"Love", you all think that is a stupid lame word when you look at it. Okay fine, if you find it stupid, then how come it can't be described? Mmm, let me give it a shot, it's a mixture of outrageous emotions left out to dry under the cruel, dry, depressing, harsh rays of the sun. People fall in love all around the world with each other, but for my case if i want to love someone I'm going to be "rising with love" because i haven't been raised with love. I have been raised with "ettiquette" so my love level is really low that's why i RISE. And since "I rise with love", my love is obviously different than anyone's. It's hell and heaven. It's rain and sunshine. It's black and white. It's fragike as glass and indestructive like steel. Time had stabbed me in the back so deep with its knife, it crossed my vertebral column deep to my spinal cord. If I can only retrieve it back, if it can only beg for my trust again because I am not going to give it back to it before it appologizes to me. Ooh, that would empower and nourish me with strength, sinew, and positive energy, it would purify me from despair, heartsickness, and blue devils. I'll shove this scrap of imagination away, and you, put what i just said aside untill i notify you. For the past years, I was eaten off by the fire of agony and mournfulness. I used to sense just what a fire senses when the coldhearted rain attacks it vigorously aiming only one thing TO DESTROY THAT FIRE, that fire that was keeping the frozen people warm, alive, and joyful, the fire that children circled around it chanting happy tunes that made all the cells of any human being dance tingling their medium,that wicked rain... You might not have understood what I just said, in other simple words: I'm heartbroken. I used to be an innocent young girl wandering around dying to experience a glimpse of love. And i found him... And oh how I found him... no not on a white pony, but robbing my daddy's bank. Here my journal explains it all.
