunately, it’s the third snooze already meaning I am going to be late for school since I only have 30 minutes to prepare left.

Brrroooooooom brrooooom Now I’m waiting for a ride. It’s rush hour already so I’m guessing I’ll be waiting for my turn for atleast 20 minutes more since I’m like what, the fifth person in this line- starting from the last.

Tok tok tok tok tok I’m running as fast as a horse!! Hoping I’ll be there real soon but hey whatever, I’m 10 minutes late for my class.

Wsssss Wwssssss Wwwsss Whisper whatever you want, say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore. My heart was rebuilt by a hard cold stone, it does not hurt me anymore. All your bullying and judging- well, they’re still crashing my stone-heart little by little.

Raaaaaarrr wwwwwrraaarr raaaawrrr Okay it’s my fault that it’s traffic in Edsa (big time) that’s why I was late to arrive home. Are you happy now? Now please I’ve had enough of my day, you don’t know a single thing I've gone through. So just please please please, shut up and let me rest for a little while. Or at least a little more. And maybe more… until forever.

People, in this generation, everyday of your life is a battle. You’re lucky enough if it is not. ~

/What’s for the future?

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If you want to reach your destination, let your feet start walking. If you want guidance and forgiveness, don’t forget to have your knees kneeling. If you want to learn diverse things, you should have your brain working. If you want to assimilate knowledge, you should lend your ears. If you want to see true beauty, open up your eyes clearly not imprecisely.

Ladies and gentlemen, for every objective we want to achieve we clearly need to get ourselves moving first- not depending on someone else’s right away.

Your future is in your hands, not theirs.

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stale cinnamon roll, been in this world too long, too cynical

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Yesterday’s food destination. We went to a place where it’s yellow and it’s a cab. Yup! It’s Yellowcab! It’s my first time dining in here since every time we would like to eat pizza we are always at home so it’s mostly deliveries. (And maybe because we’re a lazy fat donut too?) Haha. So we came here for dinner－is it even crazy to say that we didn’t really intentionally wanted to dine in there － after a long roam around the mall and buying stuffs for me that I actually needed; not wanted. I’m with my mom, my brother and his friend. We ordered a 12" New York’s Finest, Hot Chicken Wings and 2 orders of Chicken Alfredo Pasta. I can’t believe that it’s too much for us but it is since the pasta itself are a biggie already. That’s why the three of us- except mom- also had a take home food. In fact, we wouldn’t take home a lot if I get to eat everything; I only had ¼ of 1 slice of pizza, 1/8 of pasta and none of the chicken wings. Why? Because of these hateful braces that keeps on hurting me. Ugh, you know it’s really hard to have braces when you love to eat food every minute. Lol. Anyway, as long as we packed everything we went home and the one who ate my take home food is not me either; it was my team mate.

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We’ll survive, you and I.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, More Than Just A House (via katharrinchen)

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I know for myself that I’ve hurt many people, many times. Maybe in my actions, words or even feelings. I’ve hurt them, too much. Too much that they’re drowning in fear of loving and trusting again. Too much that they’re having that shivery, teeth-gritting thrill inside of them. Too much that their hearts were filled with anger. Too much that their hearts turned to stone. All the miseries and heartaches I caused them are all imprinted on their brain. And I know I can never unseal everything with a sorry.

Some people wishes for me to be dead. Some people seeks way to give me acrimonious revenge. And some people just wish I’ll get hit with karma. Well, okay. I’ll bravely face them all. I’ll take it and accept it completely. Also, I won’t seek for revenge if you did so. But I swear to you, I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. As long as you’re happy enough that you’ve finally found a relief in your heart.

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My Love Letter to Nobody

We were just a goddamn phrase.

We were not a subject and a predicate. We did not have the subject-verb agreement like all the other sentences. We were either both a confused subject, or both a lengthy predicate. And that was the thing: we never made sense. We didn’t have to know that from the people around us, we both knew it: we were doomed from the start. But we still continued, didn’t we? We still existed.

People could never figure us out. Never. What is it about the subject? Where’s the direct object? Who is this description referring to? We would laugh about their monotone way of reading whenever they tried to read us. It didn’t have the usual upscale tone from the questions or the panicked faces that came with exclamations. Or even just the mere certainty of sentences ending in dots. We didn’t care. Let them read if they wanted to read, we said.

“It’s a phrase, stop trying to figure it out, it’s just that, a phrase does not mean anything,” they would dismiss us. We were a phrase, we were not a complete thought. People told us that all the time that it has become a solid humming to our dazed ears.

But that was the thing. The humming finally reached my ears close enough for me to make out the words.

We co-existed, and your words danced with mine and we were together. But we didn’t mean anything. And the funny thing is, we didn’t have the need to mean anything. YOU didn’t have the need to MAKE it mean something, or well, anything. Because we were a phrase right? And this was all just a phase? Phrases didn’t have any meaning. You took that in stride.

I wanted FOR us to have something TO us. I wanted us to mean something. I wanted it to be complete, I wanted us to be in the way I type these words right now: certain, vowed, inked, permanent. With a dot.

The thing with sentences is they’re a done deal. And no matter how much I wanted us to be together for certain, we were only a goddamn phrase:

other people you me other people

We didn’t have dots in us, and that was the problem. Other people could be added on both ends. We were a goddamn extended line. And I wanted us to be a segment. I wanted boundaries. I wanted to be a sentence with you.

That never happened. That may still happen. Who knows?

It could mean we will never get our story, or it could just mean that our story is just taking a longer time to be written, or maybe this was all there was to the story. I can imagine the tv reports: a person, 16, starts a fire in another human being but I am afraid to say that they cannot be together or they could become a natural calamity for all the others around them. Maybe, the story stops here. I do not know when the beginning started, or if this is the end, all I do know is that everyday with you has been my climax. There is no rising or falling action to you, you keep me on my toes, you are my rollercoaster on your own. Maybe we aren’t even supposed to be a story, just a prelude. Maybe all we were supposed to be was a phrase.

Just a goddamn phrase.

But you know what? I am terribly lucky to be even in the same line as you, so really, it has been a pleasure being a phrase with you, even if people couldn’t figure us out, even if they couldn’t understand. All we really needed was the comfort that even without the usual capitalizations or norms, even if we were just a phrase, we could stand on our own without anything or anybody else.

We were just a goddamn phrase. We didn’t make sense, but we didn’t have to, to fall in love.