yellow socks.

my tears were warm. i don't know why i took so much notice of that. but it was like my heart was pouring out of my face. but really, it wasn't my heart. it was all the hope, all the new beginnings, all my old feelings, the locked up memories, all the things i convinced myself i didn't still have in my head, the box in the back of my mind, i swear it was locked with a hundred locks then it got so crowded i forgot it was there. but then, it came running down my face in a hot flush without warning. my face was melting, and for just a few seconds i came to the conclusion that my mind had finally exploded. i was frightened I'd have to start from scratch, that when i woke there'd be nothing there and my mind would be empty. but that was too much to hope for. because after those few seconds, everything was still there. just messed up, out of order, in a pile on the floor in my brain and more confusing than ever. More confusing, more distressing and yet, why did i feel s

although it's either a little too late or a lot too early to write about christmas, I thought I'd share some work from chrissy 2013 and a cheeky sequel from last summers adventures... pls read >> Twas the night before Christmas when all through our home, Not a noise was heard, not even a phone. The sacks were out on the carpet in the lounge, In hope that in the morning the would be full when they're found! Lachi and I were excited in our beds, While loads of presents ran through our heads. Except how could anyone sleep like this, at all? So we quietly got up and crept down the hall... As we peaked around the hallway edge, We stared, wide eyed, at a fat man in red. Our cookies were gone, and our carrots too! It had to be Santa and his reindeer crew. So we tip toed quickly behind the couch, And peered in a the gifts in this massive pouch. Lachi gave me a mischievous wink, Then guess what he did! What do you think? He spear tackled Santa with a mig

I'm young, I'm crazy and I'm completely and utterly.. stupid! But if my stupidity has taught me one thing, it is that no matter how bad you stuff up, life always has a way of making everything work out in the end. So, stuff up as many times as possible, because that's how you learn. Cry a little, laugh a lot, smile your life away no matter what, and never sacrifice your happiness for anything. Because in the end, what's life if you're not happy, crazy and a little bit stupid?

I can feel my heartbeat through my entire body, if I lay really still and think of you.

Love is such a vastly used, abused, adored, absurd word, That can mean as little or as much as you want, which is the most dangerous thing about it. It breaks hearts, it mends them. It snaps them and bends them. But who are you to reach into my chest and pull it out? It belongs to me! So why do you have it? And why can't I get it back?