Chloie writes a personal-diary style blog over at Orchestrated Destiny. She is unbelievably candid about what is happening in her world. When I first started reading she was engaged to be married sorting through the wedding preparations and the prospect of moving in with her partner. Life has been as fickle as it's known to be, handing her the great moments and the curveballs.Chloie has celebrated and dealt with each one in her own way. She has shared some of the toughest moments, some of the cutest and the life changing. It's not every day you come across someone like her. Make sure you check out her blog.
This post is a lesson that we will all learn, one day.
"He used to be your world. He used to be the guy whose smile makes your inexperienced, young heart skip a beat, and whose touch and kisses made you feel alive. He was the one who, for the first time showed you the world in a different light, and made you feel so beautiful inside and out. He was the one who used to give you excitement in waiting for the phone to ring or for the doorbell to make its sweet dingdong sound. He was the one who calmed you after a strenuous exam, and made you feel that seeing him after class was the focal point of your day.
Being with him made your young heart happy beyond belief, and you thought it would last forever.
But then one day, he did the unthinkable.
He went to a bar during an out-of-state conference, got drunk and indulged in a one-night stand.
When you found out, you were devastated. It felt as though your heart was broken into a million pieces, and your whole world came crashing down. The pain cut so deep you felt like dying inside.
He begged you to forgive him - it was a drunken mistake that he promised never, ever again- and, though, in your heart you badly wanted to, you knew you could never trust him again. He broke the trust you have innocently and wholeheartedly given and there was no way to regain it. So even though he pleaded for days saying he loved you very much, you said goodbye and walked away.
For weeks, you wallowed in misery and shed buckets of tears. You questioned how God could allow you to go through such pain, how would you survive and would you ever fall in love again. Not a day go by that you didn't miss him. He was the first thought that comes through your mind when you wake up in the morning, and he was your last thought before you fall asleep. It hurt just thinking you'll never see him again, yet somehow you tried to be strong.
Gradually, the pain subsided. You thought less and less of him, until one day, you realized several days had gone by without him crossing your mind. You'd go to a place the two of you used to frequent and feel no more ache. You'd even date new guys and don't compare them to him anymore. You no longer jump when the phone rings wishing it would be him yet at the same time hoping it wasn't. You used to wanna cry whenever you hear a song or smell a perfume that reminds you of him, yet now, you feel nothing.
And that's when you knew.. you're finally and completely over him.
This is the story of my first love. Lesson learned: Time heals all wounds... regardless of how you feel right now. "
Chloie x
12 November 2009
11 November 2009
Sleep
That sudden start + the realisation
the cosy spot you lose, rolling over
Blankets pulled higher
knees tucked in
One eye open, praying it's early
Just to roll over once more
Sprawling out, curling in, avoiding that moment
Praying it's late + you've slept through
Praying it's late + you've slept through
The radio noise, infiltrating sleep + dream
Glances at red glowing numbers, fuzzy
Rolling over, curling up, eyes close
Back to sleep, just once more
B x
10 November 2009
The Tough People
You know those people you just *dread* buying gifts for at Christmas? They either have everything, or you don't know them well enough to know what they'd like.
Here are a few ideas under $25.
for those crafty types we all envy.
maybe you could hint to your man about this one ;)
Merry Christmas to you too right?
for the Secret Santa you chose that loves a good coffee
For that skater chick that leaves you stuck for ideas.
09 November 2009
Cute Gift Ideas
When I signed up to Etsy all those months ago I clicked a box that said "Give me daily emails". Generally I make sure these are unchecked as they fill your mailbox fast. However, I must have missed it and I'm very glad I did! Each day I get an email filled with various treats and treasures. Some I think are fantastic, some don't interest me at all.
The one thing I love about them all though, is their uniqueness. Etsy provides a place for just about anything to be sold, it's a great place to find those quaint things you won't find in stores. Coming up to Christmas, I would advise you check it out. Your friends and family will be very impressed!
Here are some of the things I came across recently....
The one thing I love about them all though, is their uniqueness. Etsy provides a place for just about anything to be sold, it's a great place to find those quaint things you won't find in stores. Coming up to Christmas, I would advise you check it out. Your friends and family will be very impressed!
Here are some of the things I came across recently....
Jewelry, art, business cards,calling cards,Christmas cards, clothes, costumes, candles, accessories, shoes, bags, wallets, handmade or vintage.
It's all there, you're guaranteed to find something totally unique AND within your budget.
It's all there, you're guaranteed to find something totally unique AND within your budget.
08 November 2009
Blinding
This is another one of those songs that perfectly seems to sum up how I'm feeling. I was listening to it on Wednesday as I had a little emotional *blah* to a very close friend. I realised the sound of it, her tone, the sounds of the words, as well as the lyrics themselves, the whole thing came together to paint a picture, to paint the emotion I couldn't seem to grasp. A lot of her songs are like that.
Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state
A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
Until I realise that it was you who held me under
Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids
Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack
All around the world was waking, I never could go back
Cos all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open
And finally it seemed that the spell was broken
And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open
And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
Snow White's stitching up the circuitboards
Silence slipping through the hidden door
Snow White's stitching up your circuitboard
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
Snow White's stitching up the circuitboards
Silence slipping through the hidden door
Snow White's stitching up your circuitboard
Silence slipping through the hidden door
06 November 2009
Islands
My new favourite song.
I don't have to leave anymore
What I have is right here
Spend my nights and days before
Searching the world for what's right here
Underneath and unexplored
Islands and cities I have looked
Here I saw
Something I couldn't over look
I am yours now
So now I don't ever have to leave
I've been found out
So now I'll never explore
See what I've done
That bridge is on fire
Going back to where I've been
I'm froze by desire
No need to leave
Where would I be
If this were to go under
It's a risk I'd take
I'm froze by desire
As if a choice I'd make
I am yours now
So now I don't ever have to leave
I've been found out
So now I'll never explore
So now I'll never explore
05 November 2009
Lovers' Diary - Iffah
Iffah emailed me the other day with this post. I love it. There will be something you can identify with, the anticipation, the fear, the rush of adrenaline, the simplicity, the fingertips, the memories. This is a fantastic post and I strongly advise you also go check out her blog, Like Animals Do. It's an amazing concoction of life. Her tumblr, Live Dance Fight Unicorn, is also brilliant for those of you that follow and reblog. Feel free to email me with your own entry into this diary. I'd really like you to. Bambola x
Detached from cynics and people with the Half Empty Glass, Love, for most of us, paints a picture so intricately stunning, that even when you immerse yourself in the painfully crafted swirls of its detail, your mind refuses to throw out the big picture. So within you, the concept is inevitably ingrained.
In these details, in the small cracks, there are mix tapes and involuntary smiling. Lip chewing and flowers. Submission and the Beatles. Shyly written professions in blue crayons broken in half on heart shaped cards. Tediously orchestrated phone calls/texts that “whoops. wasn’t meant for You”. And a rush. Completely unaided by sugar, but convincing as a whole-body endorphin invasion.
Our fingers then trace the bigger carvings and find eyelashes tickling your neck and hot breaths in the form of How Beautiful You Look Tonight. Getting tangled up in fairylights and kissing for the first time. Pulling each other beneath the water surface and kissing for the second, third and forth time. Turning off the television and pushing the couch to the window to watch the day come and go. Breathing in the smell of grass, mud and her hair on your shirt after being on your backs the whole day and pointing to parts of the sky you wanted to build your castle. Cradling your head in the curve of his neck and shoulder and being surprised at the perfect fit. Quietly discovering scars, cuts and moles on each other and with your fingers draw imaginary lines that join them, forming a constellation on her back. Taking the bus to nowhere just to sit by the window and watch how the sun hits his face in inconsistent pulses that you eventually see a rhythm in. Spending a whole day sitting across from each other playing Who Speaks First Loses and you both say each other’s name at the same time and call yourself winners. Dancing to the deafening hum of silence. Drawing hearts around individual letters in her favourite book so that they spell out To Me, You Are Perfect because you know she reads that book everytime she needs time off from the world. Believing in unicorns. And living, dancing, fighting together.
And like any other work of perfection, the bitter hearts make a mission out of picking out the mistakes. Damp pillows and hollow stomachs. Compulsiveness. Territory markings. Ugly nights spent drowned in an overwhelming missing and drinks that are not Soda Pop, not OJ, not the clear fluid running from the taps. And the one perforation on the left side of your chest that is in the exact shape of your heart, just barely curtained by your hair that drapes long and low because you hang your head.
But we know better than that. We know that behind every exquisite thing that exists, there has to be something tragic. I think tragedies are reminders. Little stabs once in a while to keep us from forgetting that what we will always have is something larger than anything else. It will be all you need.
Iffah x
Detached from cynics and people with the Half Empty Glass, Love, for most of us, paints a picture so intricately stunning, that even when you immerse yourself in the painfully crafted swirls of its detail, your mind refuses to throw out the big picture. So within you, the concept is inevitably ingrained.
In these details, in the small cracks, there are mix tapes and involuntary smiling. Lip chewing and flowers. Submission and the Beatles. Shyly written professions in blue crayons broken in half on heart shaped cards. Tediously orchestrated phone calls/texts that “whoops. wasn’t meant for You”. And a rush. Completely unaided by sugar, but convincing as a whole-body endorphin invasion.
Our fingers then trace the bigger carvings and find eyelashes tickling your neck and hot breaths in the form of How Beautiful You Look Tonight. Getting tangled up in fairylights and kissing for the first time. Pulling each other beneath the water surface and kissing for the second, third and forth time. Turning off the television and pushing the couch to the window to watch the day come and go. Breathing in the smell of grass, mud and her hair on your shirt after being on your backs the whole day and pointing to parts of the sky you wanted to build your castle. Cradling your head in the curve of his neck and shoulder and being surprised at the perfect fit. Quietly discovering scars, cuts and moles on each other and with your fingers draw imaginary lines that join them, forming a constellation on her back. Taking the bus to nowhere just to sit by the window and watch how the sun hits his face in inconsistent pulses that you eventually see a rhythm in. Spending a whole day sitting across from each other playing Who Speaks First Loses and you both say each other’s name at the same time and call yourself winners. Dancing to the deafening hum of silence. Drawing hearts around individual letters in her favourite book so that they spell out To Me, You Are Perfect because you know she reads that book everytime she needs time off from the world. Believing in unicorns. And living, dancing, fighting together.
And like any other work of perfection, the bitter hearts make a mission out of picking out the mistakes. Damp pillows and hollow stomachs. Compulsiveness. Territory markings. Ugly nights spent drowned in an overwhelming missing and drinks that are not Soda Pop, not OJ, not the clear fluid running from the taps. And the one perforation on the left side of your chest that is in the exact shape of your heart, just barely curtained by your hair that drapes long and low because you hang your head.
But we know better than that. We know that behind every exquisite thing that exists, there has to be something tragic. I think tragedies are reminders. Little stabs once in a while to keep us from forgetting that what we will always have is something larger than anything else. It will be all you need.
Iffah x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
