1) I was in the shower today and was suddenly hit by a wave of nostalgia for TKGS 3/4. I remembered Cheryl and Dawn, and how much I loved them. And then I remembered how Amanda, Gladys, Samantha and myself won the inter-class debate championship over whether or not TKGS ought to permit dyed hair.

2) To know that the Lord is good. Do I really believe that?

3) I love how you respond to me, and how that makes me more.

4) Trying is good. So is knowing yourself.

5) I need to clean my room. I like my space, a reflection of my lack of taste and my ease.

And Again!

You talk about life you talk about death
And everything inbetween
Like its nothing
And the words are easy
You talk about me and talk about you
And everything I do
Like it something
That needs repeated
I dont need an alibi or for you to realise
The things we left unsaid
Are only taking space up in our head
Make it my fault win the game
Point the finger place the blame
It does me up and down
It doesnt matter now

The first to wish to count to ten
I hold my breath and wonder when itl happen
Does it really matter
If half of what you said is true
And half of what I didnt do
Could be different would it make it better
If we forget the things we know
Would we have somewhere to go
The only way is down I can see that now

Coz I dont care if I ever talk to you again
This is not about emotion
I dont need a reason
Not to care what you say
Or what happened in the end
This is my interpretaion
And it dont dont make sense

And it don't have to make no sense to you at all,
this is my interpretation

My interpretation ~ Mika

Back and forth, again. It'll spiral away.

I (L) Mika

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life
Can't get no love without sacrifice
If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well
Mmm a little bit of heaven with a little bit of hell

This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, no love, no glory
A happy ending gone forever more
I feel as if I'm wasted
And I'm wasted everyday

This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending
No hope, no love, no glory, no happy ending
This is the way that we love, like its forever
Then live the rest of our life but not together

Meh, just a little bit, happy endings are always in the making. I'm not done with my story yet. For now i'm just trying to finish this blasted paper due on monday, and work on my presentation. Freak out!

I'm hungry. I want the boyfriend.
Meh.

I want to walk forward, and not look back.

Majortom was right. It's all about maximizing utility.

2 a.m.

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe...

Not above all, it was hurt pride and a profound sense of rejection that created the tidal anger that still refuses to be quelled. Not the rejection of myself per se, but of a relationship on my terms. Life has, thus far, been wonderfully biased towards me but in doing so has curiously twisted me into a corner, trapping me by the moutains of riches offered to my whims and fancies.

What was I saying? Well, I assult myself with the past every few days/weeks. Everything that I have fought so hard to shed off is washed up by the tide and drapes over me like seaweed. I guess this is full reminder that I cannot do anything by my strength alone. And that any accomplishment I make without Christ serves to be a fatally weak house built on sand.

What am I saying? Oh I don't really know myself. There are just somedays when the past walks up and sneaks a withered arm around my waist and draws me toward what I have lost and away from what I have gained and grown. That's just it. It's the past. But the Miss Havisham in me has stopped the clocks to that exact moment of betrayal. The sands of what-could-have-been slip through my fingers, my desperate clutch still throbbing. I must move before the sands of my hourglass fail through too.

Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.

And then later, it will fade into silence. I'm too old to belive in ghosts.

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

I'm weak, but I know what is and what must be.
My head might crane backward and my heart might pulse to a forgotten beat, but my toes are pointing forward.

~ Lyrics: Breathe by Anna Nalick.
First heard in Robby's car in Kelowna, on the way to meet Ryan for lunch.

The problem is that I have an insatiable need to express. And I look back at what I have written and am highly dissatisfied with this archaic gibberish that cannot be disguised as something meaningful and to be worth its e-space. It's about Dennis of course and not only has this dead horse been flogged silly, its barely sporting anymore flesh. Gah, I think I'll just blog till I'm so sick of the subject I'll naturally get over him. Meh.

If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

RK3

Back from Kelowna. Dear Robby, thank you for being my friend for the past three years, for letting me into your life as you live and grow. You've taught me a lot about friendship and challenged my silently. From your refusing to let heaven be our next meeting place (although you never fail to put my life in danger each time we meet), to showing me your pictures, movies and music. I have found a home in you.