(no subject)
okay so i found out why cubase didn't work last week. the fucking electric keyboard wasn't fucking plugged into the fuxcking computer *twitches*
in other news, yet again life is all go go go angst angst angst as usual. i wrote a drabble. i should really post it on here. but that means i have to turn my computer back on again and transfer the file and... ah fuck it i'm gonig to get the fucken drabble...
*sound of ellin running from the room*
*sound of ellin running back*
lucky you, you also get another cookie for not amy...ah don't yell at me now, you love it. i really need to finish that chapter though...after homework ellin, after homework...
Oh we’ve been through some shit together haven’t we? And now as those years draw to a close I look back at who we once were. And haven’t we changed? Haven’t we grown and matured? Haven’t our boobs gotten a helluva lot bigger now that we’re practically women? Yes we’ve changed. But looking back now, after five years of being together, when I look back to who we were when we were thirteen, and who we are now, it made me realise that we haven’t really changed have we? Because we’re still us, aren’t we? We’re still us. Still us.
Time seems frozen sometimes. Sound stops, whole situations just freeze. A moment, one out of the infinite moments already passed, and the infinite moments that will pass after it, by itself, alone. Tear stops halfway down pale cheek. Life stops mid-breath. Pencil pauses over paper, considering. And somewhere, someone stands with tears down their face. Wishing that they were anyone else but themselves. My right eye never cries. It’s always the left that begins tearing first. Then the right one starts up, if the tears are strong enough. And sometimes my face will scrunch up in an expression of sheer misery. I hate that feeling. I try to keep my face flat when I cry. It is more becoming. But then who thinks about their face when they cry? Who consciously thinks ‘Oh I’d better not scrunch my face up when I cry or else I’ll look terrible’? Well, I do. I’m pretty crazy sometimes. I get some strange ideas inside this head of mine.
Strange ideas.
Tom seemed to get the message instantly. ‘I didn’t expect you to forgive me straight away,’ he admitted glumly.
‘Who said I was going to forgive you at all?’ not Amy said coldly but almost immediately wished she hadn’t. Tom had already looked upset enough but when she said this he looked utterly miserable.
‘Is there anything I can do to make it up to you Amy?’ he asked petulantly.
He really was overly sensitive about everything, not Amy thought. He was like a child really. A child who had done something naughty and was grovelling for forgiveness.
‘Not that I can think of right now,’ she said coldly. ‘But if I think of anything I’ll be sure to let you know.’
Tom gave her a weak smile and backed out of the room shutting the door gently.
‘Oh wait…’
Tom poked his head back around the doorway.
‘Yes?’
‘Tiny is a stupid name for a dog the size of a small horse.’
Tom blinked then grimaced. ‘Thanks.’
in other news, yet again life is all go go go angst angst angst as usual. i wrote a drabble. i should really post it on here. but that means i have to turn my computer back on again and transfer the file and... ah fuck it i'm gonig to get the fucken drabble...
*sound of ellin running from the room*
*sound of ellin running back*
lucky you, you also get another cookie for not amy...ah don't yell at me now, you love it. i really need to finish that chapter though...after homework ellin, after homework...
Oh we’ve been through some shit together haven’t we? And now as those years draw to a close I look back at who we once were. And haven’t we changed? Haven’t we grown and matured? Haven’t our boobs gotten a helluva lot bigger now that we’re practically women? Yes we’ve changed. But looking back now, after five years of being together, when I look back to who we were when we were thirteen, and who we are now, it made me realise that we haven’t really changed have we? Because we’re still us, aren’t we? We’re still us. Still us.
Time seems frozen sometimes. Sound stops, whole situations just freeze. A moment, one out of the infinite moments already passed, and the infinite moments that will pass after it, by itself, alone. Tear stops halfway down pale cheek. Life stops mid-breath. Pencil pauses over paper, considering. And somewhere, someone stands with tears down their face. Wishing that they were anyone else but themselves. My right eye never cries. It’s always the left that begins tearing first. Then the right one starts up, if the tears are strong enough. And sometimes my face will scrunch up in an expression of sheer misery. I hate that feeling. I try to keep my face flat when I cry. It is more becoming. But then who thinks about their face when they cry? Who consciously thinks ‘Oh I’d better not scrunch my face up when I cry or else I’ll look terrible’? Well, I do. I’m pretty crazy sometimes. I get some strange ideas inside this head of mine.
Strange ideas.
Tom seemed to get the message instantly. ‘I didn’t expect you to forgive me straight away,’ he admitted glumly.
‘Who said I was going to forgive you at all?’ not Amy said coldly but almost immediately wished she hadn’t. Tom had already looked upset enough but when she said this he looked utterly miserable.
‘Is there anything I can do to make it up to you Amy?’ he asked petulantly.
He really was overly sensitive about everything, not Amy thought. He was like a child really. A child who had done something naughty and was grovelling for forgiveness.
‘Not that I can think of right now,’ she said coldly. ‘But if I think of anything I’ll be sure to let you know.’
Tom gave her a weak smile and backed out of the room shutting the door gently.
‘Oh wait…’
Tom poked his head back around the doorway.
‘Yes?’
‘Tiny is a stupid name for a dog the size of a small horse.’
Tom blinked then grimaced. ‘Thanks.’