Origin of Life History and Future in a Nutshell

When lands collide, things die.

When meteors fly, dinos die.

when ashes rise, Ice ages ties.

In the end

In the all,

We come by and by

And they die.

Then we die.

Bye.

Flaunt my Fortune

Nice pictures, but why?

What's so different between you an me?

Are you richer? Buy nicer clothes?

Do you have better taste?

Maybe you look prettier than me.

Or is it because I play sports and get more scarred and bulky?

Perhaps it's simply because you're naturally elegant and femine.

What does that make me?

Where does that put me?

No.

No no no no no no...

Let me straighten this out for you.

I'm not poorer,

I do not have poorer taste in fashion.

I'm as beautiful as you,

and I'm not flawed and or clumsy.

The only difference between you and me?

I don't flaunt my fortune.

I don't wear make-up to cove up.

Jewelry to me is not just to look pretty.

My taste is no better nor worse than yours

And I'm just as beautiful as anyone else out there.

The only reason I look average compared to you?

I don't flaunt my fortune.

Sure, you may wear that T-shirt - 

  once a week.

Maybe to show people you're down to earth and average like us -

  but you're not.

You may joke with us, hang out with all social groups, befriend even the most unpopular kid in town -

  just for appearances

In the end, you're as fake as Paris. Or even __.

You will never be like me.

I see a project coming on...

Nonsense

You couldn't've meant

what you meant when you said

you'd say it again

when again and again you wanted to mend

ammends that you'd broken in end

at the end of the game

in game with a name

you were aiming to gain

somethin' a bit insane 

Like A bit O' Gold.

Like a jacket or coal.

Or just a satchel of mold.

Yes, ma'am. I make no sense.

But what else good is school for?

Plain foil and Nail Splatter

Splatter nails

foil duckling...

foil lizard...

foil lizard butt...

Once Was

Out

admist it all

we see what we want,

and we want what we see.

Eternity with careless love and joy

Forgotten

Oh, the ones out there

They call and call, but to no avail

Once

Once in a very blue moon,

Yet not as blue as you’d think

They are heard

Over on this side

Long

And oh so lost

And overwhelmed

They cal and call

Cries in the night

Whispers in the day

Afraid of themselves

In the open sun

Afraid He’ll hurt

Those

The innocent

They come out,

Slowly

Closely

They want our acceptance

They call and call, but rarely to

The ones they loved so dearly

Until we become them

Apart of them

And we’ll one day call and call

To no avail

Cries in the night

Whispers in the day

Lovers

Lovers

There are only lovers

No true loves or others.

Starcrossed or coincidental or spontaneous

Lovers are lovers.

We will never find true love

It does not exist.

Not now, not ever.

Love is only as love is,

But yet, we make it out to be
A phenomenon beyond scientific explanation

Beyond words

Beyond feeling

Metal

Stinging metals.

Bitter metal.

What does it taste like?

Smells like?

What could you use to describe it?

Nothing. Metal is metal.

It's dull and without emotion.

void of feeling, cold to the touch.

Forboding and unforgiving.

reprimanding of all who abuse it.

So why do we all know

from such a young age,

the taste of metal?

Sad.

Penniless

Remember from my very first blog post I said I'd try to get a penny tiled floor?

       I wasn't kidding. Here's my collection so far!

FOOD!

Screaming Chinese Pancakes

Fruit and Spaghetti Fun!

Beans on Tostitos!

Mummy Finger food!

Brakes

You are the brakes in my car.
Burning and glowing dim in the dark Unders
You toil and wear until one day you break.
You need constant care,
a maintenance thing, they say.
Why do I bother?

Alas, you are the brakes in my car,
the one that cares for me,
enough to pace my thoughts.
You toil away until the day,
you're outdone your share.

I thank you, for you truly are the brakes in my car.

Love's Away on a Holiday

Love's Away on a Holiday

Those days, our memories

The seamless past.

Dancing giddy and gay through the trees.

Flawless in its beauty

Beatless, patternless.

Arbitrary in itself.

Who knows.

What I do know is that this can’t be it.

It can’t all just end here.

We have so much to live for,

If not today, then tomorrow.

My summer's day

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

All hot and gay?

Muggy and sweaty,

Heat strokes and stings of a bee.

Where for art thou?

So radiant like a sun

The one that glares upon us

in the late afternoon, and thus

Forcing us forever indoors
to waste the summer days
rotting away.

Humid air, frizzy hair,

Helpless, the weary child.

Oh, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Suffocatingly dry,

With droughts and floods,

All over the world.
Why oh why

My oh my, what a variety of scenes

To enjoy.

What is it?

It's colorless

As all versatile fluids are

Yet not quite odorless

With its thick scent lingering about

And definitely not tasteless

For those who desire it long for its taste

What is it?

Its cousin is colorless

And so oddly odorless

And most refreshingly tasteless.

What is it?

It has a friend.

It's a dark one, this friend.

She's colorless

Odorless.

And sadly, tasteless.

She's not a fluid relative

But she is a close friend.

What is it?



akdov, retaw, ycatsce

Smell Mel Metal

What does gas smell like?
Metal.
What about paint fumes?
Metal.
Burnt flesh?
Metal.
What's metal smell like?
Nothing.
No?
Nope. It taste like something.
What's it taste like?
Metal.

Ok.

I've been slacking on updates...

So the past few weeks I'd gone from being bored to frantic over summer school, to studying hard, to getting excited and loving life, to hating myself, to being super proud of myself to being complacent and confident. Here's just a few photos to capture my Oh So Not So rare academic emotions...

On top of the WORLD! Ready!

Mischievous and Sneaky!

Alone and Helpless

HUNGRY!!

Nostalgia

Fresh and Confident

Blissful

Weary, Struggling to find the light.

birthdays..

Ever thought about a birthday? Just the concept. We throw parties every year celebrating an individual who was born that same day X number of years ago. But exactly what does this do? Sure you celebrate achievements but can't you celebrate achievements as they come and go so you remember them as you're celebrating?

If you lead a dull average life, with whimsical ups and downs, what achievements exactly are you celebrating? Another year you haven't gone off the deep end? Another year you countdown till your death day? Another year you grow older and have supposedly gathered more potential? I understand if you celebrate birthdays when you're a baby because it's more for the parents than it is for the kid. Parents celebrate each anniversary of them having you in their lives, they're super excited, and they just want an excuse to celebrate and let out their joy. But teens? They celebrate just to have a party and have fun, when really, they shouldn't need a reason just to hang out with friends and a dozen others they don't know. Young adults? I suppose for a 21st B-day when they're legal drinkers, but other than that, it's just partying to party. Adults? They celebrate just because its "what you're supposed to do." Seniors? They celebrate because its another year they haven't dropped dead and its another year they managed to stretch our their fragile life and delayed an imminently grim future.

Praying for a tragedy

She watches,

She waits.

She longs and

She dreams.

Everyday everywhere, fantasies arise

Just out of the blue. Completely irrational yet

Vigilant visions.

Ideas and dreams spun out before her eyes

Crossing a street?

Or will this be the day she becomes that tragic pedestrian
hit by a bus and killed or at the very least permanently damaged?

Going to night class?

Will this be one of those reenacted encounters
on TV
about the average girl
hopelessly mugged? Killed? Raped?

Stuck in traffic.

This must be the part where a plane crash lands before her eyes!

Everyday,

She's just praying for a tragedy.

Something

Anything

To make her feel

Something

Anything

Because right now she just felt pain.

Scorching depression jeering at her.
Senseless suspicions growing against friends and family.

They may be senseless, yet when seen in another light...

She was living in a lifeless shell of a life.

There was potential

Oh sure there was definitely potential

And a future

But what of it? It was all material and fun, but she needed life!

Something to live for.

Something to define her individuality.

She was waiting on a crisis to ensue for her to prove herself worthy

To prove her life worthy.

Slit throat

It was a dark hallway. Some sort of underground room with the piping in the ceiling unconcealed from view and there were work lights illuminating a yellow orange corner or wall here and there. The man. He stood in front of the three of us, knife in his hand. The guy in our group, Stan, is in a ready position, alert for the slightest movement from the man. Stacy, she was in shock and unsure what to do and was waiting of instruction from Stan. I was standing, alert, in my own corner. I was in the dark, but given the dim lighting that lit up most of the space down here, I’d say I wasn’t hidden in the dark. There were pipes to the right of me, a giant one at my head level. I assess the situation, looking for something anything that I could use to defend myself. Some lose pipe? A rod on the floor? Something the man doesn’t notice? Something about the man I could use against him? Anything. But I saw nothing. I wasn’t getting out of this one. The man was in a suit calmly standing and waiting for us. A smile creeps up his baggy old guy face. It reminded me of a mafia king. Or one of those rich dogs who do nothing but order people around while he sits and lounges, packing on the pounds, getting old and more arrogant by the day. He points the knife at us, and I think Stan gives up. He, like me, could not find anything to use against him. The knife itself was threatening us not to do anything brash up close next to him. Not unless you were trained for it, you were a ninja, or you were the main character in a movie and the worst you’ll get is a scrap here and there and you magically and impossibly defeat the villain. But I did not see any of this happening. Not in this lifetime. The man over there probably saw himself as that main character, cornering the villains.

Cornering… This gave me an idea. We weren’t really trapped. There was a door behind us. It was big. Heavy. And it had one of those mechanical door knobs, the ones that aren’t really knobs but bars and could be connected to a computer that could lock. But we had to try. I went for it.

It didn’t budge and I turned to run but saw nowhere. The man, startled from my outburst, headed towards me to stop me and process this thought later. He didn’t hesitate. By the time I’ turned and faced the hall, he was halfway here. What if I did some football tackle/dive and he missed? In the back of my mind, yea, I heard the hopeless snicker of some nameless character. But I needed to try. It was too late to just give up. And shouting out a warning for the other two to make a break for it wouldn’t work. I learned from watching too many movies that this usually ended badly and the villain, the man down here, he’d stab them to slow them first, then come to finish me off. No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t scream. I had to think. I started running towards him, not sure what would happen if I did reach him. Not sure what I planned to do when he got to me and his knife decided to plunge into my flesh. But I couldn’t think about pain right now. A lot worse could happen if I didn’t do something.

I ran. I reached him. He grabbed my arm. I couldn’t duck or move out or tackle him. Plus I’d be too afraid of tackling him when he had a knife anyway. I saw his knife rear back, prepared to stab my gut. The best I could do now was get creative. Gripping his shoulders, I spun him around. I hoped he’d get disoriented, but he was still coordinated enough to know where I’d be. Just he missed my gut and sliced my arm. I was done. I’d never felt pain like this and never imagined what a knife through my flesh would feel like. Now I knew. It stung. Worse than anything. The blood pouring out only helped a little. But just knowing I was losing that much blood, I panicked. I forgot the guy and I focused solely on trying to ease this pain. My arm was tingly now. By instinct, I slapped my hand over the wound and tried to stop the bleeding, but once my fingers felt the gash, I let go. My fingers stung the wound and feeling this gash on my own arm was just too much. I tried to just ignore it, tell myself this wasn’t happening.

Didn’t help. At all.

I didn’t notice my friends, but when I finally remembered they’d been down here, I looked for them. I saw them at the end of the hallway, glancing back at me just before rounding the corner. Good. See I knew I didn’t have to shout for them to run. Atleast I wasn’t hurt in vain. I was a goner. I knew that. I was prepared for the man to just stab my heart slit my throat and be done, but no.

No?

No. He dragged me with an arm around my neck. I used both my hands to try and free myself, but my stabbed arm just didn’t help much. Using my muscled there ached. No, it was more than just an ache. It was horrible. From my struggling I guess I’d bit my lip because I could taste blood.

No, this wasn’t happening. I’d gotten myself into a position that allowed me to not choke on the man’s pressure around my throat and I’d just gotten oriented enough to notice he was headed in the direction my friends had gone. The man was bringing me with him to hunt down my friends. no, I had to do something. I’d already made a break for it, gotten hurt and risked everything. Doing one more thing to at least slow the man or better yet, stop him for a minute couldn’t possibly hurt. Ok, maybe it’ll hurt, but I was going to die that night, why not spend my last few minutes or hours doing something useful? I tossed and turned and against all the protests from my injured arm, I continued. I was only doing this long enough for me to come up with something better. I knew this man was 4 times my size and my struggles wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to continue murder. Then I saw us pass a pip standing on the ground. I didn’t care that it was next to the wall, I knew this was better than all the other stupid pipes that were way up out of my reach. I kicked out my leg and curled my foot, latching on. The man was strong, I’ll give him that. One pull and I’d dislodge from the pipe. But not before he had paused and turned around to see what slowed him down. I looked up at him the best I could. He glanced from my foot to me, and I threw him a smug grin. He thinks he’s the only one winning tonight, well think again. He gruffly turned back and continued. But not towards to door, oh no. He headed toward a utility closet. He opened it and without hesitating, threw me inside. Hurt like hell. I’d landed on my elbows and that hurt like a hell I’d never known before. But now in the silence I took my time to relax a bit. I put my arm down to prop me up as I rested on my side. It wasn’t the wound, but the surface stinging it that caused my arm to jump up and let me fall the rest of the way to the floor. I just laid there. Crying To myself. This was crazy. Seriously. Police reports of murders never seemed this bad. But then again, they always mention murders and crime scenes and write up reports as if it’s so common place, I, and the rest of society, have become immune to the fact that the victims had to live through the murder. They had to feel everything that I’m feeling now. And for some, they felt more. I got up. At least I have a break, whereas some of those victims never had any break from trying to survive. I needed to take advantage of this time.

I knew he was keeping me in here to save some time for himself to hunt down the others. But I couldn’t let that get to me. I had to use that as motivation to do something. Now. Back in school, they’d always say you had to do this or that and that this thing or other was important. Urgent. Well, none of it seems urgent compared to this.

My eyes had adjusted to the dark. Now, I realize it’s not pitch black here. It must be pretty bright out there for the light seeping in to light this room well enough for me to see. And this was an electrical closet, not just a utility closet. Really? Why, god? Seriously? Help me out a little won’t you? But I knew he was probably up with his smug old self just watching me like a movie. I mean, why would he help me if I’d never believed in him in any religious form? I’d always believed something was out there, but I’d never name him any sort of a god.

I brushed that thought aside and focused. I have an electrical closet. Now what? I could tamper with it until the power goes out, but who would that help? And would turning off the power mean the doors will unlock? Or will it just keep the doors permanently locked until it is commanded to open? It was at these times I wished I knew more about the mechanics in life. The how behind everything I saw, touched and used. The why behind every action and event in society. But that was done.

Ok, what else? Bars. I noticed a bar lying on the floor, maybe someone wanted to fix this thing up or…. Damage it like I had just thought of doing. It couldn’t hurt. It really couldn’t. Except when the electricity raced through that iron bar and sends 1000 bolts racing through your system with no way out, screamed something at the back of my head. I couldn’t break out – the guy would hear, and come for me.

Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Save myself while I still can or continue trying to save my friends? At this point I really didn’t care, but I just wanted to be doing something. The door. Did he lock it? Did it have a lock? I didn’t remember hearing a lock click when he left.

I checked the door. It opened. Strange though. The man was there. He’d come back empty handed. But he didn’t waste his time. He knelt down, grabbed me, and whispered in my ear something I couldn’t quiet understand through his grumbling. I only heard rage. Maddness. Obviously madness. I heard him finally spit out the word throat! Fearing the worst I didn't move. I felt the knife cold on my neck. It didn’t waver. I wavered. I was the one trembling. It made no difference. I felt the cut before I could even get scared. I guess I’d already expected it but never believed it. Once the deed was done, the man left. keeping the door ajar. I rushed backwards, scuttling until I could feel the wall at my back. All the while, I kept my head in the same position, taking one of my hands to hold my throat. It got slippery. Sticky. Gross. But I couldn’t let that stop me. I didn't let the cut in my arm stop me, why let this?

It hurt. I didn’t know what to do. I’d gotten into a very VERY precarious position and I knew I wouldn’t live if I moved just a bit. I also knew I wouldn’t be alive much longer if I let my arm and neck bleed out. Tonight was such a rush. My blood was pumping. Fast. My heart – it wouldn’t stop. I laid there unable to move. Unable to scream. Yell. Anything.

I don’t remember ever getting help. Or blacking out. Or dying or anything. I just remember feeling tingly all over. Numbness spreading. But now I just ached, but I could move. Slowly, I twitched my fingers from there place. They felt stiff. Almost like – like when I used to get a cut on my hand or finger and I’d hold it down and after a while – I find out I’d held it too long and too hard and the blood was clotting with my finger and my fingers refused to bend. It felt like it was too simple. Like I’d overreacted. As I waited for my body to wake up, I ran over what happened. I shouldn’t be alive. I couldn’t be alive. Yet here I was. Hesitantly my hand reached back up to my neck. My fingers had found what I’d expected to be there – a long scabbed gash. My good arm reached over to the wounded arm. I was afraid to look. But what I felt gave me a pretty good picture. A thick mat of blood scabbed over my arm. A long ridge protruding amongst this mat. It was unreal. Seeing the early morning sunlight peeking in the two windows down here replace the dozens of dim yellow-orange lights almost washed away any memory I had of last night. This couldn’t be. How could it? Right? I really wanted to curl up in bed, sheltered by the idea that I didn’t need to care about anything beyond the 

ferrero collection

From 2012
1 ghoul
1-2 wine bottle and glass
14-15deer
10 spider
11 pikachu
10 squirrle

From 2013
15 octopus
6.2 dragonfly
9.5 kitty
......

I will have an update on this collection... maybe in a new post

Scarf door knob

Just a scarf and the circle things for scarves and hang it on a door knob -- now you're got a colorful decorated door knob that you can still use efficiently!

Adolescence

The poisons

They seeps through the halls

taking the weak down the dozen

Literally.

Just watch.

I do.

I see them fall prey to it.

Everyday,

They're changing.

It ay not be over night, but

You see it.

I see it.

Boys acting tough,

Girls acting sexy and appealing

Everyone thinking they're so much better than everyone else,

And those who realize they aren't, they fall.

Hard.

Deep into the Abyss of a spiraling confusion.
Transparent intentions, amature motives, completely cliche.

Who am I?

What am I doing? What's right?

You know you should do something.

You see the answer flashing in the back,

trying to find its way out.

But amiss all the jealousy, hatred,

Judgement, desire,

despairing, and vanity.

High School.

Caging in hundreds of arrogant irritant adolescents to spend 7 hours together in.

Humanity at its worst.

Blind innocent hatred in middle school that grows

and devours a child's soul.

Even those in denial soon realise

The embarrassing lives they led.

Reminiscing about earlier nails...

 

baby maybe

Baby maybe ill be safe in your heart

Baby don't you ever take me apart

But I know

I learned

Someday you'll just fly away

But Baby maybe he wont leave me afraid

So I say

I know I was wrong

I know in my heart so long

I knew it from the moment I saw you fading away

Baby maybe it was fun

But you never ever

You never ever gave me a chance

You wanted me perfect

But I can't play my life away

I knew it

I knew it

Baby maybe he wont cry for his way

Baby maybe he'll accommodate today

Baby maybe

Baby maybe he wants to stay

But I know

If it was you

You'd never

Never have it that way

You'd toss it out

Wring me out

Throw it all away

Take me apart and tear me to pieces

Then you'd leave my broken heart

Yesterday.

Food for Fun

I'm full
Why the hell am i eating when I'm full?
I know I'm full
I can feel I'm full.
But yet my mouth is asking for a little bite.
Just one bite.
But I know it's that first bite that's the most faftal
For that's the bite that'll lead me down a very dark path
A path filled with flavors
Color snacks
Munching, Crunching.
I just want it filling my senses.
Drowning me in all it's glory.
Yet one no longer does the trick.
I need more and more and I want it to last longer and longer
So
Bad.
This is my Nicotine.
This is what Obesity starts with.
This is Obsession.

Nighty night

The night was young. Her heart was pounding. There was no reason to be scared...

But she was.

Lani... she heard a voice cry. Lani, help me. Please.

She didn't know the voice. It sounded like a child. She looked around for him, but saw nothing. Heard nothing more. She cuddled closer to the wall next to her bed, trying to blend in. Her blanket rose up and she closed her eyes.

And hour or so passed by and she was starting to doubt she ever heard anything. It was silent and she was drifting off to sleep.

Where is he?? a new voice said in her ear. She froze. This was a shrill mother's voice, though she didn't sound like someone she'd want as her mother. The boy was in trouble, Lani knew, but how could she help? This was a brand new house, and no one should've even had a chance to die in it. Instinctively, she turned her head to make sure nothing was there to make noise. Nothing was there but an empty wall. Girl, you tell me where my boy is.

The voice was starting to change, starting off as the mother and melting into a hushing whisper, but it wasn't getting quieter. In fact, after the words were said, it was just a rumble of indistinct whisper, like an ocean at night, getiting louder and louder.

Lani was done. She couldn't take this. She screamed, but nothing came out. She couldn't think to try speaking and only wanted to scream to make it all go away, but no sound came out. her mouth stretched into a silent scream filled with a terror that matched her eyes.

Now I don't remember what happened to her after that. No one would tell me. But I do visit her every night. She looks familiar, like someone I know well. Maybe I used to be friends with her. And her name has a familiar ring to it. I'm not sure. But I do recognize her clothes from the other night. She was wearing one of my favorite T-shirts and pajama pants. She's changed though. Now she wears a formal dress and is always sleeping. I wish I could talk to her. I want to know what happened that night I saw her screaming. I want to know why she was so familiar.

Now

Run

fast as you can

hard as you can

just run.

You take your heart and soul

your life and maybe

Then you'll see

Why your life is not flying by

It was not meant to be

You can't rush through it all.

Baby steps

One by one

Slow and steady

Then, you'll go miles

Further than you've ever dreamed.

Tedious

Long

boring and so on

But it works.

Trust me

And you'll see

The person you've always

dreamt to be

 

Potter Nails and MORE!!

Mee Stah Froolooloo