Pretty simple; a package of thoughts; Goes a little crazy; Emotions onslaught;


.In love with arts, nature, and all works of God.
.Passionate in crafts, arts and food.
.Appreciating Editorials + good photog/graphs.
.Better off single but built for community.

- Miss JuxtaConoclaskay

Confessions, lies, truths all the same

"One day when you see my face by day, not under the moonlight but face to face. When you say, i will say: Und mir, du."


Does it matter? One day we are gone; Whatever that is on earth only matters to those that are still here.

Wearables

Michelle
kikikillslala Mr.Newton
TheClothesWhisperer Terence-fashionographer
MLPS Sethsabal
Crazy Dancing Sister

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I am in my own bubble.

It took me that long to kinda fake conformity.

To kinda break out of my bubble.

A little breather.

But, I actually kept that bubble,

waiting for the right time, 

the one i have been expecting, 

and then, back into the safety of that transparent cover.

Like that.

Here used to be a safe haven.

Used to be.

I thought i can be strong enough.

I thought i have grown enough.

I thought i have lived.

I thought it was okay.

I thought it was enough.

But there are people, 

who are too greedy,

too mindful,

too much for me.

So painful it is to touch,

that's why i choose Lilies.

So difficult to make them ________;

That's why Vanilla.

Its better to be far than near,

at the end, its the me that matters.

Never you, never we, never they, never us.

I am selfish,

I am not devoted enough.

I am not that good.

But i tried.

I give up because it is so heavy to hold.

It's so difficult to balance right?

If you hold it wrongly, 

it hurts.

If you hold it too tight,

it hurts.

Too loose?

It goes.

Too long?

It is old.

Too temporarily?

Not enough.

If you hold it right?

Not good enough.

If you let go?

Regret and relief.

What would you do?

Some times i question the things i write. 

haha.

I am just weary, 

but when i am not,

that is when i am really scary.

Because when i am weary,

i am vulnerable.

My cries are real.

But often,

that is when people are afraid.

When people refuse to acknowledge.

They run, they hide, the shy away.

They refuse to believe,

a person of such is of such.

Why won't you love that bunch of lilies,

do they not signify so much more?

Do they not stay so much more?

Good to hold.

But no one, appreciates.

- The person behind the pencil is Running on handle bar.