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♥ precious.
la bella vita;

Cara

loves: black and white photography. poetry. vintage stores. thunderstorms. good ambience. fairytales. disneyworld. black kohl and fuschia lipstick. red and purple skittles. turquoise beads. icing but not cakes. might-have-beens. the dandy warhols. within temptation. automatic loveletter. mediaeval baebes. troy. interview with a vampire. the oc. making 11:11 wishes. purple glitter. mermaids. my-little-ponies. magic.

expertise: melodramaticks. eyeliner. laughing. goodbyes. hanging in there.

♥ music on, world off.
shh.

soundtrack to life.

♥ scream(?).
live.

♥ past .
instant time travel

December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010

♥ adieu .
set them free

AMANDA
ANDRE
ASH
DEB
ELEMM
07IP04!
08IP04!
JOSH
KAT
LISA
QIU
RENJEAN


♥ credits .
thankyouverymuch

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Wednesday, October 29, 2008
hello, old friend. 6:41 AM



HELLO TAGBOARD ARE YOU DEAD.
I'm srsly starting to doubt that people actually read this Guzzler of Precious Internet Megabytes but whatever. Hello Cara you're talking to yourself.
This could be the start of worse thingsssss, Preciousssss.

Okay so lately I have been treading in/out/in/out of my Semi Newfound Life and I'm not quite sure if I like it. I think I do.
I just wish people would stop judging me-- I see your faces when you guys look at me and I hear your nasty little catty comments and I know what you're thinking and sometimes it takes all I've got not to grab fistfuls of your hair and scream in your faces "GO AHEAD JUDGE ME I DARE YOU TO JUDGE ME I DARE YOU"
Maybe before you start whispering behind my back (and don't think I can't hear because I've got lovely oversized elf ears and yes I can hear you loud and clear, honey, speakers're on) you should take a look at yourselves
and maybe I'm flawed
and maybe I'm spiralling
but maybe I'm just being sixteen
and maybe if you could take the microscope off me you would see how dull and suburban and plain-paper-prissy your lives are
(will anyone remember your name? will anyone remember your name?)
and what it all comes down to? is that
i'll have the lights the city heartbeat the rollercoaster romances the wrinkles on the palms of strangers i met on the street the tragedies the technicolour rrrrushes
and you?
you'll have Lavender Monet walls and a white picket fence
nice lawn, nice husband, nice kids, nice paycheck, nice nice nice, yes,
and you'll die in nice shackles, sweetheart.


another thing.
lately I've realized that everyone I know is pretty screwed up.
No offence. I mean- God knows I'm not the epitome of Flawlessness, either.
But I've realized that everyone I know has at least one terrible, terrible secret that would rend your soul if you heard it and it makes me sad, what this generation is coming to;
our hearts are breaking but MTV's turned on too loud for anyone to hear.

And if you're out there,
any of you, every one of you,
if you're out there and you're hurting (and i know you are):

I just want you to know that I know.
I know how it hurts so badly that you lie on the bathroom tiles and cradle your head in your hands but all your tears dried up long ago
I know how hard it is to pull away because it/they/he/she keeps pulling you back in for more and your head is screaming no but being a teenager, every other part of you screams yes, yes, yes
I know how the scars never seem to heal because every time you move, the stitches tear apart all over again
I know how something as simple as seeing rain fall or hearing a song over the radio or revisiting an old memory can make you drop everything and cry like a baby
I know I know I know I know

and I want you to know, most of all, that I love all of you.

And I wish I could be there right beside every single one of you
because tonight when you lie in your empty bed staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of everything
because when darkness comes and you're wide awake and short of breath because you know with the night comes the loneliness and you're weak and you're tired of fighting and you're terrified,
I'd go down on my knees beside your bed and cradle each of you in my arms and wipe your runny nose with Kleenex and stroke your hair while you grieve and tell you "it's going to be okay"
because it is.
and you're going to have to believe that.

and I'd stay with you all through the night
just stroking your hair and rocking you back and forth and hugging you
and waiting for the morning
and I'd lift your fringe from your face and tell you "...a new day is going to come"
because it will.
and you and me?
we're going to have to believe that.