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LORA


"I'm not a born actress, as such, I care about expressing feelings." -Audrey Hepburn

Many times I care too much about feelings and feelings make up my whole world for me. It makes me wonder whether the world I'm living in is the real one. Cause I feel surreal in my own delusion more than anywhere else.


desires

I want to play a grand piano on some gorgeous stage with a million audience.
I want to learn as many instruments as possible; saxophone will be next.
I want to dive in a swimming pool-sized of chocolate fondue.
I want a field flooded with orange daisies.
I want to teleport to Berklee!
I want a library of books with classics, and very very very extremely good books & novels.
I want to own a home movie theatre with my very own ice cream fridge.
I want to direct my own gore movie and write my own gore novel. (this is thrilling.)
I want to get married to some rich guy and be a tai tai. HAH.

Contact me.

@ lolalimlumlabe_92@hotmail.com

clicks

Adina Amanda Amethyst Chenchen Esthergoh Estherlee Fionalim Gladys Jono Kennethleow Rachel Yijun Yuhong

ARCHIVES

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Credits

PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE % Pictures: Photobucket
% Brushes/Fonts: Henri Eshita
% designer: Weannz
% Basecode: Weannz

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Hi, it's the midnight ghost again. I like how it feels when everyone else is sleeping like a dead log while I wake up right smack in the middle of the night. Not exactly night time cause it's 3am now. I like how it feels as if I'm waiting for everyone to wake up, and watch 'em get busy and leave the house for work, for school. But I guess I'm only granted this luxury because I'm in the midst of my exams and most of my papers are thankfully in the afternoon.

My blogging vibes are back. By translating my thoughts into words makes my world and problems look less consuming.

"Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantments for truth." - Jean-Paul Sartre

The world is not filled with hope. It's us, human that are filled with hope. That makes everyone delusional in their own ways. We hope too much, and that's why we get depressed. And somehow when we bump into incidences that coincide with what we hope for, we turn them into miracles. But what if these so called miracles are mere coincidences? And what if miracles do not exist? We ledge onto these instances of coincidence and try in any possible means to tweak 'em to satisfy that hopeful heart of ours, but I call it delusions.

And maybe I'm being cynical. But I think you are in a mirage of your own.

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