Write Art

I am an artist.

That's what I see myself as. What I think , what I say, what I write, I do it imaginatively.

I am an artist.

It's what I know to be. What I think, what I say, what I write, I do it inspiringly.

I am an artist.

What I think, what I say, what I write—everything—is creatively thought, methodically processed.

I am an artist.

And I can never be truly satisfied.

Because it's who I am.

I am...an artist.

A Man of Words and Not Deeds

A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds
And when the weeds begin to grow
It's like a garden full of snow
And when the snow begins to fall
It's like a bird upon the wall
And when the bird away does fly
It's like an eagle in the sky
And when the sky begins to roar
It's like a lion at the door
And when the door begins to crack
It's like a stick across your back
And when your back begins to smart
It's like a penknife in your heart
And when your heart begins to bleed
You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.

Meet-Cute

sitting down
looking up
zoning out
getting bored

he walked out
towards me
sheepish smile
geeky grin
asked

talked
laughed
delight
shared
joy
exchanged
names
a handshake
goodbye
wave
and smile

wondered...
will we meet-cute again?

The Undomestic Lady

So I had set out to cook sun-dried tomato pasta today only to fail to find the main ingredient. On top of that, I got lost in Giant. AND...I spotted 3 small cockroaches. UGH. That's more than enough reminders in a day as to why I don't do grocery shopping.

Yes, it does seem "almost" ridiculous that I'm even using a trolley.

Anyway, until I manage to find sun-dried tomatoes, my domestication shall be put on hold. Oh, only quite happy to, if I should add. =)

On The Run

Catch me if you can.

Find Your Jesus · Find Your Kubrick

...cause in you I've found my freedom.

Not Ever Again

Oh the twisted tales they tell
The words they fail to spell
The vicious lies they spread
Losing myself I slowly dread

Half believing yet not buying
Those fabrication of the truth
They make my heart turn bad
Turning me into a sleuth

Like straw spun to gold
I don't know how they do
My words became cold
But only towards you

You bring out the horror in me
One I hate to see
You've pushed me to my tipping point
Oh how you've disappoint

With my dignity still in tact
We will never go back
Your shallow thoughts and uncouth ways
You will forever have to pay

Ironically I must say
Much I have learnt
About your gay ways to your current
But I will never be led astray

Not ever again.

My Mind's Made Up

Ifyoureallymustknow,Ihaveyoutwirledaroundmyfinger,playingyoulikehowIplayfbpoker.Withoutasinglecarefortheworld.Becauselikefbpokerchips,youareasfakeastheyfeel.Whatapity.Whatashame.Andyouthoughtyouhadeverythingallfiguredout.*Scoffs*Pusspuss.