mantra

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.

- friedrich nietzsche

people.and.stuff

wiki.dumper
magmozine
a.guy.site
bad.chinese.mama
jejune.net
a.cause.des.garcons
spit.on.a.stranger
sluggernaut
honeyee
zefrank
born.a.waterhead
diane.pernet
tribe.net
gallery.of.the.absurd
world.community.grid
smarty.pants
bradford.shellhammer
wonder.boy
ohlala.mag
julie.fredrickson
fashionologie

pretty.things
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thoughts.gone.by

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my school wrote me as an 'aspiring novelist, and a critic'. jesus fucking christ, mary, and joseph. i have never verbalised to anyone that i aspire to be a novelist. a critic, maybe, but that was never part of my main life plan.

it's funny how people think of me as inept and too fluid that i don't have a firm grasp on reality, and having any solid plan to direct my life to. the truth is, i hide many things from many people, and contrary to their beliefs, i have laid plans and backup plans on the directions i am heading towards in life, but i simply don't want to share it. when i do share it, i lied. this is further worsened when i'm struggling to fabricate a story as to why i would head that direction, since my feeble attempt at diverting attention makes me appear more incompetent and scatter-brained.

it's a vicious circle, people. that's my life in a nutshell. full of secrecies, hidden implications, whispered intentions and veiled truths.




posted by frau frump.

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