the raven

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'"

take me to a place.

take me to a place where every third day the weather is gloomy
so i can appreciate the sunlight.

take me to a place where everyone truly cares for one another
where love is not feigned in order to gain favours.

take me to a place where everyone is themselves
and everyone is proud of that.

take me to a place where 'drugs' are adrenaline.
and you get high off fresh air.

take me to a place where sleep is instantaneous
and enjoyable.

take me to a place where music is something that brings us together
rather than a cause of dislike.

take me to a place where the only thing that you are influenced by
is yourself

take me to a place where nobody is cool.
where everyone loves each other regardless of their social status and influence.

take me to a place where the notion of 'wanting to be someone else'
does not exist.

take me to the place i wish i could go to in my dreams.

who cries?

death of a whale.
when the mouse died, there was a sort of pity;
the tiny, delicate creature made for grief.
yesterday, instead, the dead whale on the reef
drew an excited multitude to the jetty.
how must a whale die to wring a tear?
lugubrious death of a whale; the big
feast for the gulls and sharks; the tug
of the tide simulating life still there,
until the air, polluted, swings this way
like a door ajar from a slaughterhouse.
pooh! pooh! spare us, give us the death of a mouse
by its tiny hole; not this in our lovely bay.
-- sorry, we are, too, when a child dies:
but at the immolation of a race, who cries?

dost thou love me?

Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'




i like to draw peoples' legs just hanging there.
_{i find it quite funny. (:}

lace;

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
  So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
  So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

photos by me.
model; me
clothes: singlet; country road
skirt; noa noa