It's too much.

Less Than Three

Twelve. Do you have any pets?

Two rabbits, Nimbus and Gucci (Gucci was named after the rapper, not the brand). They're adorable, fat and lazy and they absolutely hate my guts for man handling them when I have to.

Also about like 10 fish. Unamed. At least 5 of them we've had since they were eggs.

In the past I've had a white mouse (died), blue budgie called Skylar (died) and a guinea pig called pork chops ("ran away" when we left it with a friend when we went to China on a holiday)

When I grow up, I intend to have a puppy and/or a kitten. =]. An owl, tiger or wolf would also suffice.

Eleven. Future names of your children.

Girl Names:
Nevaeh
Savannah
Kayley

Boy Names:
Micah
Wyatt

This is one of the things I look forward to the most in December

Magic.

"Is all this real? Or is it just happening inside my head?"

"Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry.

Why should that mean, that it's not real?"

My heart pretty much burst when I saw this:

(BUFFY REFERENCE)
http://thebuffster.tumblr.com/post/14065996963/camtucker-six-favourite-moments-buffy

"What is it about people who would rather drown than ask for a life 
preserver?"


"If you were the one drowning, would you tell him?"



I look down. "That's different."


His smile makes his eyes crinkle around the corners. "It always is." 

Ten. What’s your sign?

Virgo baby! Even after they changed the dates of star signs... which I'll never willingly understand, sorta like how they de-planetised Pluto.

Nine. First career you wanted as a child.

Librarian. When everyone wanted to be a vet, teacher, firefighter, a car, I wanted to live with books and words.

I stayed up for the moon

Eight. Where are you from?

There are many way I can answer this. I'll try a few things out

• Born in Sydney, Australia
• Heritage is Chinese
• In love I was created and in love I wish to die

Today was a good day.

I live for days like these.

Nothing amazing happened. It was normal. School then home then movie. But it's simple things like lunch times during school, the updates when I get home and spending time with my friends at the movies. It was all so great.

Breaking Dawn is surprisingly good. Probably the best out of the four. I had low expectations and mocked it more than anything else. But it was good. It stayed true to the book (90% at least). And had some pretty intense scenes. The awkwardness just increased the awesomeness. Me and my friends turned out to be those annoying people who laugh and comment during inappropriate scenes. But hey, there were other people who laughed with us so it's all good.

Yeah. Good day.

Seven. How many siblings do you have?

Two older sisters. Sam is 5 years older and Chelle is 7 years older.

It's more of a hate than love relationship. But that's normal.

Six. Top three places to visit.

This continuously changes every 5 seconds. My latest list however is:

1. Sweden: Reindeer, snow, Alex Skarsgard
2. Antarctica: Before it melts and we all die. Also, penguins.
3. Italy: Food, history and art. 

I will watch this once, everyday until it comes out.

On another note though, watching Breaking Dawn on Thursday. Not afraid to admit that I'm pretty freaking geed for 2 hours of pure awkwardness. It's just one of those movies that no matter how bad or stupid it is, you have to see it.

Five. Silver or gold?

Ask me a year ago and I would have said silver. But now I'm partial to both. If I had to choose....gahh I don't know. lol

Kill me now.

What the fuck am I doing wrong?

Four. Do you have any fears?

lol where to start:
Fear of inadequacy, loss, horror movies, failure, hurt, hurting someone, abandonment, being a catalyst for bad things, becoming someone I'll hate, the future, myself, others.

You know, the usual.

Ernest Hemingway - For Whom The Bell Tolls

"Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today."

Three. Zebra or leopard print?

Hrmmm at first I though leopard print of course. But then I thought about zebras. They're pretty damn cool.  It's like a kindergartener went crazy when painting a horse.

I actually have no idea. I guess I'd go for leopard.

Two. What are you passionate about?

• Giving respect where it's deserved
• Common sense and courtesy
• Fair judgement
• Other people's passions and how they show it.

IF YOUR LIFE WERE A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

So, here’s how it works:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)

2. Put it on shuffle

3. Press play

4. For every question, type the song that’s playing

5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool.

Opening Credits: The Mixed Tape - Jack's Mannequin

Waking Up: Better Together - Jack Johnson

First Day At School: Aliens Exist - blink 182

Making Your New Best Friend: The Real Thing - The Years Gone By

Falling In Love: Be With You - Akon

Breaking Up: Take This To Heart - Mayday Parade

Prom: Tell Me Why - Taylor Swift

Graduation: I Feel Everything - Idina Menzel

Death of a Close Friend: Hello - Evanescence

Life’s Okay: Pictures of You - The Last Goodnight

Mental Breakdown: If You Wanted A Song Written About You All You Had To Do Was Ask - Mayday Parade

Driving:  Future In You - Ne-Yo

Flashback: Wake Up Call - Relient K

Getting Back Together: I Don't Need A Man - Pussycat Dolls (==)

Wedding Scene: Into Dust - Mazzy Star

Car Accident: I'm My Enemy - The Years Gone By

Final Battle: Erased - Chris Brown ft. Andre Merritt

Death Scene: Rooftop - Jay Chou&Wen Lan

Funeral Song: Dare You To Move - Switchfoot

End Credits: When I Grow Up - Mayday Parade (cover)

Deleted Scenes: Tik Tok - K$sha

So day one is pretty lame so I'll probably go on a long random, irrelevant tangent

do this. 

One. What is your middle name?

I don't have one. I have a Chinese-ish middle name I guess. Which is Jing-Ting. lol. But mainly I tell people I don't have a middle name. It makes me feel special. Sort of.

I'm feeling quite lame right now. I've been on tumblr all day just looking at random posts and gifs about Buffy. I've been squealing all day.

The only productive thing I've done is clean my rabbit cage for the first time in probably a week or more. I'm a terrible person. I think my rabbits know this. They hide behind their litter box just to get away from me. But then again, they sleep in the litter box in which hey hardly ever litter their little round poops in. I have no idea where I'm going with this.

It's just been a while since I just wrote. Wrote down a meaningless stream of consciousness. It's nice. I think.

A pathetic attempt to get myself to post at least once a day

do this. 

One. What is your middle name? 

Two. What are you passionate about? 

Three. Zebra or leopard print? 

Four. Do you have any fears? 

Five. Silver or gold? 

Six. Top three places to visit. 

Seven. How many siblings do you have? 

Eight. Where are you from? 

Nine. First career you wanted as a child. 

Ten. What’s your sign? 

Eleven. Future names of your children. 

Twelve. Do you have any pets? 

Thirteen. What are you listening to right now? 

Fourteen. Do you believe in fate/destiny? 

Fifteen. What are your career goals? 

Sixteen. What is your favorite color? 

Seventeen. What is your favorite flower? 

Eighteen. What was the first concert/show you attended? 

Nineteen. Something you are working on right now. 

Twenty. Have you ever had a near-death experience? 

Twenty-one. Are you a procrastinator or do you get things done early? 

Twenty-two. Left or right handed? 

Twenty-three. TV Shows you watch regularly. 

Twenty-four. Where do you work? 

Twenty-five. Halloween costume idea for this year? 

Twenty-six. What is your relationship status? 

Twenty-seven. Last movie you just watched. 

Twenty-eight. Your best friend’s name. 

Twenty-nine. A song that’s been stuck in your head. 

Thirty. A book you want to read/have recently read.

You know what’s sad about reading books? It’s that you fall in love with the characters. They grow on you. And as you read, you start to feel what they feel - all of them - you become them. And when you’re done, you’re never the same. Sure you’re still you, you look the same, talk in the same manner, but something in you has changed. Something in the way you think, the way you choose, sometimes, even the things you say may differ. But it all comes down to the state you go to after a nice novel. The after-feeling. It’s amazing, but somehow, you feel left alone by that world you were once in. It’s overwhelming. But it makes you sad. Cause for once you were this, this otherworldly being in… Neverwhere, and then you suddenly have to say goodbye after a few weeks from when you read the last page. When you’ve recovered from that state. It’s just… quite sad.

We need to sort our shit out.

On a song download spree

Now if only I can find my iPod (and keys). NEVER FEAR, it's only misplaced somewhere at home.

David Urbanke.

I've featured some of his photography on my blog before. When I first saw his images like...2 or 3 years ago, I thought we was 25 the minimum. I love his pictures. There are no words to describe the admiration I had for him.

And then I realised he's my age. He's 17, a professional photographer, working for a well known magazine and with some of the most elite models and agencies in the world. He posted pictures on his blogspot of him in his NEW APARTMENT IN NEW YORK. He's 17 and he's got a new apartment in New York. I swear on my life I repeated the last sentence at lease 5 times in a row. I just....

Yeah. People are amazing. Admiration went through the roof.

Here's his:
Flickr
Blogger
Tumblr

Feel free to let your jaw drop.

There is something seriously wrong with this family

Yeah...I cried. Shutup

http://leandrocopperfield.blogspot.com/

Year 11/12 Limbo

So far so good. I really don't have much to say but I'm looking at my number count at how many blog posts I've done so far in the year compared to 2010 and 2009. My head hung in shame for a full 10 seconds. Not really.

But yeah, everytime I try to get myself motivated for year 12, "Make a Man Out of You" from Mulan runs through my head. Yeah geez I really don't have much to say.

How many secrets do you have and carry? 

Why are they secrets? 

Why can no one else know?

Who are you afraid will find out?

What kinds of secrets are they?

What would happen if they weren't secrets anymore?

I find that I tend to try to escape in other peoples words so that my own don't drown me

about 40-65% 

of the time 

it works

But I tend to read things 

that only support 

the craziness that

is my mind

Whether it be poetry, fiction, lyrics or nonsense.

http://mols.tumblr.com/

She captures the 

emotion

that every teenager feels

like the poet she is

"Basking in the infinite sorrow of the over-analytical mind."

Augustana - Reasons

The socially awkward one.

In order to ease Emily's thoughts, I shall now underline the things that apply to me on a (very) regular basis.

- You check your phone because you have nothing to contribute to the conversation.

- Wait for the right time to say something, you get interrupted. Twice.
- Someone you vaguely know is walking in front of you. You maintain distance.
- Hold the door for some. They're slightly too far away
- Someone comes online, you say "hey", they go offline.
- You go in for a high-five. Other person isn't looking.
- Accidently look someone in the eye. Pretend to look past them.
- You say something stupid. You play it down, but everyone sees your face going red.
- You say "hi" to someone. It comes out as a whisper.
- Your friends formed a circle while you were gone. You can't fit and end up standing slightly askew.
- Waiting by yourself for friends. Pretend you're texting.
- You tell a hilarious joke. Nobody laughs.
- You're in class and you want to cough. Some other person just coughed, now you have to wait.
- Walk into the restrooms and stalls are full; pretend you only came here to wash your hands then leave.
- The person in front is walking slightly slower than you are. You walk at an uncomfortable speed to get past them

I've got nothing to say

I wanted to blog something without sounding whiny or retarded. Even if I tried writing something whiny or retarded, I really can't think of anything to say. It's like it is beyond words about how I'm feeling and thinking. Take that any way you want to.

You are now reading the blog of the shittiest friend ever.

Interesting isn't it?

i find this neverendingly adorable for some reason.....

"I'm as surprised as you are that he's taken this long. That boy looks like he could throw a party every time you smile at him"

Laser skirmish and karaoke. I feel like Barney Stinson. Twas legendary.

Pictures Betches

 Want this shirt..

 NEED THIS CUP

That father-daughter smile in the second one makes me smile every time.

Late night post due to slight insomnia

Read, listen, watch, feel, do, surround yourself with things that makes your heart happy. I don't know why such a simple concept can be lost to us to easily, so readily. Happiness scares us more than anything in the world. It's not just the fact that is can be taken away as quickly as it came and a million times harder to get back. It's because we're afraid of where it comes from, whether we deserve it. It's such a huge emotion that we don't know how to handle. So sometimes, we jump at the sight of anger, tension, unhappiness just so that we don't have that responsibility, the responsibility to keep it going, to take care of it. Because if we stuff up, then the feeling that it was your own fault that you lost that happiness kills you.

The thing about happiness is that it makes us feel like we're invincible, on top of the world and free. But even when we lost it, we have to remember that no one's invincible, just cataclysmically human; we're not on top of the world all them time, but the world keeps spinning no matter what; freedom however is always there, alongside happiness. We just have to find ways to reach it and surround ourselves with it.

Sarah Michelle Gellar

Gellar said she was born Jewish but she doesn't believe in any organized religion now.

Gellar has said in interviews that she collects rare editions of classic children's literature.

Gellar has four tattoos. She has a symbol for integrity on her lower back; a heart, a dagger and a cherry blossom on her ankle and two dragonflies on her back.

Gellar has revealed that she suffers from a phobia of being buried alive. She has said "I really fear graveyards and I have a big phobia of being buried alive. It was really hard being an ass-kicking vampire slayer when you are afraid of graves."

Gellar is a taekwondo black belt.

Seriously, the woman is perfect...

Imageryy

Lets just cut the bullshit

and come to terms with one thing:

No matter what, there is always a tomorrow, the world keeps turning and life goes on.

Bad attempt at writing a "short" story, Word Count:893

I love creative writing. I haven't done it in a while though. Matt had to do one for an exam or something and he was throwing ideas around. One of them was this:

"Teenage girl who wakes up in hospital with schizophrenia and sees a man who tells her not to trust the doctors etc. There’s a boy across the room who is always asleep. Describe the image of the parents surrounding the boy, visitng him etc. In the end, the boy wakes up but the teenage girl fades away as she is a hallucination."

I told him to do it but he didn't know how to approach it. So I took a shot and here was my result (no judgement please =]):

“They’re coming Sarah”


“He’ll smother you”


“Don’t trust him”


“Don’t trust him”


Greens eyes snap open as a frail girl of no more than 15 jerks up right, panting. She clenches her eyes again and press her hands to her ears. The voices woke her up again. 


Taking a few more deep breaths, she suddenly becomes aware of another presence in the room. Turning her head towards the usually vacant bed next to her, she’s surprised to find a huddled shape under the covers. He was back.


It felt like a lifetime since he was last admitted to San Diego’s Institution where the freaks and psychos of society resided. She’s never seen the colours of his eyes, heard the sound of his voice, seen him awake. Every time he was admitted, it was in her room and he was always asleep.


Sarah scratched her tangled brown hair in curiosity. She’s about to hop out of bed to try to wake the boy until she heard footsteps come down the hallway outside, getting closer and closer to her door.


“Hide Sarah”


“They’re going to get you”


“Take you away forever and make you disappear”


Fear suffocated her and she quickly laid back under her covers, facing away from her door, pretending that sleep had taken her.


“....but doctor, what other choices are there?” A woman’s voice, quiet but desperate.


“Is he going to be ok?” A calming tenor voice of a man who was filled with concern.


“I’m afraid I can’t say anymore until the results come back.” A voice that alerted something within Sarah’s mind like a fire alarm. It was him, the one that the voices said were going to make her disappear as if she was nothing. “I’ll leave you two some time with him. Visiting hours end at 6.” 


The sounds of breathing and quiet weeping filled the room. Sarah shifted and turned in her scratchy, sterile sheets towards the boy. She froze as my bed creaked and echoed through the room. The couple didn’t take their eyes off the boy, they didn’t show any acknowledgment of her existence in that room. She relaxed and studied the couple. They were obviously the boys parents, showing motherly concern and fatherly care. The boy had his father’s face, sharp and strong but he had his mothers sun kissed hair. It made Sarah wonder whether he had her stormy blue eyes too.


They stayed until visiting hours were up. Not once did they look Sarah’s way, too worried about their son’s wellbeing.


Time passed when at last Sarah had the urge to talk to the unconscious  boy. She told him how lucky he was to have parents, that she didn’t have parents or at least, she didn’t think she did. She told him to be careful, not to trust the “doctor”, not to take the doctor’s poison. It would only make him worse, it would only make his nightmares come to life, it would only make people disappear. The boy’s only response was his steady breathing.


Days passed, then weeks, then months. Every day his parents would visit him, ignoring Sarah completely. They must have been so wrapped up in their grief about their son’s condition that they couldn’t see anything but him. After they left, Sarah would talk to him about her fears, talk about her voices, to her voices and about the evil doctor.


Sarah suddenly awakened one day. Something was different. She sees Thomas’, she learnt his name through his parents’ visits, mother tying up the shades. Something was different. His mother was...happy. His father was pacing, as usual, but something was different about him too. Instead of pacing in worry, there was a slight bounce in his step and a smile on his face that Sarah had never seen before. Another entered the room. Him. Thomas’ mother rushed to him.


“Are you sure it works doctor?” She was practically breathless with excitement.


A twisted grin marred the villain’s face, “I assure you that the effect is almost instant” His hands busy themselves with a syringe full of a blue liquid. A cold pit of dread filled her stomach.


“Don’t let them do it Sarah”


“You’ll disappear”


“You’ll lose Thomas”


“Forever”


“Forever”


Sarah was frozen in her bed and witnessed her fate as the wretched man injected Thomas with the poison that would take him away with her. She instantly felt weak, defeated. Sarah clenched her eyes in agony until she heard a foreign noise she never thought she’d hear. A groan. From a boy of 13. Sarah’s confused eyes jerked up and saw him move, struggling to rise. His mother rushed to his side and helped him sit up.


Why did the man save Thomas? Wasn’t he going to take him away from her? Sarah felt so strange and looked through her hands. Her fading hands. Her fading body. Realization dawned on Sarah as she looked to Thomas. Their eyes clashed.


There was only one thought that went through Sarah as her body flickered. ‘His eyes are blue’. Thomas had a grateful smile, looking straight at Sarah.


“Thomas? What are you looking at” His mother looked at the blank space that Thomas was looking at, afraid he relapsed.


“Nothing, mum, I just thought I saw an old friend.” His smile stayed as Sarah disappeared from his mind. Forever.

New (Im?)possible Dream Job

I want to create a place for people like me. I figured out this term that I set myself up for failure with the subjects I chose to do for my HSC. Which, as you know from my last massive rant, I find is completely unfair of the education system.

I want to create place that doesn't shun or judge what kinds of subjects you do, nurtures your passions and helps and teaches. It's got the same kind of motto as the school in the movie 'Accepted':
"What do YOU want to learn?"

I'd ask people what they wanted to learn and tell them to write it up on a public display so that others can sign up for it. It can be anything from the usual to the different: Maths, English, Science, History, Skateboarding, Culinary Arts, Art, Music, How to pick up girls/guys, How to make friends, Body painting.

There'd be actual teachers or supporters or guides or whatever, but it also relies on students teaching other students. Exams and assignments are optional but projects of some sort are mandatory.

Basically, it's not a school per say where you attend it every day for  6 hours or something. It's just a place that's always there for after school, weekends and stuff to help and support you in the fields that you would like be a part of one day or to help you get on through life. Because we always ask that question in classes: "How is this going to help me in the real world?"

I don't know, that's (one of) my stupid dream I guess.

If what I post makes you upset, should it make me upset? Should I edit everything I say in case my thoughts offend or disagree? I sometimes don't know why I even bother writing here anymore. Useless.

I can't

not anymore. Killing myself over so many things.

http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/2011/08/moments.html

"I fell in love with the kind of guy my parents warned me against. He didn’t come from a good family and he spent every minute of the day working for every penny he could get, he used to apologise that he couldn’t buy me diamonds or pretty things or a big house to call our own, but it was only when i met him i realised the best things in life really are free. i realised relationships aren’t about the gifts your given, it’s the moments on the country drives when you tell yourself if they ignore your directions once more you will beat them to death with the A-Z, it’s when in furniture shops and they spend hours measuring bookcases when all you want to do is look at sofas, it’s when they forget to record your TV programmes but suggest now you can watch the match together, its being questioned about all your past relationships and threatening to go back to them, it’s not making the reservations at the restaurant so you end up with fish and chips instead. But it’s when they admit your directions were the right ones, when they let you ramble on about cushions and fabrics and designs without complaining, when they spend the match doing funny commentaries and explaining the rules every time you ask without getting frustrated, its arguing about exes but being glad they’re your exes and he’s your future, it’s eating the fish and chips while you tell each other about your childhood and fears and ambitions and thoughts, it’s also when they know exactly how you like your cups of tea, and when they understand when to hold you during the sad parts of your favourite films. And it’s that moment when you have a stupid argument about putting the red socks in the washing machine with the white shirts and you threaten to leave, but then you look round at this little nest and world you’ve created together and you see the bookcase where his Stephen King’s are nestled in-between your Bronte’s, and the DVDs stacked along the wall with your DVDs hidden in his cases that would take days to sort out, it’s the two Xbox controllers plugged in from when you last teamed up to take on his friends, it’s the sofa where you each have your ‘side’ his with the TV remote and yours with the cushions, it’s seeing the photo album which has pictures of both your pasts and presents – where your childhoods are next to each other protected by a plastic sheet, it’s his clothing lying about that you’ve slowly adopted as your own, it’s realising that not just your belongings but your worlds have become connected, you’re so much a part of each other that you could leave because it’s be leaving part of your heart behind too. So you shut the door and walk back towards him, and he says he’ll put the kettle on and makes 2 cups of tea, one weak with 2 sugars and one strong with none – exactly as you’ve always been. 

So you could have all the diamonds in the world but without the laughter and the moments of madness and the knowledge that they love you it’s not worth a penny. You’re a beautiful beautiful person and you deserve to feel loved. "


I think I'm in love this entry alone.

I haven't done a rant in a while, but recent events and fate coincidences have left me no choice.

I am so mad at this education system. Before you judge and say "Oh no another whiny teenage girl who isn't doing so great at school" well I'll admit it, I'm not doing that great and I am being whiny. But seriously. This isn't just about me.

I frustrates me to no end the hierarchy of the education system. All around the world education has the same priorities:
Maths and sciences and languages (chemistry, english, physics etc)
Humanities (Business, history, law etc.)
The Arts (Music, dance etc.)
So apparently, our intellect and genius is based and valued on what we're specifically good at. So if you're amazing at art and only average at maths, the maths student has a greater chance of getting a good enough score to be accepted in universities and colleges rather then the art student.

I may be biased as an art student but I know that I'm not the only arts or humanitarian student whose scores are dragging their future down just because the subject we're doing is simply not considered as important as the maths, sciences and languages.

People are talented at different things. People love different things. Why are we judged on such a harsh basis? I'm doing art, society and culture, music, ancient history, modern history, advanced english and studies of religion. That is 2 arts subjects, 4 humanitarian subjects and english is my only "advanced" subject that will (kind of) guarantee me some high rank. Words cannot describe the dread I have for my HSC because I know that my mark, ATAR and rank will be dragged down significantly because I am doing these subjects.

This discourages people to doing subjects of the arts. This discourages creativity. It's like comparing apples and oranges and then proceeding to throw them at the students whose ATAR isn't high enough for uni. I understand that we need to encourage people to become like engineers and doctors in our world but we need artists and musicians just as much.

From the top of your head, in about 5 minutes or so, compare a list of famous mathematicians and scientists known throughout history to the famous artists and musicians.

Albert Einstein
Galileo
Tesla
Isaac Newton
Thomas Edison
and probably 3 or 4 more

Leonardo Da Vinci

Raphael

Michelangelo

Donatello 

(yes I just named TMNT)

Vincent Van Gogh

Picasso

Andy Warhol

Beethoven

Mozart

Tchaikovsky

 and probably 3 or 4 more

That was my list. So, why is art and music not as valued as science and math? The arts have obviously impacted on society and history just as much as the sciences. So wtf?

A man told a story in a video, which I shall link later.

There was a little girl in the 1930s and she was always fidgeting, distracting people in class and couldn't concentrate on work. The school wrote to her mother and said she was incapable of learning (ADHD wasn't "invented" back then). Her mother took her to the doctors and described the symptoms. He told the girl that he and her mother had to talk privately. So he and her mother walked out the room but he turned the radio on first. He told her mother to just watch her after they left the room. The little girl immediately got off her feet and started dancing around. He told her mother that she was not an idiot but she was a dancer. Her mother entered her into a dance school. The little girl later became a ballerina, excelled at a prestigious dance college, choreographed for the musical "Cats" and "The Phantom of the Opera", opened her own dancing company and is now a multi dollar billionaire.

These days, they'd diagnose the child with ADHD or just give the children some medication and tell them to settle down

It boggles me how things could have turned out if the doctor said there was something seriously wrong with her brain. How history would have changed. How lucky it was that the doctor valued the arts himself and was able to see the talent in the little girl who turned out to be a woman who created history.

We should at least categorise and/or find a better and more fair way to mark, score and judge the work of students, especially in the HSC. 

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." 

— Albert Einstein (Yeah, you read right....EINSTEIN)

http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html

I cried

I cried when my sister was telling me the story of this
I bawled watching this
I teared up explaining this to my friends
I let a few tears drop in class while watching it again.
No words can express how this makes me feel

I reckon the person I will be in 5-10 years will hate the person I am now. If I met me, I'd probably punch myself in the face. Just saying.

It's a secret no one tells;

One day it's heaven, one day it's hell.

It's no fairy tale;

Take it from me,

That's the way it's supposed to be.

The sky was perfect today.

Photo interval of random images that have no relation to each other, whose purpose is to make my blog look non-repetitive and semi-hispter/indie. Cause, you know, I can.