Quotes_5

HELLO, BOYS AND SQUIRRELS!! :) 


WELCOME TO ANOTHER QUOTE ATTACK!! 


THEME: Dreams...


A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
Oscar Wilde

A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.
John Barrymore

All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together.
Jack Kerouac

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.
T. E. Lawrence

All men of action are dreamers.
James Huneker

All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible.
William Faulkner

All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.
Walt Disney

All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams.
Elias Canetti

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
Edgar Allan Poe

Dream and give yourself permission to envision a You that you choose to be.
Joy Page

Dream in a pragmatic way.
Aldous Huxley

Dream manfully and nobly, and thy dreams shall be prophets.
Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Dreaming men are haunted men.
Stephen Vincent Benet

Dreaming of a tomorrow, which tomorrow, will be as distant then as 'tis today.
Lope de Vega

Dreaming or awake, we perceive only events that have meaning to us.
Jane Roberts

Dreams are necessary to life.
Anais Nin

Dreams are the touchstones of our character.
Henry David Thoreau

Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.
Edgar Cayce

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Alfred Lord Tennyson


Dreams have only one owner at a time. That's why dreamers are lonely.
Erma Bombeck


Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.
Anais Nin


Dreams will get you nowhere, a good kick in the pants will take you a long way.
Baltasar Gracian


Each man should frame life so that at some future hour fact and his dreaming meet.
Victor Hugo


Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.
Harriet Tubman


Everybody's a dreamer.
John Lithgow


God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Great dreams of great dreamers are always transcended.
Abdul Kalam


He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot.
Douglas Adams


I am a dreamer. Seriously, I'm living on another planet.
Eva Green


I am accustomed to sleep and in my dreams to imagine the same things that lunatics imagine when awake.
Rene Descartes


I challenge you to be dreamers; I challenge you to be doers and let us make the greatest place in the world even better.
Brian Schweitzer


I close my eyes, then I drift away, into the magic night I softly say. A silent prayer, like dreamers do, then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you.
Roy Orbison


I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
Zhuangzi


I don't use drugs, my dreams are frightening enough.
M. C. Escher


I have always been amazed at the way an ordinary observer lends so much more credence and attaches so much more importance to waking events than to those occurring in dreams... Man... is above all the plaything of his memory.
Andre Breton


I stand for freedom of expression, doing what you believe in, and going after your dreams.
Madonna Ciccone


I tell people I'm too stupid to know what's impossible. I have ridiculously large dreams, and half the time they come true.
Debi Thomas


I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.
Bill Watterson


I was always a dreamer, in childhood especially. People thought I was a little strange.
Charley Pride

I'm a dreamer. I have to dream and reach for the stars, and if I miss a star then I grab a handful of clouds.
Mike Tyson

I've always said that one night, I'm going to find myself in some field somewhere, I'm standing on grass, and it's raining, and I'm with the person I love, and I know I'm at the very point I've been dreaming of getting to.
Drew Barrymore

Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together.
Eugene Ionesco

If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours.
Henry David Thoreau

If you take responsibility for yourself you will develop a hunger to accomplish your dreams.
Les Brown

In dreams begins responsibility.
William Butler Yeats

It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.
Erma Bombeck

Judge of your natural character by what you do in your dreams.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth.
Jean-Paul Sartre

Living in dreams of yesterday, we find ourselves still dreaming of impossible future conquests.
Charles Lindbergh

Man is a genius when he is dreaming.
Akira Kurosawa

Married or unmarried, young or old, poet or worker, you are still a dreamer, and will one time know, and feel, that your life is but a dream.
Donald G. Mitchell

My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest pleasure when free.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths.
Joseph Campbell

No one should negotiate their dreams. Dreams must be free to fly high. No government, no legislature, has a right to limit your dreams. You should never agree to surrender your dreams.
Jesse Jackson

Oh, I was never a businessman. I was a visionary, a dreamer.
Jim Bakker

One of the most adventurous things left us is to go to bed. For no one can lay a hand on our dreams.
E. V. Lucas

Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.
Terry Pratchett

Only the dreamer shall understand realities, though in truth his dreaming must be not out of proportion to his waking.
Margaret Fuller

Only things the dreamers make live on. They are the eternal conquerors.
Herbert Kaufman

People are so busy dreaming the American Dream, fantasizing about what they could be or have a right to be, that they're all asleep at the switch. Consequently we are living in the Age of Human Error.
Florence King


People need dreams, there's as much nourishment in 'em as food.
Dorothy Gilman


Perhaps life is just that... a dream and a fear.
Joseph Conrad


Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.
Tupac Shakur


So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.
Christopher Reeve


Sometimes, the only realists are the dreamers.
Paul Wellstone


Strivers achieve what dreamers believe.
Usher Raymond


Take everything easy and quit dreaming and brooding and you will be well guarded from a thousand evils.
Amy Lowell


That's what keeps me going: dreaming, inventing, then hoping and dreaming some more in order to keep dreaming.
Joseph Barbera


The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up.
Paul Valery


The dreamer can know no truth, not even about his dream, except by awaking out of it.
George Santayana


The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Eleanor Roosevelt


The most pitiful among men is he who turns his dreams into silver and gold.
Khalil Gibran


The world needs dreamers and the world needs doers. But above all, the world needs dreamers who do.
Sarah Ban Breathnach


The world of men is dreaming, it has gone mad in its sleep, and a snake is strangling it, but it can't wake up.
David Herbert Lawrence


There are those who look at things the way they are, and ask why... I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?
Robert Kennedy


This is the city of dreamers and time and again it's the place where the greatest dream of all, the American dream, has been tested and has triumphed.
Michael Bloomberg


Those who have compared our life to a dream were right... we were sleeping wake, and waking sleep.
Michel de Montaigne


To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.
Anatole France


Was it only by dreaming or writing that I could find out what I thought?
Joan Didion



We all dream; we do not understand our dreams, yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake.
Erich Fromm

We all have dreams. But in order to make dreams come into reality, it takes an awful lot of determination, dedication, self-discipline, and effort.
Jesse Owens

We all keep dreaming, and luckily, dreams come true.
Katie Holmes

We are near waking when we dream we are dreaming.
Novalis

We should never discourage young people from dreaming dreams.
Lenny Wilkens

Whatever you do, never stop dreaming.
Darren L. Johnson

When you cease to dream you cease to live.
Malcolm Forbes

Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.
Carl Jung

Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.
Gloria Steinem

Writers write. Dreamers talk about it.
Jerry B. Jenkins

Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream.
Khalil Gibran

You can plant a dream.
Anne Campbell

You have to dream before your dreams can come true.
Abdul Kalam

You know, Willie Wonka said it best: we are the makers of dreams, the dreamers of dreams.
Herb Brooks

Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children.
George Bernard Shaw

Playing with fire

This post might be a bit long but I’m classy like that.

Creative writing challenge: Triumph.

Perspective: A player. I know I hate them but I want to challenge myself to be something I loathe.

“So that’s her, huh?” I cocked my head at the new girl.

“You bet, bro,” Kyle waggled his eyebrows. “Prettiest gal in town now. But the best part is she doesn’t know you at all. Her friends might but I’m sure you’re irresistible!” He swiped his tongue around his lips as if eyeing a good meal. Had he forgotten who was the predator here? I didn’t say a word as I thought of a suitable answer.

“What?” Kyle sneered in disbelief. “The best player in the whole state turning down that girl? Tut, tut. I’m disappointed.”   

I elbowed him in the ribs and shot him my “sexiest” look that was narrowing my eyes playfully and flashing him my smile that was SURE to make the air crackle with electricity because of my charm. He rolled his eyes, grunted in acknowledgment and gestured like a butler towards her.

I examined her as I strolled towards her table in the cafeteria, mostly occupied by her new friends but one seat was still left. The one on her right hand side.

She had thin light brown hair, held in place by a simple black hairband, that formed a neat, straight, glossy waterfall down her back. Her cheekbones were unnaturally high and her cheeks had a healthy splash of freckles. She had a single dimple on her left cheek; I made a mental note to compliment on that afterwards. Girls loved that. They did actual swoonage when I said it. How pathetic! But her most attractive part was her eyes but to me they were just another pair of pupils. They were emerald green that reminded me of a Persian cat’s flashing in the dark. They were watchful yet distracted. She didn’t have flashy accessories and her clothes were rather plain, without bright colors or distinctive patterns. I concluded she was a smart girl that hid from others.

This piece of meat should be easy to swallow. WAY too easy.

I checked myself now.

Damp hair that seemed to be tousled in the right way? Check. Honestly, I don’t get how girls love that! All I do is dunk my head under the tap for two seconds then shake it like a dog.

Thick, dark eyebrows with “smoldering eyes looking up from long eyelashes”? Check. Girls don’t seem to notice they actually do fall in love with my eye features. I thought they loved Twilight?!

First two buttons undone? Check. Girls go crazy when they see my abs. I’ve always wanted to say, “Try so save some time from shopping or whatnot and go jogging, work out, whatever! Then you’ll have the same abs as I do. Simple as that.

Splash of Le Player’s cologne? Check. Again, I don’t get what is it with girls and boy’s smell! I, personally, hate putting on cologne. It’s like putting on woman’s perfume on a dude! Yuck!

“Hello…” I almost trailed off as I forgot the most important rule of The Round Table Of Players.

Then my eyes darted to a notebook on her lap. On the cover was a neatly written name “Property of Katrina Stanton”

“Katrina,” I finished suavely.  

“Hi, um… H-h-how did you know my name?” her voice trembled a bit as she said the words. Shy girl. 

“I always make a point to know the names of…Beautiful women,” I leaned in a little bit and breathed some of my cologne on her, which made her gasp and smile dreamily. I sat down on the empty chair on her right and asked, “You don’t mind, right?”

“Oh, um, no. I guess but my friend Kate might be sitting there but I think, um, it’s okay with her,” she stuttered as her eyes darted all over the place. Then I began to flirt.

“So…” I started, pausing dramatically and gazing at her intently. “You’re new here, right…” As I talked in my honey-coated voice, I could feel disgusted looks from other chicks. Glaring at me with their thickly eye lined stares and their French manicured nails balling up into a fist but they didn’t say a word. I thanked my lucky stars for that.

Then the extremely old fashioned, straight out of the textbook trick, “I know a great smoothie place just around the corner, Groovy Smoothies. Are you free to come with me to pick up one?”

“Oh, I know that place. I g-g-guess I can go,” she stammered. I flashed her one of my knock-‘em-dead grins, showing my sparkling teeth and left as the pre-bell rang through the school, leaving her gaping at me like an angel just descended in front of her and asked her to hang out. But, of course, that very angel was a devil in disguise.

“I’m telling you! That Nathan guy is a player!” Jenny hissed at Katrina after school in the hallway.

“He looks okay,” Katrina replied uncertainly.

“Looks,” Jenny emphasized. “He. Is. A. P-L-A-Y-E-R. Stay away from him.”

“Why?” Katrina retorted angrily. “I just met him!”

“Yes, that makes it even more worse,” Jenny snorted. “You don’t know who he really is.”

Then Katrina slammed her locker door loudly, “Fine! Then tell me, how is he like?”

“First, he flirts. Then he says he loves you. After that, he’ll take advantage of you in every possible way like borrowing money that he will never return. For the final kill, he dumps you and shatters your heart!” Jenny spat. “He did it to me before. Don’t let him do it to you.” Then she silently stormed away.

Katrina bit her lip and stared after her. But she didn’t notice that I was standing behind her for the entire time. I gave her a moment until I tapped her shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”

She whirled around, dropping her books at the same time. “Hey, you’re here.”

I nodded my head as I bent down to pick up her books at the same time she did. I waited for her to get the last book then purposely reached for it was well. When our hands touched, she drew in a small sharp breath and glanced shyly at me. I gave her a warm smile back. Partly laughing about this silly move that was used in movies for a million times! Gosh, girls are smart but they’re also pretty dumb.

As we around in the mall, slurping our smoothies, Katrina was acting like she was really nervous and was going to cry right then and there. Like she had something to say but not sure if she should say it or not. I knew it was about me being a player. But, whatever, I’ll just use another textbook trick again.

I headed towards a bench at a corner and patted the seat beside me. She took a deep breath and sat down beside me.

“Katrina, is something wrong?” I asked concernedly but it was obvious from three miles away that something was definitely wrong and the word “player” was practically etched on her flawless forehead.

“Don’t get mad but…” She trailed off, looking uncomfortably at her smoothie.

“Yes?” I urged gently, leaning closer towards her.

“A lot of my friends say you’re a player and I shouldn’t date you but you look like a nice guy so I don’t really believe them. I just want to know: Are you really a player?” She blurted everything out and her jade-colored eyes grew a big as saucers and stared right at me.

I almost guffawed out loud. What kind of girl is this? Did anyone teacher her about “Stranger Danger”? What about “Don’t judge a person by its cover”? Especially bad guys!

You are 100% correct, my dear Katrina. I wanted to tell her. You should never trust people immediately when they just sat down beside you at lunch and asked you out.

She noticed my hesitation and continued to blubber, “So was Jenny right? You might have been sort of a play-”

Then I shut her up with the power of my lips. Which basically means I kissed her on the lips. Her sweet smell of peach and ginger soap washed over my senses, her soft, cotton-like lips that tasted like her strawberry smoothie were like heaven when it touched mines.

There’s one good thing about being a player: You get to kiss loads of girls. For free!

Now that is so worth it.

I broke away and said gently, “I might have broke a few of your friends’ hearts but who hasn’t? I tried to break it to them as gently as possible but… I was too subtle. So I had to use the highway.” Which meant dumping them.

“Oh, I also need to tell you something,” I continued quietly, half kissing her.

“What?”

“I love you.”

Two weeks is the longest a player can keep his “pet” alive (provided you have copied all the homework answers and borrowed all the money you need in that time). So when my History teacher assigned Sasha to be me project partner, I knew I was going in for the kill. Sasha was a piece of cake. She was a nerdy, overly pimpled girl who was a total bookworm. One air kiss and a meal at McDonalds did the job.

Unfortunately, I despised pressing my cheek to her oily lumps on her skin. I never forgot to lather my skin with cleansing foam every time I hugged or kissed her. And she wasn’t exactly a good kisser either.

So Sasha and I went public by kissing in the halls and eating lunch when Katrina was at a meeting with her Co-curricular Activities group or just simply turned her back for a second. Luckily, Sasha didn’t seem to care about anything except for having a boyfriend but I when dumped her quietly that afternoon at lunch. She faked a stomachache to go cry in the washroom. So lame!  

“NATHAN!” Katrina screamed. Ah, the sound of agony echoing in her bedroom.

“Yes?” I lazily looked up from the Rubik’s cube I was solving, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Y-you dickhead!” she shrieked again. “You’re going out with Sasha while you’re dating me?” I shrugged carelessly, “So?”

“Don’t you care?” Katrina yelled. “You’re cheating on me!” She burst into tears. I raised my eyebrows. Wow, I made a girl cry in record time that was 1 minute and 47 seconds. This was awesome!

“I thought you loved me,” she wailed. “I gave you a chance, I loved you!” Her tears gushed down her cheeks and she collapsed on to the floor in front of me. Of course, she meant nothing to me now so I said back at her, “Actually, you were right from the very first day. I’m a player and I’m proud of it. Yes, I’ve broken nearly every girls heart in the school. Yes, everything Jenny said was correct.”

Katrina moaned in despair again, “WHY? WHY? WHY?”

Then I snapped her neck and slaughtered her, “No, I don’t love you. I never did.” After saying that, she cried even more and pulled herself onto her bed. I smiled evilly at her and left her room without a good-bye.

Yep, I broke two girls’ hearts, got A+ in History and finished all of my homework and have enough money to buy a new CD and a bag of candy.

That’s PURE triumph. 

Conflicts

Creative writing challenge: An argument

Glass shattered on the marble floor with a deafening crash.

Ian was furious. Outraged, in fact.

He barely glanced at the million-dollar glass vase he destroyed. It made him feel better thinking about his father finding out about it and hopefully having a heart attack.

“IAN! How dare you!” his father roared. Ian swiveled his head around and found his wretched father stalking down the hallway towards him. His diamond-topped walking stick made an ominous tapping sound on the marble floor of the mansion. His pale gray eyes were flashing with anger, his movements were stiff and his tall, skinny body looked as if his skeleton was going to fall apart any minute.

“Yes, Father?” Ian suppressed his anger and replied in a strained but polite tone. But he made sure it sounded sarcastic.

“First you disobeyed me. Then you cheated and lied. Now you are damaging everything in your way!” his father gestured angrily at the vase.

“I didn’t damage EVERYTHING, Father. I merely scratched it,” Ian retorted.

“I knew passing on the family’s heirloom and fortune to Natalie was a right choice,” his father narrowed his eyes and leaned into Ian’s face like a hawk. That made him snap.

His sister, Natalie, was a normal, spoilt teenage girl who adored pop stars and was addicted to fashion, make up and lotions that stopped you from getting spots and kept your face young and looking good. She loved buying everything she wanted. She loved going to expensive international schools or colleges with elite training but flunking every quiz and exam. She was the kind of girl who doesn’t look at price tags or achievements. Simply putting it, Ian thought she was a disgrace to he family. They, after all, were a family of power and intelligence. His sister, on the other hand, was a complete idiot and had no sense in anything.  

“She is too young!” Ian yelled indignantly. “She will spend all the money on silly things like the newest collections of this season’s Prada or Agnes B. We could use it for more important things!”

“She may be young. She may be shallow. But she is much more innocent that you,” his father spat.

“INNOCENT!” Ian was practically screaming at his father. “You wanted brains, people, power. Now you want INNOCENCE?”

His father didn’t say a word. He knew where this was going.

“I manage half of your business, I run your Art Theft, Sniper Hiring and Illegal Shipping business and now you take my work for granted and give the fortune to NATALIE?” Ian widened his eyes at his father, blue eyes shining with disbelief and darted to his sister’s double mahogany doors that led to her quarters which was most probably filled with the smell of new shoes, bags, clothes and newly printed fashion magazines.

“Then what will YOU use the money for?” he father hissed, starting to pace slowly in a circle around Ian like a lion eyeing his prey.

Ian defiantly lifted his chin and straightened his back, “To carry on the family business, of course.”

“No,” his father growled in Ian’s ear. “I know you too well, my son.”

“You weren’t even here for half of my life, how do you know?” Ian cursed under his breath, remembering the plush chair at the dining table that was usually empty for all seven days of the week.

The padded, deep armchair that was always cold and unoccupied in the library. The bed that only needed to be made a few times a year as his father barely came back from unending businesses to take care of and rarely slept in his bed but rather his large armchair in his office. Ian wasn’t surprised if he had a blanket, pillow and a set of silk PJ’s with his father’s initials sewn in gold on it in his cupboard.    

If his father heard his comment, he didn’t seem to take any note of it, “You will close down all of my most money-making, illegal companies and keep running the rest. You will do stupid things like creating laboratories, sending men to Mars and probably making stuffed dolls for poor children. I would rather want my hard earned money to be wasted on things like shoes or nail polish rather than on your pathetic plans.”

“Why would you think of me like that?” Ian said innocently. After all, his father wanted innocence.

“Your mind his been washed by that somewhat angelic,” he spat out the word “angelic”, “girlfriend of yours. She changed you, my son. You are not the son I had before you met her. She BRAINWASHED you! Emphasis on the word ‘brainwash’.”

“Why don’t you just go to hell?” Ian snarled through gritted teeth. “Natalie might have the right to get the fortune when she’s 18 but I’m seventeen already. I will get it before her. In fact, I tried it today.” The his mind played back how he had stole a copy of his father’s will that he thought was the real one and used his best forgery skills to change the name. Unfortunately, he forgot to add the little tick when his father wrote “Ian” and completely wrecked the whole thing.

“You could be in jail by now,” his father sneered. “Rotting your life away.”

“I’d rather be in jail that have a father like you,” Ian scowled. That did it. His father’s pale eyes suddenly bugged and seemed to be trying to be popping out of their sockets. His frail hand clutched at his chest; almost as if to claw something open. Most probably his heart. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. His legs buckled and crumpled to the floor. Ian just stood there, watching his father fall.

With any luck, forever. Ian’s light blue eyes bored into his father’s, he whirled around, his golden hair falling in front of his eyes. He left his father on the floor, awaiting death.

The cleaners would find him the next morning but it would be too late. 

A drug called love

Day 04: Discuss your feelings on the word “love” and the way it’s used in today.

“Love”.

We can’t live without it yet we sometimes feel as if it’s the worst thing ever.

You need it, but you hate it. Like drugs.

I had a couple of crushes before. The feeling is strange… Your heart is being ripped into pieces yet at the same time you feel as if you’re floating every time you see that person.

Love is terrifying- you never know what’s going to happen, good or bad

Love is paradise- you’re with “The One”

Love is exciting- the twists and turns are just heart stopping, literally

Love is a dream- because sometimes it shatters and you have to wake up to reality but sometimes it comes true

Love is an illusion- because that one might have never loved you before when you treated them like the sun in your life

Love is painful- because things… snowball. Go downhill all the way. Just break apart.

Simply putting it: Feelings change

Love is everything- because without love, where would we be right now?

Love is happiness- because you just might find bliss, your happily ever after, “The One” when you’re in love

Love is hope- because with love, you know you can realize once again whom you are, where you belong, where you shine.

Love is nothing- because love is just basically an emotion that we pour too much of our attention and effort in.

Just like happiness, just like sadness.

It’s just an emotion.

Love is forever- because when you truly love someone, the feeling is overpowering you and you can still radiate is on and on and on…

Friendly love- your friends love you for who you are. Not by your looks, your family members, your riches, your possessions. Not anything but who you are. They are there all the time to help you, guide you, and talk to you. Just being there makes me feel loved.

Love- it basically means that person IS your life. You cling on to him. He is your oxygen, your sun. When he is taken away, you feel as if you snap. Your life mentally breaks down.

   

  

A couple, a pair

Creative writing challenge: A couple.

Her long slim fingers weaved themselves through mine. She tilted her head to smile at me. I immediately captured that dazzling flash of her snowy white teeth that sparkled in the sun and that sweet, cute little dimple on her rosy cheek. Her dark, spirited eyes sparkled with joy as they stared right into mine. I could actually see myself in her eyes. I sighed contentedly and leaned in, not quite kissing her yet but pressing my nose gently against hers. Her skin felt like satin under mines and I could feel each curve of her perfectly shaped cheekbones that seemed to interlock with mines. Like we were made for each other. I breathed in her warm, sweet cinnamon scent, like she just woke up from a well-rested nap that weaved itself into my nose and hit the roof of my mouth.

Then my lips brushed hers. I could feel a smile forming on her delicate face as I kissed her passionately. Our lips moving in unity as we shared the warm embrace, I wrapped my arms tightly around her, bringing her closer, practically lifting her off the floor. One of my hands found its way up to the back of her head and I started to absent-mindedly play with her thick golden locks that swirled and cascaded around her. She broke apart but still stayed in my arms, her eyes now playful and half closed with satisfaction. She then nuzzled my chest and lay her head on my shoulders and I rested my chin on hers, rocking back and forth.     

Ah, and here’s another one…

I skipped swiftly amongst the trees. I could hear the crunching of the fallen golden leaves that carpeted the ground as my feet kissed the ground, a dead giveaway for him.

“Gotcha!” a tall, fair-haired figure darted in front of me and suddenly pressed his lips to mine. I was surprised for a second until my senses recognized him.

His affectionate eyes always locked on me that seemed to change color to match his every turtleneck sweater. The softness of his arms that squeezed my shoulders and the faint tickle of his peppermint sweetened breath as it wreathed around my senses, making them tingle and go on override mode.

He leaned back and I saw that he had a peculiar smug smirk on his flawless, handsome face. He let out a chuckle and asked, “What?” Then I realized I was staring at him like a moonstruck rabbit. (Actually, I think I am quite moonstruck.) I shook my head; purposely letting my strawberry red hair fall in front of my eyes so he would gently brush is back for me. And he did. I loved it when he did that. He tucked it back behind my ears and reached for my hand.

Then I could feel the firm grip that I was sure that would never let me go.        

The fuck?

Remember I old you in the previous post Mrs. Lau was going to invite my mom in for a "chat"?
Guess what? THAT JUST MADE EVERYTHING FUCKING WORSE.
She came back, sat on my couch, AND FUCKING YELLED AT ME. She was yelling at me about some crap about me being more stupid than others, not putting enough effort. Then she made me speak PTH or Canto at home with her. THE FUCK? I fucking hate cantonese. I fucking hate chinese. Why the fuck do I need to speak it like 50%+ each day?
Yes, you may say "Don't talk to her". I can't, she made my DAD to do it as well! THE FUCK?
Then I just cried and took a nap. After I woke up and had dinner, my mom slammed a whole bunch of papers and books on the dining table. She started screaming at me about exams and fucking Chinese History. I immediately lost my appetite, didn't even touch my rice and just showered and went to bed.
BEFORE 10 o' clock. I was out cold already at eleven o' clock.
Okay, that wasn't the bad part. The bad part was I started to loose my mind in the shower.
I'm not joking, okay? I was seriously getting flashes of me in the mental wing of the hospital. Screaming. Then I just realised I was ACTUALLY screaming in the shower. Then I started crying so badly, the tears were none stop streaming down. I couldn't stop. I couldn't even stop when I was brushing my teeth. THE FUCK?
Then The next day in Chinese, I had a pair of scissors and I just started cutting myself in class. I couldn't stop and was non-stop thinking about last night's screaming and my mom yelling at me.
I'm back in depression again. When it just started to get better! THE FUCK?