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GingerSkyy
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Name: Nyssa
Birthday: 6/14/1990
Gender: Female
Interests: anime, backpacking, blood, carabiners, cheese, coffee, dancing, debate, diving, electronics, food, french, grammar, german, history, kayaking, languages, manga, mythology, politics, psychology, reading, role playing, speech, star wars, writing
Expertise: Professional Freeloader, Career Failure, "Best Wench in Area 200", Speaking (That's right, ass holes. If you beat me, it's on a low-point win.)
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
AIM:  XMonCoeurBruleX
MSN: napolian_kayaker@charter.net
Yahoo:  xprofessionalxfreeloaderx
Member Since:
9/4/2005
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| PRO-TIP: Never go back and read your old blog entries unless you have a strong desire to bash your head against a wall. T_T So embarrassing ... | | |
| "If I Could"
Storyhill You have the heaven in your eyes that I've been looking for
The fire that's in the sun is in our hearts
And with a stick I write your name on the shifting shore
And then you write mine next to yours And if I could I would write your name on every grain of sand on every shore We slept our sleepless nights alone wonderin' what it's all for
Until we found each other here
Still we lie awake at night and we talk about the things
That we would only talk about behind closed doors And if I could I would lie awake with you every night and all nights evermore
And if I could I would write your name on every grain of sand on every shore We don't have any money, we've never had any money before
All truths told, we're downright poor
Still we go window shopping, on Saturdays we hit the stores
Some eat the apple, we eat the core But if I could I would buy for you every diamond in every jeweler's store
And if I could I would lie awake with you every night and all nights evermore
And if I could I would write your name on every grain of sand on every shore
And if I could I would write your name on every grain of sand on every shore
And if I could I would write your name on every grain of sand on every shore | | |
| As spring -- my favorite season -- rolls in, the air warms, the snow and ice melt, and the trees, flowers, and grasses push through the memory of the cold winter frosts and reawaken to the world in colorful bloom.
But the snow and ice are not the only things thawing; the trees, flowers, and grasses are not the only things reawakening. The ice in my thoughts and memories have been melting, and these, too, are reawakening.
I was sitting here, looking out the window, when suddenly I was walking down the busy street by my house, the cool wind brushing over my skin, and running through my hair. I could smell the wet earth and the scent of spring in the wind. I could hear it rushing past my ears. Suddenly, I was there: this time a year ago.
I snapped back to myself and shook my head. It was the strangest thing ... a flashback so powerful like that.
It's been like this for a while. My thoughts have wandered back to This Time a Year Ago. I had just broken up with Neil, and so many things were happening ... inside of me, and out. I remember all the secret rendez-vous with Joe ... all the times I walked to the cemetary or the park ... all the times I walked down that road to clear my head, to get away from him. I feel the shadows of emotions and feelings from This Time a Year Ago pass over me.
It's all coming back.
It feels like a million years ago. But, it's only been one.
I don't worry. This isn't a bad feeling. It's just ... strange. Somewhat distracting. Slightly uncomfortable: like an itch.
But I don't disregard it, either. I'm sure there is a reason for this. My mind never throws things at me without a reason. There has to be a source. I can feel it. Not only that, but certain ... events ... have played out, and they have all been related to This Time a Year Ago. Music I listened to This Time a Year Ago ... Seeing him at lunch in very close proximity ... Being with Joe yesterday ...
There's something here I believe I will have to confront. But I don't think I'm there yet.
So until then ... it's just strange. Somewhat distracting. Uncomfortable: like an itch.
This Time a Year Ago ... | | |
| Wow ... I'm just ... so lost right now. | | |
| I'm just a girl. Just a little girl ... With little-girl dreams of saving the world with love and daisies.
I never could quite understand how I can be jaded and cynical enough to view the world with bitter distain while still being so naive that any little thing can come along and tear my heart apart. | | |
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