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his small,little minah(NOT!) 
♥ ZURAIN;zoo-raa-intemasek poly; junior yr. pharmaceutical sci! :D :D SHORT,and happy with it.(: loud. laughs at every single little thing. chocolates,donuts and icecream make her smile like a kuku!:P loves her one,and only ♥ and oh, i am anti-veggies. ty (:
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Saturday, May 19, 2007
It has recently come to my attention of the fragility that I've held within myself.(please not another love letter, ain) but what have I got when my mind is out of ink? (you speak nonsense) and what of my hand? when the wrists starts to cramp; when the fingers start to ache? how do these letters get written to those few that could've been? the crippled, the heartbroken, the sad, the mournful. (could've been what?) oh, do not take me as regretful. because when I tell you that I once loved, I did. (puppy love, you oblivious moron) with what pen(cil) did I write my love story? on what parchment? with what handwriting?and what ink (if there was)? of what meaning all those factors mattered, satisfaction was far from earned. ---- when the ink she writes has deepened to the black that fits his (or her) heart. what am I to do but view? and her handwriting? what happens when each letter she paints curls and twists like her hair? have I any chance by then? (fight, you coward, fight) perhaps when I finally find myself with a friday night lamp, reading a love story, fingers aching, wrists cramping, mind draining, heart breaking. perhaps that is when I realize. adjectives and all. that I could've been. (but you're not)
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