Je serai tes ailes.

Tu seras mes ailes

Dans ce voyage éternal

Un monde nouveau nous appelle 

Pour des années lumiere, 

au fond de l'univers

Le bonheur nous appelle

Nos deux coeurs ont des ailes.

Mon amour, quand l'Amour monte au ciel....

"if you follow your heart"

A song I should 

take seriously.

Gotta "follow my 

heart."

(As corny as it sounds...)

"Good riddance to the beetle."

Thumbelina: "And the beetle says I'm ugly."

The Sparrow: "The beetle? You love the beetle?"

"No."

"Then never mind the beetle. Good riddance to the beetle. 

Does Prince Cornelius think you are ugly?"

"No, he thinks I'm beautiful."

"And so you are, mon ami."

that's a wrrrrap.

My wrapping skills aren't too bad this year!!!

I tried my  best to avoid the whole wrapping problem last year by just stuffing everything

in a bag with some nice tissue paper. (I even screwed that up by somehow managing to rip the tissue paper. It was awful.) But this year is different. I confronted the situation and imagined I was one of those people who get paid to wrap presents. (Still can't believe that is an actual profession. There's a profession for everything nowadays.) And I pretended that if I didn't get this right...I would get fired.

Although it sounds really dumb and retarded...it worked! 

Et voila! 

This was the result!

http://robo.to/ellalalaure

(The H&M thing is an inside joke!) 

kill.

I have never said something THIS immature buuut:

You're a stupid, ugly, DISRESPECTFUL whore.

That's all. (:

BITCH.

taken from christinadagger

I thought this was clever enough to do:

Add up the things you’ve done and the total with be your title.

$58.50 buuuut seriously...I blame number 17 and 18 on Marvin. Harsh not my fault. It should REALLY be $51.50

1. Had sex: $10.00
2. Smoked: $3.00
3. Got drunk: $7.00
4. Went skinny dipping: $5.00
5. Kissed someone of the opposite sex: $5.00
6. Kissed someone of the same sex: $5.00
7. Cheated on a test: $2.00  (Seriously?) 
8. Fell asleep in class $0.50  (I started in Grade 2...or was it 3? Either way I blame Jordan Macken for calling me out.)
9. Been expelled: $5.00
10. Been in a fist fight: $10.00
11. Given oral: $10.00
12. Got oral: $10.00
13. Prank called the cops: $3.00
14. Stole something: $2.00
15. Done drugs: $5.00
16. Dyed your hair: $0.50 (Proud to say that my hair is STILL a virgin.)
17. Done something with someone older (like a few years): $3.00 (Done something as in what? Whoever made this needs to get more precise....)
18. Went out with someone OVER 18 (if your under 18): $4.00  (whoever made this is stupid and we wouldn't get along cuz it's YOU'RE! not your!)
19. Ate a whole thing of oreos: $0.50
20. Cried yourself to sleep: $1.00
21. Said you love someone but didnt mean it: $1.00 (hmmmmm...)
22. Been in love: $4.00 (why is this $4?!?! It's not even a BAD thing.)
23. Got caught doing something that you shouldn’t have been doing: $1.00
24. Went streaking: $4.00
25. Got arrested: $5.00
26. Made out with someone: $2.00
27. Peed in the pool: $0.50  (What if I was in like... Kindergarten?!?!? Then what?!) 
28. Played spin the bottle: $1.00
29. Done something you regret: $3.00

Jason makes me YEARN to go back.

"Paris is a perfumed city, bedazzled in lights, leather and legs. It is a city that inspires poetry, romance and leave-in conditioner. This is the one city where I’m neither bothered by cigarette smokers nor stinky cheese. Being here makes me want a chateau to claim as my castle. Being here makes me want to sleep in an expensive suit while I dream in black in white. Yet while the city consumes my imagination, I am content in the corner, a tourist observing the colorful world in a state of perpetual newness. Even in the busiest of places, I find solace as if the city were sound proof, the babble of voices being the drone of raw emotion, nothing more. My understanding of the language is so minimal that comparing it to a call of wild animals is the best I can do to apply any meaning to it. Therefore, everything I hear is magical, like ears listening to ballet. The whir of le scooter, the ding of the vino, the clop of the boots and unzipping of jackets supply the musical accompaniment to all of it including my clinking miniature spoonfuls of sugar into my annual espresso. 

I come to this café every time I’m here as it’s right around the corner from my Parisian hotel away from home. It’s where I’ve purchased many journals and spent hours filling them. Being here is a wonderful feeling every time. And it’s times like these I pray a life like this lasts forever. According to the Champs Elysées, it will. Sustaining centuries and the pace of millions, she remains one of the great avenues. And just as the Arc de Triomphe has no plan to lose the staring contest against the Louvre, neither will I let myself lose this love for Paris."

-Jason Mraz

I couldn't have said it in any other way. I miss you, Paris. 

More than this, I miss my cousins in Paris. There's something about blood that makes it seem like you

just saw each other yesterday... when, in reality, it's been years since you've heard each other laugh. 

There's something about childhood that can re-piece parts of you that you forgot were there. 

And that realization is so astoundingly magical that you can't help but feel complete.

Like a vital part of you, a kidney, a song,  a heart... has been reinstalled into your body. Into your soul. 

all routine.

"When you love someone, there's a pattern to the way you come together. 

You might not even realize it, but your bodies are choreographed: 

a touch to the hip, 

a stroke of the hair, 

a staccato kiss, 

break away, 

a longer one, 

his hand slipping under your shirt. 

It's a r o u t i n e, but not in the boring sense of the word. 

It's just the way you've learned to fit, 

and it's why, when you've been with one guy for a long time, 

your teeth do not scrape together when you kiss; 

you do not bump noses or elbows."  

Our "Dawn."

Marvin and I were lying down going through craigslist. 

Dreaming of our dawn.

Imagining what a future together would look like

and what house we would live in for the first years together;

we decided on a loft. 

 

The Living Room.The Kitchen. The bedroom.

So what do you guys think? hah. 

We think it'll make a very happy home...just because we're together. HAHA.

This loft boasts: An unique set up with added privacy to the bedroom area and 15' ceilings. Upgrades include heated tiled entry way, new lighting, a large translucent enclosed shower, automatic bathroom lighting, built-in work station, built in speakers & a built-in fireplace! Other great features you'll have are exposed brick, wood-beams and concrete floors. LOCATION: Live in historic Gastown with some of Vancouver's greatest new restaurants and clothing stores and the Carrall Street Greenway linking you to the seawall. LIFESTYLE: Open-concept loft living at its best!

seriously?

I promised myself I wouldn't do this.

But here I am wasting time and basically STALLING

so that I won't have to do homework.

...I know I'm going to do it. 

I'm still a keener like that. 

Let's plan how I'm going to do my homework so that I'm not REALLY wasting time...:

1) Go through AP English poems/stories and dictionary.com all the words that I don't know. 

Then try to paraphrase/make some sense of each one. Notes notes notes notes. (I can't believe I finished English 12 early! Don't have to sit around for those boring grad transition classes :P love you guys. tee hee.)

2) History sheets!!!! Find all terms and whatnot. Try to make them as detailed as possible for the in-class multi-paragraph essay. 

3) Did I have Physics homework? 

Whatever.

4) Math. Gotta keep it up if I wanna get into UBC :S !!!!! Geometric Sequences are super easy though! Screw logs. I hate logs. 2log :) :) :)

Okay...here I go....

  ...maybe.

scary shit.

This has become sooo real. And so serious. And so...deep.

I'm so deep in it that I can't even recognize the time before I dived in. 

And there is no coming out. 

"We triumph again." 

one day

difficulties.

"She took a bite of the lamb. First feeling the tender meat reducing between her jaws, then the steel of the fork cold on her tongue, and finally...the taste of death. The taste of an innocent animal.

She gagged." 

I feel the death of us on my tongue.

I keep writing possible text msgs and instead of pressing "send to," I press "save as draft." Is that how bad it is?

just deal.

Have you ever lost your heart? But kept enough of your mind alive to at least function? It's the worst. Because you're in a weird uncomfortable sort of between-insanity.

It's like doing your math homework while crying. 

You're still able to do the math (and get the right answers) because a part of you feels it's the right thing to do since it's what you were doing before he phoned. And so you continue to figure out what t10 is if t7=1/2 and t2=4.

And after 15 arduous problems... you realize that your worksheets are blotted with tears. 

But you only realize after.

Frames tell. (not finished)

There was a time that I couldn't deal. 

I couldn't deal with seeing your face around the house...

little snapshots of how we used to be...

how you used to BE. 

So, I made reality real and took you out of every frame.

And I realized

the empty frame felt my pain. 

We shared the agony of not being able to embrace you.

We argued that it isn't fair.

We both wanted to be there...

where you are.

meant to be

M1G4E3H

what are the chances?

please say we're a bridge (part one)

Minutes that turned into hours

that turned into days and years of 

back-breaking labour 

proved to be worth it

because I...

I built this.

I built this in which you and I are now joined.

I built this in which we are connected in partial solidarity. 

This solidarity, however, has become so trivial because of how long

and how ardently I have been constructing this connection with you.

But I...

I have done it.

I can walk right through and over anything to get to you.

There is nothing that can stand in our way.

And you know it. 

You know that you are mine to walk to, mine to be with, mine to stand tall beside...

mine.

We are two properties, side by side...and linked.

More, if not most, importantly...LINKED. 

I feel that this connection is to be shared; to be flaunted, like a bridge. 

To be made known for all to see, to look up to, and to marvel at for its' flight, for its' strength, for its' stability.  

We were made to be seen. 

But I feel like you don't feel like I do. You give me the impression that we're a tunnel.

Twice as long as we are wide. Enclosed all around with the exception of two openings.

Hidden and reliable. Hidden and advantageous. Hidden and abused. Hidden...

Reliable when, times before, they were used for escape.

Advantageous when having to go somewhere that can't be gotten to in any other way. 

Abused... for all who pass through only to pass. 

But bridges.

Bridges are marveled at when one passes through because it gives height as if one were flying. 

Bridges don't sway but stay in the air. Stay steady and still; as if standing on solid ground.

And I think bridges are how you and I are. How WE are connected and will remain connected... that is, until one burns down...until the other is left with a hole in their side. But for now before any holes, I want to soar with you.

So please, 

please tell me we're a bridge.  

In Repair

"This is a song about being fucked up but coming out of it, y'know?

When you're a kid and you get 

a tennis ball to the nuts, it's one of the worse

feelings in the world but all men will tell you that 

there's no better feeling than when it stops hurting."

-John Mayer

Too many shadows in my room.

Too many hours in this midnight.

Too many corners in my mind.

So much to do to set my heart right.