Found the other boyfriend's poem.
Every person meets that special one
The one with whom they know they'll Always be
You, Becca, Are all i could ever need and more
It's your words, your being it sets me free
Now i may have my problems
Sometimes i may feel it's the end
But when i'm talking you the world is my oyster
Feeling ok, there's no pretence
For you are the one who raises my spirits
Keeps me travelling these stormy seas
Obstacles barring the way forward
Driving me to my knees
I see you
I fly above these barriers
I'm no longer grounded by the weight of the world on my shoulders
I cannot live without your love now i have felt it
Now i'v been part of it
It's all i live for
What i'm trying to say
And though these words don't seem enough
Is that, Becca, i love you
And i always will
'Till death do us part
I may not be angelic
I may not be the guy of anyones dreams
But i try to make you happy
I give you my all, i give you my heart my soul
All that i have and am is yours
'Till death do us part darling
Forever my home is in your arms.
|x| Carl + Becca = Forever |x|
Yeah, that last line was part of the email.
How the FUCK do I meet these people.
June 9, 2008
HAHAHA WHAT
I've finally decided what I'll do with this "blog" thing.
I'll use it to post charming snippets of conversations and text files then link them to other people, so as to avoid filling up IRC with hundreds of lines of useless text.
Here's a poem someone wrote about me, when I dated him over the internet while I was young and stupid and fourteen.
Black as night
Flowing free
From your face
They look at me
I feel the lust is burning me
But your far but near
Living yet dead
Breathing yet not
Here but gone
Those eyes I could let watch my soul
Let them see everything and nothing as the paradox
Feel them tunch me and I shiver
Because black as night
Flowing as free
From your face you look at me
And I know what it means to love
I think we were "together" for about, oh, a month at most. I really can't remember. He wrote this about me, after seeing a single picture. I'd be flattered, if it weren't so utterly stupid. And plus, he was illiterate, so I'm not all that convinced he really did write this himself - especially given his tendency to steal things other people said or did and pass them off as his own.
Here's another he wrote, when I refused to e-date him at first because... well, because I guess for a second I was actually sane.
How do you feel me
Is it with your heart
Is it with your eyes
Is it with your hands
Is it with your mind
Is it with your speech
Or
Is it with your spirit?
You pick because
I feel you with me heart
I see you with my eyes
I want to feel u with my hands
I ‘am with you in mind
I talk to you with my speech
And
I want to feel your spirit with mine
Its up to you Its your pick I wont pick for u because that wouldn’t be the girl I like and love ^_^ its your pick
Those poems don't really illustrate his complete lack of command over the English language, though. So here's one more.
I feel the pull
I feel the sway
I feel your push
I feel your way
I feel my heart
I feel my mind
I feel the pulling oh why does it torment me
I feel the swaying its like beening drunk but sober
I feel you pushing me away for anuther
I feel your way is different from mine
I feel my heart pumping the last of my bleed away
I feel my mind dead and gone my spirit flying free
To not be with you but anuther
To be with you friends and your family
Because your killed them too
And because your killing your self I’ll see you some
With my bleed gone my mind dead I’am nuthen but a actet
That lives on through you so live me well and don’t die young
Because that’s a waste
I don't think he wrote that one about me.
That's all for the moment. I might try to track down another poem a guy I "dated" for six months emailed me one time in a misplaced gesture of romanticism. But then, I don't know if I want to subject the whole internet to... that.
Discuss: How would YOU react if your significant other wrote you a poem making use of Japanese internet smiley faces?
I'll use it to post charming snippets of conversations and text files then link them to other people, so as to avoid filling up IRC with hundreds of lines of useless text.
Here's a poem someone wrote about me, when I dated him over the internet while I was young and stupid and fourteen.
Black as night
Flowing free
From your face
They look at me
I feel the lust is burning me
But your far but near
Living yet dead
Breathing yet not
Here but gone
Those eyes I could let watch my soul
Let them see everything and nothing as the paradox
Feel them tunch me and I shiver
Because black as night
Flowing as free
From your face you look at me
And I know what it means to love
I think we were "together" for about, oh, a month at most. I really can't remember. He wrote this about me, after seeing a single picture. I'd be flattered, if it weren't so utterly stupid. And plus, he was illiterate, so I'm not all that convinced he really did write this himself - especially given his tendency to steal things other people said or did and pass them off as his own.
Here's another he wrote, when I refused to e-date him at first because... well, because I guess for a second I was actually sane.
How do you feel me
Is it with your heart
Is it with your eyes
Is it with your hands
Is it with your mind
Is it with your speech
Or
Is it with your spirit?
You pick because
I feel you with me heart
I see you with my eyes
I want to feel u with my hands
I ‘am with you in mind
I talk to you with my speech
And
I want to feel your spirit with mine
Its up to you Its your pick I wont pick for u because that wouldn’t be the girl I like and love ^_^ its your pick
Those poems don't really illustrate his complete lack of command over the English language, though. So here's one more.
I feel the pull
I feel the sway
I feel your push
I feel your way
I feel my heart
I feel my mind
I feel the pulling oh why does it torment me
I feel the swaying its like beening drunk but sober
I feel you pushing me away for anuther
I feel your way is different from mine
I feel my heart pumping the last of my bleed away
I feel my mind dead and gone my spirit flying free
To not be with you but anuther
To be with you friends and your family
Because your killed them too
And because your killing your self I’ll see you some
With my bleed gone my mind dead I’am nuthen but a actet
That lives on through you so live me well and don’t die young
Because that’s a waste
I don't think he wrote that one about me.
That's all for the moment. I might try to track down another poem a guy I "dated" for six months emailed me one time in a misplaced gesture of romanticism. But then, I don't know if I want to subject the whole internet to... that.
Discuss: How would YOU react if your significant other wrote you a poem making use of Japanese internet smiley faces?
March 21, 2008
At least Anne Frank never had to tour with her book.
A quick note about this whole "blogging" thing:
"Blog" is a horrible, terrible word. Don't use it. Or, if you absolutely must, at least don't stretch it out with an American drawl (blawwwwwwwwwg).
I used to have a journal or three. They have all been deleted or hidden, because they were all a little too personal and it's kinda like airing dirty laundry.
Isn't there something rather voyeuristic about snooping through a thirteen-to-fourteen-year-old's innermost thoughts? On that note, what idiot writes that stuff in a public place anyway? At least I retained a modicum of decency by keeping the really important stuff to myself and not complaining too much. There are many other people who seem to use these public pages as a way to vent (or brag) about how terrible their lives are.
Here's a message to those people: nothing can be hidden online.
If you write about cutting yourself and make the mistake of linking an email to your username, it'll get dug up eventually and used against you. Write about how you use cocaine? You'd better hope your online persona is separate enough from your real life name before going for that job as a primary school teacher. Deleting this stuff isn't foolproof. Anyone who is interested enough will eventually be able to dig up something on you.
Anyway. That's the more serious end of things. To be honest, there's very little chance any prospective employer is going to spend hours Googling you to see what they can find. Most likely, all that will happen is you'll end up embarassing yourself now. None of you seem to realise how stupid it looks when you write diatribes on how X doesn't like you because he's perving on Y and you think L is a slut because she slept with G and H.
These things don't really matter. They don't matter when you're thirteen, and they won't matter when you're thirty. Life really isn't that bad! Go out and enjoy it!
You: Why do you answer all my questions with a question?
Eliza: Why do you say your questions with a question?
"Blog" is a horrible, terrible word. Don't use it. Or, if you absolutely must, at least don't stretch it out with an American drawl (blawwwwwwwwwg).
I used to have a journal or three. They have all been deleted or hidden, because they were all a little too personal and it's kinda like airing dirty laundry.
Isn't there something rather voyeuristic about snooping through a thirteen-to-fourteen-year-old's innermost thoughts? On that note, what idiot writes that stuff in a public place anyway? At least I retained a modicum of decency by keeping the really important stuff to myself and not complaining too much. There are many other people who seem to use these public pages as a way to vent (or brag) about how terrible their lives are.
Here's a message to those people: nothing can be hidden online.
If you write about cutting yourself and make the mistake of linking an email to your username, it'll get dug up eventually and used against you. Write about how you use cocaine? You'd better hope your online persona is separate enough from your real life name before going for that job as a primary school teacher. Deleting this stuff isn't foolproof. Anyone who is interested enough will eventually be able to dig up something on you.
Anyway. That's the more serious end of things. To be honest, there's very little chance any prospective employer is going to spend hours Googling you to see what they can find. Most likely, all that will happen is you'll end up embarassing yourself now. None of you seem to realise how stupid it looks when you write diatribes on how X doesn't like you because he's perving on Y and you think L is a slut because she slept with G and H.
These things don't really matter. They don't matter when you're thirteen, and they won't matter when you're thirty. Life really isn't that bad! Go out and enjoy it!
You: Why do you answer all my questions with a question?
Eliza: Why do you say your questions with a question?
March 17, 2008
The next day, the sun forgets to come up, but you don't mind
Laura are amazing. Download the songs. Watch the videos. Read through the sidebar.
So anyway. I don't really write blogs, now that I'm out of my teenage angsty livejournal phase. But I do like ranting from time to time and posting links to what I deem Important, because it makes me feel like my opinions are valued.
Minutiae:
This is about as much of an introductory post as I wish to bother with.
Bye, kids.
So anyway. I don't really write blogs, now that I'm out of my teenage angsty livejournal phase. But I do like ranting from time to time and posting links to what I deem Important, because it makes me feel like my opinions are valued.
Minutiae:
- I am, for all intents and purposes, female.
- I make art.
- My music taste is rather varied, along with my book taste. I accept recommendations for both.
- I'm studying to be a librarian, though I don't have any particular aptitude or interest in the career besides liking books (and money).
- I'm a part of Project Chanology.
- I troll, and I don't give a damn about your rules #1 and #2.
- If you cannot or will not type properly, you'd better be entertaining enough to compensate for it before you bother starting a conversation with me.
This is about as much of an introductory post as I wish to bother with.
Bye, kids.
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