45 ) - A simple but lovely true love story of mine.
This is a very sweet and touching story of mine. It gives me a lovely and touched recap whenever I was bored. I know him when I was 16. He is the guy who had changed my entire life. I do have other relationships before, but he is different. I met him life have become different for me.
After chatting for some time, we decided to meet up at the shopping centre nearby my home, Chua Chu Kang Lot 1
He is wearing a red tee, a white coat, black pants and black shiny leather shoes. My first impression was he is ugly, old but charming. He had impressed me by his manly look, and then we went up to the arcade to meet my friend, Eileen. Both of them were not really at good term with each other at first as Eileen thinks that he is quite rude, and wanted to go off first, leaving us alone. He placed his order and we made our way to the smoking benches outside the restaurant
He then showed me a photo taken with his ex-girlfriend, a Taiwan girl, named Carrie. He looked cool in the photo. I was admired by his maturity. He smokes Marlboro Red, with his gold color Zippo lighter, I love that lighter a lot and thought that he was a coolest smoker I ever seen.
Around 6pm in the evening, we decided to leave as I think it is time for me to go home. He sends me home taking TIBS Bus service 989. We sat at the last row of the bus. This is where our beautiful romance begins.
Due to the strong air condition, he took off his coat and gave it to me. He then looked into my eyes and holds my hands, asking me to be his girlfriend. Butterflies were flying in my stomach.
When he realised that I didn’t give him any reply, and he declared, “I give a count of 5, and if you didn’t answer, I’ll take it that you have agreed."
5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Ok! For this moment you will be mine, Mi Nan’s girl friend, I will always take good care of you.” This is how our happiness started on Saturday, 1st September, 2001, evening time.
People commented that our relationship would not last as this is like any IRC meeting or a short term BGR so I didn’t demand anything from this relationship maybe because I was too young to commit myself.
Well, I didn’t know that this guy will be the guy whom I really like and want to be with. But before I know it, I have already given my whole heart to him when I saw all that he has done for me.
I admit that I’m not a good girl friend as I didn’t spare any thoughts for him. I always picking up small quarrels and expected him to love me more every time. He always believes that this relationship will continue to have sparks, and will hold on to it with whatever he have to support, and I always take for him granted and demand more from him.
I always believe that he will be there for me whenever I need him.
What I know is whatever he was doing at that time is always for me, his education, his perception of life and everything. I was in his first priority in life.
He grooms me with his fashion senses and buys clothes for me. I begin to dress maturely even at the age of 16. He brought me to the life of luxuries with delicious food and pampered me well. He didn’t go for looks at all. He gave me whatever he could afford. However, my dream shattered away when he decided to left.
We had gone through thick and thin, promised to love each other no matter what had affected our lives. Many people envied me for having a good boyfriend who love, care and accompanied whenever I need him. I am not a good girlfriend; I always make him angry and picked up fights.
Once, I vent my anger on him and suggested a break-off, he came down from Hougang in the middle of the night to console and hugged me, despite the criticism I said. I'm very touched, laugh and cried that the same time. My tongue was twisted when I saw him. I really love him a lot but I like to make him angry too. I am really childish at that time, knowing nothing even my Mr. Right is standing in front of me
He was the most understanding guy I've ever meet. He always tried to make me happy with all his funny acts, like making monkey’s faces, act “cool” and even buy good food for me. He didn’t mind my weakness and loves me even deeper when he shower me with his love
A popular Korean show “Sassy girl” had reflects a lot about our relationship. I've always hate myself for being the way the actress acts on how she bully her boyfriend whom characteristic is timid, caring and funny. He gave me his very best and treasures me by giving me his everything included his heart but I always neglected his feeling. I always thought that Nan will always be there whenever I need him.
Dreams were shattered when he left. I was in a total lost at that time. A guy who I depend a lot and loved most was about to leave me. I was just like a withered flower and I hate myself for being such a useless girlfriend that I could not do anything but to let the guy I love most to leave me.
Nightmare begins to start. When I start to scold and picked up quarrel with him, he gave no reaction, unlike the past when he used to treat me so good. These hurting words began to come up from his mouth, however I didn’t blame him. I just hope that he will still stay by my side. I know that whatever he did now to hurt me wasn’t going to stop me from loving him just as much.
He did promise me not to leave me but promises are meant to be broken. We then ended our relationship at 21’june’2002, an affectionate 9 months relationship.
I didn’t blame him at all, because he had done his very best to love and care for me during that period of time. I should have thanked him for being a good companion to me.
Now, he is currently living in Shang Hai to complete his studies and had a good relationship with his girlfriend, while I am still studying in my polytechnic here having no love life. I wonder if Nan didn’t leave me, will we still be together. Will we love each other like before?
There is always much possible answer for me to consider and answer, but what I know is that he is the guy who loves me the most and a guy whom I love the most. I know that even if there are chances for us to meet, I won’t want any patch back as I know he won’t want it too.
These are all the sweet childhood memories for us to think of whenever we like to recall or feel bored. Isn’t it sweet to have such lovely memories? Past is past, let bygones be bygones.
I do missed this guy and hope that he's got a good relationship with the girl he loved and have a bright future in his studies and work. I miss you Nan because you have left such a deep impression in my heart
Well, I am here to fulfill the agreement u promised me, because u did say that you are going to write out our story. So, here is our story for you. Those memories you left in my life were really good. Thank you. : )
 Sunday, June 06, 2004 at 03:04 |
44 ) - The Cell
THE CELL
It is probably fair to say that having an enemy is the the worst fear a man can encounter. All men fear something. To face the very enemy that wishes to harm you will conjure feelings like you have never felt before, a cataclysm of sensual feeling, stirred with the most horrific of sicknesses.
Staring death in the face for long enough allows the mind to bend thoughts so magnificently that the reality becomes just a dream, pain a meaningless word, and death a welcoming thought. Let me take you to the world where those who have committed the incest are readily punished for their crimes on mankind, for producing creatures that disgust our world, the creatures that are no better treated than lepers and no more remembered than the past that has never been.
Shut your eyes, blank your mind and think of nothing but the four walls of the 20ft cell you are imprisoned within. You are now about to view and watch the horror unfold.
Look to your right, you can see the damp wall seething blood through its cracks..the wall is alive and groans under the weight of misery.......As you look around the room your feelings of distaste increase,
The room is breathing and a cold rush of air bites your neck.
With the little light given from the dull flame in the corner, it takes time for your eyes to adjust. In the centre of the room four beings back to back are chained together. Their legs are pinned to the ground and hands shackled behind their backs. Already they have undergone a preliminary hearing, found guilty of their crimes and sentenced to an immediate punishment.
The prisoners have no obvious facial features, their eyes have been melted closed, their tongues have been removed..but still their senses remain in tact so their pain is maximised..the prisoners are awake, unable to talk, and unaware of their fate to come...
Let me take you now in to the mind of one of the victims...a man who has committed a torrid reign of unacceptable crimes upon his own family, someone who has butchered and defaced his own without ever committing an act of violence, his crime is his passion for sadistic abuse. His daughters, who are now the bearers and up bringers of vulgar beings, so horrible they have been disowned to a life of horrific abuse and neglect.
You are now in the body of the accused.... fusssssed.... your brain is his mind and his feelings are yours.... locked in to endure the torture. You can see nothing, but begin to feel the ´light dripping of water upon your head, it is un-troubling at first, but is now pounding, pounding, it is beginning to echo through you mind like a hammer rhythmically striking your skull, bang, bang...your head is hurting your thoughts are an array of stars. The pain is intensifying with the crashing of the water... relentlessly, relentlessly........Your skull is cracking, your mind is screeching for relief...you try to tilt you head but it is firmly clamped, you scream but your lips are sewn and your tongue is gone.......
Some hours later.....
Your ears can make out the door of the cell opening and several beings enter the room. You are now being circled, like condors gliding on a mountain range..your mind is now focused and your ears are bleeding to hear your fate.......The enemy is here and your sentence about to begin.
Fear fills the room, your fellow prisoners are struggling to understand, knowing there is no escape, nerves jolt bodies, muffled screams produce sickening visions in your mind which twist thoughts so revolting your stomach stir's, vomit is brought to your mouth, then forced back down with no where to go. You are choking, but cannot cough, you are constantly sick, coughing, choking, drowning in your bowls...your head is hammering, your ears are bleeding , the pain is no longer pain and the fear is just a feeling of normality..but the fear of death still looms..not death itself for now nothing is better than the thought of peace, but the fear of how your life is to be finalized.
Blades are sheathed, and a hand begins stroking your toes, caressing them with the finest touch, it is almost nice. The hand moves delicately up your leg, smothely stroking, gently caressing..... a nice sensation......The hand is quickly removed and replaced with the cold sharp edge of a tool, you think it is a butchers knife or an axe. This is now gently stoking the inside of your leg....crimes of incest are flashing through your mind...the day you punished your beautiful daughter, so tender, so young, so innocent..and the day she produced that monster..to think of the pain it must of felt growing up, locked in the cell, tortured from birth, for no reason but for been born. Blindfolded, gagged, bound, fed once per week, and whipped daily..that monstrous creature which i tortured so inhumanely...and now it is he who..fk..its him that is now bearing the blade, caressing my leg..oh fk its him.. punishing me....and...my.... prison colleagues, i wonder who they are..uncle sam, sister Ellen..ohhhhhfkkking helllll...may god forgive me for my horrible crimes and give me mercy...
You are now paralysed with fear, sweating, pulsating, excreting and crying, crying with no tears, screaming with no tongue...every orifice is sewn together bar your nose and ears.....your head is spinning out thoughts of distant memories..the good old days..childhood...the days of school, your first job, marriage......aghhhhh
You feel the blade stroke firmly across your left ankle marking an incision...then you hear if flute downwards..crack..now your right ankle is marked then swiftly removed...your left leg above your knee is marked..then removed...right leg above your knee..marked then removed........i feel sick...oh so sick.... The blade slowly moves to your stomach and is gently sliding away till you feel your sickness spout like a river of evil............ your bowels slither out, the length of a python wrapping themselves around your body, up to your neck, slithering, hsssss...they are asking you why???why?? Gripping tighter around your neck strangling and crushing your bones, but you can feel, smell and hear the hssssss. the snake is here, around you, looking and inspecting the alien world its entered.........
It is almost over..
And now it is time to come out of the victim...back to the cell..you can see the man laying trying to wriggle, his body a mess.....you are now transported back to your desk..
Saturday, June 05, 2004 at 13:50 |
43 ) - rwq
 "http://www.nirvana-shop.com/ref.php?id=540a3824f87d0a"
http://www.nirvana-shop.com/ref.php?id=540a3824f87d0a
Monday, May 31, 2004 at 06:28 |
42 ) - my secrets
Secrets
She doesn’t seem to realize. She doesn’t seem to know. My life, a complete utter
disaster. A dark tunnel with a big black spiral, never ending. Why am I here anyway? I
didn’t ask to be born. Then again, I don’t think anybody does.
I wake up. Same old life, same old room. I don’t know why, but every morning I wake up in hope that I’ve been magically swept off into another world. Unfortunately this has yet to happen. I awake to the fresh scent of spring pouring though my little window.
As well as the golden sunlight peering through my bright white curtains, and to the happy sounds of the tiny birds on the big oak tree next door. The entire world seems like it has a big wide smile drawn across its face, except… except for me.
I run into my bathroom where I stand, and carefully study my reflection. I focus on my figure. Slim and fit. I then draw my attention, and bring my eyes up to my face. My eyes have a mysterious look that no one can quite read other than myself. On the outside I seem as if I’m a well groomed girl that’s showered with love, and who is surrounded by friends. I look deeper searching inside of me. I can see the results smack in front of me.
I’m 15, and unhappy. I try to smile. I can feel the corners of my lips tugging at my mouth in an upwards position, but there’s no use. My mouth cracks. I hate myself.
-“Vayda” I can hear my mother’s voice. It’s drowned out by my closed bedroom door, but I know it’s her.
-“Hurry up already, you’ll be late for school”
-“Two seconds” I yell back
It’s Monday morning, and I arrive at school. I open up my locker to pictures of friends that face me. I’m flooded with memories, overwhelmed with feelings. I feel as if I’m on a roller coaster facing different emotions each new day. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a faint laugh from the distance; I turn around to see a girl my age with another two girls standing by her side. Britney has been my best friend since I was three. I used to be happy like her, but then things took a slight detour. Everything begun to come crashing down in a slow process, but eventually it all just crumbled to the ground.
-“Hey you!” she shoots me a smile
-“Hi” I say back in a not so excited voice.
-“What’s been going on lately, you don’t seem like yourself.”
My mind races. LATELY?! LATELY?! What’s wrong with this girl? Just because
I’m not joyfully amused, and perky every second of the day does not mean there’s something wrong with me!
-“Nothing” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders.
I flash her a look. She knows she’s hit a nerve. I quickly turn on my heel. Halfway down the hallway I realize it is a Friday, and I have the entire weekend to look forward to. Week-ends are my favorites. (Unlike all the other kids my age that look forward to them. Mostly because they get to spend the nights staying out late, and being with their friends. I like them because I spend the entire 48 hours sleeping.) Sleeping is when you lose the most weight you know. I decide to leave school. There’s nothing here for me anyhow.
I find myself back in my bedroom. I fall fast asleep. Unfortunately a few hours later I awake to the sound of the key going through the door, and realize my mother is home. I lie awake in bed. I feel my eyes begin to flood with water. They start to sting as tears trickle down the sides of my cheeks. I quickly rub them away. Crying is for babies. I fall asleep again. I sleep for what seems to be eternity. I dream. Lovely dreams. My dreams are the only place I can escape to. That’s why I love them so, but like everything else they come to a dead stop too soon. I get up from my bed, and walk over to my bathroom. I sit down on the cold tile floor where I kneel over the toilet bowl. Thirty-seconds later, and I’m done. “There” I tell myself. “That’s just what I needed”. Before getting up I lean against the wall, I let my head fall into my lap. I decide I’m going to make myself throw-up once more, that way I’ll feel refreshed, and know that whatever I ate that day is now out of my system. I will never dare go more than three days without completely throwing up my meals. Next thing you know and I’ll look like all my other friends. Besides it’s the only goddamn way I can find a smile across my face anymore.
-“Vayda” I hear her saying once more.
-“What is it?” I scream back with an annoyed voice.
-“Let’s go, get in the car”
-“No thanks, I’m comfortable where I am”
-“If I have to ask once more than your father will be receiving a nice little call from
me tonight”
I hate that. [Whenever something comes up, and I don’t feel like doing it, which is most things.] She always manages to threaten me in order to get me to do them. What makes the situations more ironic is that they always involve the same old threat. “Your father will be receiving a nice little call from me tonight”. She’ll say. Always the same old thing. Yet I never let it pass me by. The truth is, I’m scared shitless of my father. You see, my parents divorced when I was around three, so I don’t see much of him, but he’s a big old guy who I admire very much, very intelligent, but mainly just a lot of talk.
Still…I like him to think of me as his perfect little angel that he never has to worry about.
-“Vayda”? She yells one more
-“IM COMING” Fuck! She’s annoying. I don’t hate her. I loathe her. Why can’t she just let me be?
I can tell she sensed my annoyance, because her tone has now changed into a much non-caring talk.
We drive for miles, and miles. After about twenty minutes of awkwardness in silence I break the ice when I dare to ask:
-“Where are we going?”
-“You’ll see”
Her voice is soft, and subtle. I hate when she plays these games with me. I can tell they amuse her just by the expression she's wearing on her face. What the hell is this women’s problem? Who finds pleasure in torturing a daughter? She’s sick I tell you. Whacked in the head, if there’s such a thing. She pulls up the car towards a tall building. Glass windows with a charcoal finish cover the entire exterior. The sort of place that makes you feel uncomfortable when you walk inside. Especially when you don’t know what you’re there for. For some odd reason she has a smirk on her face. Once again, the sick twisted mother is taking over. So I ask her again:
-“Why are we here anyway?”
-“We’re here for you”
As she says that I get an instant picture of the Grinch, and his big wide smile. You know the one that takes up his entire face? Just when he realizes he’s going to steal Christmas. Why do you ask this? Well I’ll tell you, at that exact moment, my mother, and the Grinch were one.
WAIT. (Did she just say for me?) I stop dead in my tracks. My head suddenly feels very heavy, and I feel faint, my mind flies back and forth with all sorts of horrid ideas that don’t make any sense whatsoever. She found out about the time I took ecstasy. She knows I’ve been skipping school. She heard I wasn’t going to my tutoring lessons. I manage to regain my “cool” and follow her into the office. I walk in through the door noticing the name printed across it.
“D-r. Z-y-l-b-e-r-g-o-l-d” I read. It takes me a few tries, but I finally get the pronunciation right.
Dr. Zylbergold? Dr. Zylbergold? What the hell could I possibly be doing in somebody’s office entitled Dr. Zylbergold? I begin to experience stomach pains so I take a seat. I notice a hole in the evergreen covered fabric seats. Normally this sort of thing would have bothered me, because I’m very weird with this type of stuff, but I don’t budge. Instead I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I look up to see a middle aged woman glancing back at me. I sense she’s nice. I soon realize her hand is in front of me signaling me to shake it. She smiles. A heart warmed smile the kind that reassures you. Yet I don’t fall for it. She’s phony, and she’s just doing her job in order to get paid. I hate phony people, they make me sick.
-“Let’s talk” I hear her say.
I suddenly recognize what’s happening. How could I have been so stupid? I’m in a bloody psychiatrist’s office. I don’t understand. Why did she bring me here? Is she insane? Psychiatrists are for people who are ill, and depressed…who need someone to talk to. To deal, and solve their problems with!
-“Vayda?” I hear her voice echoing at the back of my head.
-“Uh yeah?” I manage to stutter back.
-“Perhaps we could step into my office.”
I shoot my mother the dirtiest look as the doctor guides me into a rather large room. I notice my mother’s eyebrow raise, but she doesn’t say a word. The office is different than any you can imagine. The walls are orange, and the chairs are opaque white. I let my eyes wander around. They come across a long white sofa that’s almost in the shape of a dentist’s chair, but without all the gadgets surrounding it.
-“So” she says
-“Tell me about school” she begins.
I don’t like sharing my personal life with anyone but my diary. My diary is my confider, and the only one I can tell my problems to as well as can trust. It holds all my inner feelings inside. It’s basically my life written out on paper…WAIT…Problems?
Oh my God. I guess I was trying to hide it from myself. I’ve been so blind. Perhaps not that I’ve been blind I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to face it, and while everybody else did I held back. I feel myself breathing harder, and notice the doctor is studying me carefully. This type of thing really bothers me. Mostly, because she’s just some phony doctor, and second, because she’s putting on this act, as if she’s trying really hard to look as if she cares.
-“Vayda? Are you with me?” I can hear her saying.
I don’t dare to move. Instead I ignore her and move my eyes around some more. There’s an entire wall on one side of the room that’s just glass. In other words, it’s like staring at a giant mirror. I stare at it, and my reflection stares straight back at me. It’s been a while since I last studied myself. I take a deeper look this time. The only difference is, last time
I had to look inside my soul so see my inner sad thoughts. This time the answer is staring straight back at me. My hair is greasy, and looks like it hasn’t been washed in days. My face is thinner than ever, and I have the biggest purple rings under my eyes. From over sleeping. My body appears to be screaming for food, and my legs look like they’re two limbs that are going to fall right off of me, if I take a step too hard. I stare back at the psychiatrist realizing I’ve been ignoring her all this time.
-“I’m sorry” I say as I show an apologetic look. It’s not like me to be so spaced out
like this.”
I realize that she’s been sitting patiently with me all this time, and maybe the reason why I am here is because I have people that love me, and that are worried about me. I glance back at her, and study her carefully. She truly is beautiful. The type of person I can see myself talk to.
-“Is everything ok?” she asks
-“Everything’s fine. I think I’m ok now”
-“Shall we begin then?”
-“Definitely”
The End
Monday, May 24, 2004 at 14:50 |
41 ) - One Month Away from Homelessness
My name is Georgeann Carter and I am a 46 year old woman, single parent mother of 19 year old twins boy/girl. I have always worked to support my children and myself after the desertion of their father in 1990 when they were five years old. I had a lot of support from my parents that helped us stay afloat when times got financially diffucult.
In 1999, my mother died of complications from kidney failure and my children and myself had to move in with my dad and take care of him with assistance until her died on July 26, 2003, of lung, liver and brain cancer. My children provided the majority of his care because
I became disabled and had to quite my job as a daycare administrator.
Both of my parents died and only have burial insurance with nothing left but a home with a home equity loan balance of $58,000. I am the executor of the will but can't afford to pay an attorney $3000 to go through the probate process for my dad's house he willed to me. My daughter is finishing up her first year in college and my son is looking for work to help out. My monthly expenses are $1100 a month and my income is $609. The house is handicap assessable and I do not want to lose this house or for my family to become homeless.
Anything anyone can do will be greatly appreciated. I also welcome any advise anyone can offer. I hope my story is understandable and I can provide verification on everything I mentioned. I'm registered at paypal.com and my email address is Georgie628@aol.com. Thank you!
Georgeann
Friday, May 21, 2004 at 22:03 |
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