M U S T I E X P L A I N M Y S E L F
I read a lot more than I will write.
I draw a whole lot better than I write.
I hope be able to write a book, publish it and be known for my style.
I must find my style first.
Ever had the moment where you thought you understood everything and you can't possible do no wrong? I did for sure, too bad it never end so well. Like that one time where I knew if I don't help someone, it's the same as being the 'bully'. Really sad, that I not even blinked. I convinced myself, I'm not involve doesn't matter to me. I hate it how I changed so much, not positively not negatively. From the young naive kid full confident to this still young naive full of unsureness.
You can call me, Yce or my real name if you know it. Or make me a nickname like Elmer P. Krawdly. Inu-kaasan, is what my sisters will call me. Blonde, even if I'm not a blonde I wish I had that white shining with flickers of silvers, blonde hair...
My age will disclosed, but I'm old enough to have become an image of a 30 year old hag. Also wish me a glorious "Happy Birthday" sometime around February 28th.
My few goals in life, to finish school without being harm or being beaten with an empty pillow case. To be well known for my talents; drawing. To do a lot in life, exciting or new. Kiss someone famous, in the most... my way that I can.
And to clear up somethings, I'm here to write and read. Maybe make a couple of good friends, go partying all night, take notes on how good writer make such cool and POPPING FRESH ideas. I'm not here to get people hating me and forcing me to do something I really don't wish to do, unless they do a few times then I agree... sigh Yeah I know it happens. Some of my stories will be like, or not. To make people want more, or not. To be able to flow like a river, as if that's gunna be. If that's all to be noticed, enjoy.
5/21/08The day where I can't beileve I was the most cruelest in my life, so far. Thinking about writing a story about my sister and Shawn. And how all the songs I heard that day, made this seem like a movie. I really don't want to explain this in any words. The way I put words is not fit to explain this at all.
6/6/08
This is the 2nd time this year where a personal, not that close but close enough death has happen, where I understand it. How death is so unexpecting... makes me think twice what happen to that teacher when I was in 4th grade. I hate being the most selfish being, I ever known. Why did this casually slip into the conversation? Makes me think what would happen if more deaths will mean more grieving, I hate seeing thoses faces, that really are pained. I have not wanted to cry for so long, I wish I could make them, his friends feel better. But I will hold back, I should be comforting them like I understand the feeling.
I have my art
It's my voice
It's my words
It's how I feel
I can hear other's arts
But if I would lose all
I be broken
Never to be fixed
Til I learn the arts of the broken
There is always something left
In the pieces
No matter how shattered it is
No matter where they are
"Ilivetoletyoushine""Youcanskyrocketawayfromme""Ebbingandflowingandpushedbyabreeze""Ilivetomakeyoufree"
"WhenIturnjetblack,andyoushowoffyourlights~""Leavemyyourstardust""Start~dust~""Ilivetoletyoushine"
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