Prepare to feast your eyes on a fresh new wardrobe! New set up! Same clothes. New fancies! Very funky! And a tad more of attempted organisation!

I smell a new year!

It won't go away.

I'm sure that if everyday you were pinpricked, your skin would eventually toughen, and your threshold for pain extend til that pinprick became nearly unnoticeable. So if these pangs you unconsciously inflict upon me do not cease, I will become less affected; more tolerant.

Becoming impartial.

I would love to write upbeats of sunshine and fond memories, but the ones we made from a time ago, remind me of you now...and I don't like you now. You're an idiot, and I've never had to try so hard to love you. I want to rip you out of pictures. Give me a chance to hurt you back. I hate what I'm becoming, eat my heart out before it gets cold.

The worst part is that you wouldn't even know you have your teeth sunk into me. I can't walk away, but I want this to go away.

Please.
Please.

Tonight I had a shocking epiphany.
It was that if I could not draw your attention to this matter by correction,
then I would very surely get your attention by being worse than you. Because I know you have a conscience, you have morals, you have values...they just need to be properly woken up, so that lines of black and white are no longer pixelated grey.

And You, sit back aghast at my new waves of darker thought protruding like a bad hair day on more frequent occasions. Yes, the idea is a little messed up, but I do believe it would be effective. Perhaps now, I'm beginning to understand how much what you do frustrates me, simply by reflecting on how low I'm willing to go just so my caution against your potential destruction would have audience.

I hate talking to brick walls, makes me feel my existence is pointless; my presence- replaceable, my fights- uninfluential...

Did I mention, I love you?

Hello and

goodbye.

We dreamed of love;
Of immeasurable potential and passion and glory and fields of green for long and wide!

We never imagined this.
Raw and vulnerable and confused and stubborn. We had not likened Truth to the sting of vinegar on grazed lips. Or Faithfulness to the clutching of dried ice.

But,
Love cannot be made as heroic as is, if not for the triumphs over adversity. For a hero is always born out of opposition, of pain and the determination to fight for the worthy cause. Thus Love is undoubtably brave (Brave, which I once read defined as "Afraid but willing to act on regardless" or something to that tune). So here's to Love. Here's to Truth.

And here's to You,

Dear and Faithful

Let me not forget the Love that keeps me here.

This dance belongs to you.

Why don't we love like we say we do?

Why don't we act, when we've words to prove?

Must muster more...

Her eyes were wide at the sight of them! The walls were lined with varnished wood grain shelves, full with large, crystal cylinders with rubber stoppers. Her lips moved subtly as she murmured, fascinated and overwhelmed by the contents of the cylinders, labelled with ancient tags.
"Hmm, this could be useful!" She spoke cheekily "I think I'll make a concoction of Patience, Enhance Listening Ability and Empathy, invite Sal over for dinner and pour it into her every dish!"
She chuckled in her growing mischief; spoiling her imagination with time to ponder the outcomes she might achieve by spiking the drinks of everybody she considered "challenging".

She walked the aisles, astonished by jade dusts, indigo grains, lilac liquids and the endless colour contained in beautifully crafted crystal capsules. She smirked over the reminders "DO NOT TOUCH". But when she was sure nobody could see her, she'd extend her hand and allow her fingers to explore the perfect cylinders, and every one she touched she thought was unique in it's craftsmanship. When in fact, the crystal cylinders were identical and no different. Therefore, her differing of the identical could only be attributed to her striving imagination. Any other 'ordinary person' would have observed each cylinder as identical and any other 'sensible person' would have observed the demand not to touch. But in her childishness (not to be despised) she found it hard to separate the realities she existed in. For she thought "surely these contents could not have been captured and contained if not within a suitable jar, suited exactly...and, and since all these very, very different contents are very, very different indeed, the jars must vary accordingly!" Ordinary sensibility was not far from her reason either. Though this is beside the point. Skip. Skip. Skip.

Ahh, this is the part.

Now that she had glazed over just about every jar, she went to sought the help of an assistant. Once found, she commented "There are many and so many of these, but I can't find the one I'm looking for. People tell me it's really hard to get." "Sure, I can help you find it. Could you describe it?"

"It's... fierce, uncontrollable, overwhelming, powerful, passionate and insisting." "Oh my, your a little, little for the one I have in mind." "No, I shouldn't be, you mustn't have the right one in mind." "Ok then, go on." "Um, it's... really strong. It's, I dunno, very smart, stra...strategy, strategic! Mm hmmmm. It tries to understand but doesn't care if it doesn't. It's really, really big. It's good at protecting and stuff. Boy, is it big!" "It is starting to sound very big indee.." "IT IS! LIKE WOW!" "This may be a problem. Do you think it's containable?" "Nahh!! It's uncontainable, 'cos I said before it's uncontrollable." "That would explain it then, we won't have it." "But you have EVERYTHING else!" "Yes, but if it's uncontainable, how could we keep it here in jars?" "Get a really BIG jar!" "Well, could it be contained even if the jar was really big?" "Ye...mm...I don't know, how big could they make jars? If it's infinity, uh, infinitely big, yes." "Are you a mystery shopper?" "Nope, what's that?" "Don't worry, but we don't, can't stock the uncontainable or uncontrollable here. You might have to try to get it yourself." "Get it myself?!...Where?" "Hmm, do you know anybody else who has it?" "I know a few people who have some, but they have only little! It takes soooo oooo oooo oooooo looooooonggg to grow! I thought, maybe I could find some here! But..." "But we don't have it. Maybe you could ask for a little bit from everybody you know who has it, then begin you grow your own." She sighed "Well, I suppose so. Thanks for your help!" "No worries, come again and visit sometime!" "I love this place! Of course I will!"

And with that, she left. However, she returned regularly to show her newly acquired shop assistant friend how her "Laufe" grew. And they shared trial and error techniques of how to make it grow more, faster and better. And they lived their lives as joyfully ever after as they knew how.
And...The end.