Picket fences and spearmint polos

Dear Nina, im sorry i havent written to you like i swore i would. I do think about you more than i write or talk to you. Love, Tori.

Dear Claire, i love you. You truely are an angel. You may be a bad influence on my innocent, niave mind but i will forgive you as long as you promise me that nothing will ever change. Love, Victor.


You will never be the person you have the potential to be. You wont ever over-acheive or treat yourself with enough respect to make yourself proud. You will continue to accept a lack of confidence as an excuse for the fact you are too lazy and insecure to make something of yourself. You, as a natural human being, have the same choices and oppertunities as everyone around you. How you make these oppertunities unique is a choice that takes a special person to do; you are not special. You cannot be a good person. You dont have the personality to ensure that inside your head ticks a thousand cogs that work like clockwork to give each individual a kick start. You do not have this. Your cogs need oilling. You are useless and pathetic and i pity you with everything i have inside me. You dont surprise me because i expect nothing of you. You will go no where. You are nothing. You are a no-one. You are simply a waste of the effort it takes to acknowledge you. You have no purpose and no benefit and no use. You waste yourself and ruin your own life. Karma will get you.
Prove.
Me.
Wrong.

Vik.x

Lets Go To The Hop

Throw me whoever you like.
I love my Grandma and Grandad more than anything.



They both bring me so much happiness by simply looking into their wise old faces.

Dont Cry Jack

Bye bye blondie.


Things are changing but the people arnt.
Thats whats making things change; the fact that some people just are fixed on staying in the same frame of mind.
Its sad, but its true.
You've brought it on for yourself, you deserve everything you get.
I blame you.




Sometimes its alot easy to give up but thats not what makes life a challenge.
You're meant to spit the rain back to the sky arent you?




The only thing you will ever need is one singular person that you are able to vent to. The person has to be trustworthy and very clearly there for the long run.
Ive had mine for many years now.
I pay her in vodka, laughter and lambrini. So she keeps quiet until i need a good moan.
I dont really bother with her very much, other than when i need her.
But, the thing is, that happens to be all the time.




Ive found an emotion you cannot deny.




Hips dont look attractive when they are connect, take note.




Losing one parent is unfortunate. Losing two is just careless.





/OUT

Russian rap stars

www.sawpeg512.blogspot.com
thats one that is done more or less every day or so... but its not words...

I cant find Aarons blog.
I dont know where it is.
If i wanted to, i could please Miss Nina Moores and make my lack of Aarons url into a mind bending analogy. But to be quite honest, i cant be too bothered to think so deeply into that statement.

Basically this is a space-filler. Something to bide my time whilst i have very few things to say. I havent written in what seems like forever yet there is nothing of any great importance to report.

So i wont waste your time.

Dont worry blogspot. I havent forsaken you. I will return soon with numerous paragraphs of attempted blogs and strings of words with capital letters and punctuation.



Vik.x

The ghosts that broke my heart.

Sometimes you can tell you are annoying someone.
Sometimes it annoys you, sometimes you dont care.
You dont know how lucky we are.


I'm at the starting line and its all ahead of me. Just a long, straight track.
Theres not just me though, because im surrounded by hundreds of other people too. By looking at their faces, you can tell what theyre thinking. Some of them are evidently raring to go; excited at the prospect of the race ahead. Others are scared, petrified at the thought of having to begin. Some just seem disinterested and, to the dismay of the competitors that seem worried, dont seem to be at all effected or anxious.
Its time to take up the mark. We step up, united. Together, we are all at the very start. Our different feelings and anticipations and attitudes are forgotten. The ones who are reluctant now join with the ones who are keen. Regardless of the details, none of these people stood beside me can escape the fact we are stood where we are. The starting line.
We begin now. Some people dont even start; never even crossing the starting line. Some only walk, some sprint, some jog. But right away its clear that some are better than the others, because they speed off and leave the slower competitors behind.
I focus on my own track now. I focus on keeping in the white lines. I focus on being unfocused on the rest. For as far as i can see the track is straight and pretty wide. Heading off into the distance, the lines vanish. They merge into a blurry mist on the horizon. Things start to change now, because a few of the tracks combine into one causing the two runners to be running together. Some runners stop, unable to take it. Their races are over.
Now i can see my track clearer, even though sometimes its clouded and hazy, it begins to lift again. It starts to get bumpy and rough, i'm stumbling to keep on my feet. Other people have had this already, some fell at the challenge but the most persistant continued. The track becomes flat, then steep, then muddy, then cold, then too hot, then cloudy. The obsticles become more frequent. Then they disappear and everything is smooth. Just as i think i'm doing ok, something will block my path and i will have to climb over it. The different competitors encounter different barriers at different times. Not all of them can keep up with the crowd and they run at their own pace. Plenty give up, stop running and find it strange trying to take on all these obsticles. I know in my head that i cannot give up and stop running. Even though its muddy and sometimes windy or rough.


Ive been running my race for 15 years now.
Its not getting easier, or harder.
Its just a challenge.
Keep it up.
x x x x x x x x

20th of July, 1969

The moon gets its light by reflecting rays from the sun. Without the sun the moon is nothing, just a dark entity in the giant vacuum we call space. You make me feel whole, with you i can be anything i want to be. I have confidence and i embrace life to the full. You make me someone. I am the moon and you are my sun.







Approx; 60.7 billion people, that we know of.

Pretty sick of just being one of an approximation..








From, Vik x

Taps at my window.

I just turned to look at him. There was something about the pale, dusky light pouring from the window that made his eyes sparkle with unspoken words. They looked hollow, in such a full way - as if he had so many things he wanted to say, but he knew it wasn't the right time. The stupidly ridiculous hat was perched on his head, causing the long buried memories of summer to come flooding back. They had been stored in a box at the back of my mind, just to stop them teasing me whilst the rain fell and the skies were grey. Him sat in that net backed hat threw me violently into my little gemmed orange dollies, sat on the park bench in the fading light of the summer days. Messing nervously with my hands in my lap, paying no attention to the large group of summer-drunk teens by my side, who knew their claim to the innocence of youth was dimming. Awkwardly focusing on the scuffs on my toes and the dirt on my heels, from yesterdays episode with the long grass and the murky ponds, my naive head was swimming with the expectations and the love for the ever fading holidays. Nobody needed to say a word, but we all knew it was the summer of our lives. The summer for firsts, lasts and in betweens. The summer of irreplaceable feelings of belonging and inclusion. Our daily rituals had become somewhat of a culture, causing the holidays to become useless in terms of a break from school and brighter in terms of it becoming our way of life. So sitting with tanned arms and grazed knees on that bench was no different from the routine of previous days. The feeling i felt for him then, complimented the grassy air and the cracked paving flags. It grew stronger, much like the bonds formed with the people who surrounded me. As summer filled our heads, romance filled our hearts. Some more than others.
By the end of the seemingly eternal vacation, hearts were broken and dignities fixed. As the school year started, the dreams and wishes ended of a summer that seemed to prove that anything was possible. Studies started, along with the winter winds and the forgotten chills of the all important rain storms. The desire for cheap alcohol turned into the need for hot chocolates and warm milk. We swapped our immodest skirts for umbrellas and our neck scarfs for woolen knits. As the fashion of the vibe changed, one thing didn't. Of all the comings and goings and the inconsistencies that summer held, one thing remained. It was him.
I knew by looking into his eyes, there and then in the pale dusky light pouring from the window, he knew it. He knew that the events and the drama of the months before and weeks after our well-spent summer holidays didn't matter. Regardless of it, there was one thing that we had spread further than any of the frisbees we threw in the sun or the races we ran on the grass. I knew what his eyes were saying. I hope he knew what mine were replying.
Darling, i love you as much in gloves and scarfs than i did in trucker hats and tank tops.