*))
~i'll be coming home just to be alone~
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aaaaw, omg. i love three days grace :3 i know i know, my standards of writing frequently are a bit sucky and stubborn, lol. wth. i dun have any deep thought to share right now. other then that, i'm pretty much feelin neat. skool's fine, just fine. ana marija is a 'frutek'. but that's okay, so is anta XD biology test...omg, you have no idea what we do to this poor woman. ahahahahahahaha. my head hurts from dreamin. i'm droolin on the keyboard. lolz. |
- 11:09 - ~feels like tragedy~ (9) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
_slip out the back before they know you were there_
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yes. moj prvi post na hrvatskom. od 82 prijašnja postova na engleskom. ne znam. jednostavno mi je došlo da malo na hrvatskom nešto napišem. danas sam spokojna. inaće ne bih. inaće zaista ne bih. i badave mi 4 iz hrvatskog ako ne želim ovdje ostati. ma kakva četvorka. trojka, najbolje. kad pišem na hrvatskom, uvijek je drukčije. nisam ja. nisam uopće. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ne osjećam se loše. štoviše. osjećam se sjajno. sretna sam. mislim. nemam razloga biti u nekoj depresiji. kako mrzim tu riječ. nisam. eto. nisam ja tkana da budem u depresiji. volim kad sam sretna. zaista volim. ono što me rly uveseljava je 1.b ise, znam da zvuči nevjerojatno cheezy. al volim. nekako volim biti uz njih. volim se zezat s njima. i volim piti Cherry Bang i davat ljudima guc. zašto ne? uostalom, volim neobičnost. cijenim neobičnost kod drugih ljudi. why not, indeed?  ovo je skroz nepovezano s prijašnjim postovima. ovako na hrvatskom se osjećam nekak staloženije. realističnije. i ponekad bih pisala riječi na hrvatskom. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- geez. 15 do 1. moram u školu, do škole pa natrag kući. il gdje već živim. u stanu. da. u stanu sa staklenim zidovima. na bračnom krevetu. i zidovi će biti pošarani i prošarani. jer ja tako volim. ja volim svoje zidove našarane. doista. i nakon škole, tamo kod kuće, pod hladan tuš i bez ručnika do ormara. u mokru odjeću pa sa školskom torbom na leđima, novcem po džepovima i mokrom kosom na bus za Veliku Goricu. da. jer ja tako želim. i srest ću Luciju. i idem u Močvaru. plesat do tri ujutro. na taksi koji je stao na mostu i čeka samo nas. pa s Lucijom i Ivonom ako se predomisli, do Velike Gorice opet. i nema sna, ne ne. nema šanse. i ako budem legla na kauč ili pod, gledat ću, ne, zurit ću nepomično u strop. nema misli, samo zurim. šutim, il pričam. briga me. dođem u 3 pred kuću. taksi stane i vadimo novce iz džepova. i dođemo u njenu kuću, a rulja na podu, pjeva i smije se. s gitarom. i ako zapjevaju Kumbaia, prerezat ću ih grkljane :D ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  |
- 12:34 - ~feels like tragedy~ (14) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
_murder on the daaaaance floor!_aka_panick! at the disco!!_
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i went to Mochvara yesterday. going to a disco the day after a murder is a thrill ride. and i got a crapload of poetic thoughts. and i decided to write a story about it. and a story about the slaughtery house i dreamt about. and i'm gonna call it 'Chucky and the Meat Factory' :D  so, yesh. i'm tired. i think i'll write that story now. |
- 15:53 - ~feels like tragedy~ (3) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
x: She said she's no good with words but I'm worse :x
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baaaaack with neeeeews!! okeedokee. firstly... I'm sick  i mean, not sick-sick. i was sick-sick a couple of days ago. I went to Mochvara and i was all spinny. and i drank only what...a juice vodka and a breezer??? ----naw, it's not the booze, it's the heat. +_+ i'll be back in skool tomorrow, tho i don't rly miss going to it, just my super class and goofing around, lol.  and... Valentine's day whassup with that? not in love, currently. i mean, dunno. maybe i am. depends....depends... i'm not lonely lately. nope. no-sir-ee I do have someone, tho. But i don't think that reely counts. if you get my point...eeeh...yes. Love's okay, love's good, love's great. but it's all so...commercialized. I dunno if i should go to the english lesson todaye. I'm still sick and bed restrained. if it weren't for the tests, i wouldn't go to skool tomorrow. and tomorrow is ***VALENTINE'S DAY*** holy mother of cows.  Foof. I sure as hell ain't gonna die a virgin.  Oh, yes. i was about to write about my little venture at the comic shop a couple of weeks a ago. maybe a month has passed or so. I asked the clerk the Tim Burton poetry book. and he was like...'dude...Tim Burton, dude. I'll have to see if it's in stock.' 'what are you...stupid?? you dunno if you have the Tim Burton book?? Aren't you like, supposed to be telepathically connected to Tim Burton's artwork?' 'yeah, well...you were born 15 years too late, kid!!' asshole. but he ordered The Book, so i guess that's okae. muahahahaha  and anothet thing i'm so worked up about...THE PHANTOM OF THE KLASIČNA :3 okay okay, so i made up the name... but it's the reel deel. THE MASKENBAL?? YES, YES...The Ball under The Masks. I worked my sick ass off to make the goddamn posters so you better appriciate them, people. or should i say...Klasičari. we so kick 16. gimnazija's slimy asses. woohoo.   my head hurts. i think i'll go lie down somewhere... |
- 15:26 - ~feels like tragedy~ (16) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~Once more, Misery is a Butterfly~
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i wrote 8o posts already. lol. i know i know, i haven't written a goddamn thing in ages, but there it is. there this is. yes. yes. sooo, i've been wrapped up in skool and math and i was busy watching cartoons. cartoons, bastards. i love my cartoons. and as you may or may not notice, i have redesigned teh bloggie. so you wouldn't call me lazy. and i shall be, of course, revisting all your poor blogs so i can finally comment on how kool i am and how lazy i was. so, yah. okeedokee. okay, so i wanted to take a few shots of my evil master chamber, and i happened to crop them to fit the screen, so...taaa-daaah! :3   oh, yes. be very very jealous. envy me. obey me, muahahahaha. fuckers, fuck salad fingers. pork. (i was gonna write 'porn' but i like 'pork' just as much Oo) okay, enough with the photoshoot. what's new, you ask me? huh? is that what ure asking? is it? **i got mice. twice. those goddamned mice. pesky lil beings. but cute, tho. rly cute. LIL WHITE LAB MICE. DARN I'MMA RACIST x3 i'll take pics of them, prolly. dunno. depends on my mood. ~~~~~~~ |
- 16:51 - ~feels like tragedy~ (9) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
yaaaaaaah :3
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- 17:20 - ~feels like tragedy~ (18) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~dissection crimson towers~
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the deeper you stick it in your vein, the deeper the thoughts... there is no more pain. aside the point, i rly love this sentence. because it's true. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx hmm...today i'm going away to Poland until sunday. taking the night bus to Krakow. i need headsets. without them, i'm screwed. pulling an all-nighter is tough enough with TBS and AFI. not to mention Danny Elfman <3 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Excusez-moi, je suis un retard. she said to herself for the tenth time that hour. and she went of babbling until he came and sat next to her. without her even convincing him to do so. it brought her to peace to see him by her side. even though, of her emotions, she did not know how he felt. and in love and death, she felt the same. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Halloween. Halloween. Halloween. sometimes i just wanna stab myself to sleep without him. and the pillows take his place at night. the pillows took his place tonight.  if you could see aside the tearing of the skin, and the tearing of my eyes. i think i'll go lie on the floor for a while, and listen to divine interventions until my ears can take it no longer and i fall back to sleep with the image of you beside me crawling to your wormhole like you always do. but this time, it's just me and you crawling sideways like fat juicy maggots that we are. that i am. that you are and will never ever be apart. a slimy rotten excuse for a life they gave us, we will spend it all on love tonight and wake up tomorrow morning, with open wounds sore and burning. we will wake up with a price to pay tomorrow, because our makeshift, make-belive romance was given to us yesterday. and the day before that. ...and the night before that. |
- 12:53 - ~feels like tragedy~ (22) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~I stabbed Jack the Ripper.~
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For the last few days, i felt literally on a emotion rollercoatser. overwhelmed with everything about me and whatnot. i'm an emo addict, i luff it and breathe it, and if you woke me up in the middle of the night, you'd probably get an honest answer on wether or not AFI's song This Time Imperfect (which i found one of the most appropriate examples in this post, rly. that, and the song from 3 Doors Down called I Hate Everything About You) is about the productivity of pure hatred or love. and i agree on both answers. so, anyway. having one of them Deep Moments thing as i'm suffering from a nasty frikken cold and waiting for my friend to call me up and takes me to teh pictures this evening. other then that, i rly do not know what to do with my life from now on. I'm addicted to online purchases of emo band t-shirts, emily strange gloves, invader zim shirts and teh Dresden Dolls hoodies. notice i only have liek, $5o to buy me something pretty that'll boost my self-confidence up on french lessons and prolly make me ache over and kiss mr. B. prolly. There is something wrong with the air today. There's something wrong with time. Currently playing a Billy Talent song...later on something more emo.  God, i need updates. |
- 17:54 - ~feels like tragedy~ (13) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~teh attention just encourages 'er.~
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"I fell downstairs again, scaripng my knees this time. the pain was stingy and numbing, and it seemes as if i could barely make a move without a twist of the same aching feeling running up and down my body. and when i walked, i walked slowly, like a stupid child or a rag puppet on a string. and the smell...i could not get rid of that horrid smell. and even though i had bathed three times the prior morning, the smell would not go away. it was obnoxious, like bee stuck to a puddle of honey, only the bee would eventually give up. but that smell...it did not seem to go away nor did it ever seem that it would go away. i bathed twice this time, brushing my bare skin until it was bloody red and there was pieces of my skin and dried blood under my finger nails. but, it was on my skin already. and it would not be any better. the truth was, for now i could see it.... my body was decaying. i lost a movement in my left arm once this hour, but it had twitched and raggeled until i could feel it again. and as i was brushing my hair, the long black fringes feel like a spider web onto my hand. i dropped the hair brush and scurried upstairs. i was losig my hair. soon it began to show on my face that i am now not among the living. but nor am i dead. the widow Mannequinn had given me a knife used to open letters with, with a narrow blade. and thus the blade i had to carve my own heart out and lay it softly in a jar of liquid and dirt, upon which, the still surface, there floated a dead fly. hours to come. i looked at the widow Mannequinn for a long time that day. and it seemed that, no matter how hard i tried to disobey my thoughts, whilst looking upon my refection, i noticed that the widow, just as i myself, has the eyes of a dead man. a corpse, a kadavra. and i was not still and adjusted to be seen with the eyes of a dead man. little alone, my own pair of dead eyes staring right back at me in my reflection. the blade she gave me, the thin long blade, i was now staring at my dead eyes once more, looking at the glassy surface the blade had, shimmering a silvery light. she repeated herself, i remember. i was to carve my own heart out. push the knife inside of me and take my own heart into my hand. i would not feel anything, not to worry, she said. but, with my dead heart, the same feeling of guilt that cradeled me to sleep at nights when i was still alive, was burried deep inside. and i could not get rid of it. it ate me like the maggots eat me. i said i would not do it, i would not bid her the request, it seemed appauling and a ghoul of an offer. she stated the facts, she granted me a new life, she granted me a chance to retaliate for what He did to me, and she gave me a roof to hide underneath. she kept eyes away from me. and true, i did not complain, i endured into the life as the Chemical Maiden, alone and thirsty for avengance. as she spoke those words into my ear, as she whispered the sweetest lullaby, with her poise and her mallice dead eyes, i took the knife unwillingly, and stabbed myself in the chest. i heard my chest crackle before my blade, my ribs seemed to bow before it like the humble servants. only my heart, staring at the widow fromout it's dark cradle in my chest, felt a need to beat again. with the blood, came out the maggots drowning in it, feasting upon it like it were the sweetest vine one had ever tasted. my heart ached, for what seemed would be the last time. never to be broken again. "lay it in my hands, Evangeline." the widow Mannequinn spoke, but all i could hear was an echo from my heart, it screamed out the softest tune i played in my head, it sang to me like a carousel i once had in my private chambers, it sang out the tune of something new. i looked at it, grabbed it with my right hand, letting the knife fall through my fingers and with a clinger, it fell down on the ground, make little sways in blood. i held my heart in my right hand, the bitter red blood dripping down my fingers like water. my blood was darker then the blood of the living, it was rotten and it smelt like a bad fermented cherry. sweet, but bitter. my heart looked at me with its glassy crimson surface, and i laid it slowly into the widow's skeleton hands. never to be broken again."  the chemical maiden by marlett e. hunt. |
- 20:29 - ~feels like tragedy~ (8) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~half accidental, half painful instrumental~
 i try to wash away the stains, but like she said: blood is thicker. APDEJT xoxo so, anyway....i'm wanting teh invader zim t-shirt so badly right now. i crave. oh, oui. i'm begining to crave for the pretty invader t-shirt. whilst listening to garbage and dresden dolls. hmm...so, yah. i was in Mochvara the other day. stayed until 1 am, half past one i think. and there was this makeshift emo kid with a pretty face and a pierced lip, frank iero style, which literally drove me to the edge of insanity. and i was liek, all flirty and stuff. all flirty, drunk, soaked in sweat from dancing all night long to some 80's songs. and then we had to hit the road and i was so bloody sad. i want that emo kid....*thinks of B.* no, on second thought, hold the emo kid and gimme B., more more more. oui. no man will ever be as great and desireable [read: no man but Vincent ] |
- 17:13 - ~feels like tragedy~ (13) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~you clip off their wings so they don't fly away...like this.~
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Nobody loves me Everybody hates me I think I'll go and eat worms Big fat gooshy ones Wee skinny ooshy ones See how they wriggle and squirm And you bite off the heads And you slurp out the juice And you throw the skins away Nobody knows how I will thrive On worms three times a day  the day zim slipped away. i have this strange connection with invader zim. it's like i can see beyond the funny cartoon and into jhonen's soul. i can feel the bitchiness of nick canceling his life work......and he said he had a lot of new ideas for the new episodes. i love jhonen so much. he's thinking like me and timmy B. and luke chueh. i like him, in a weird abstract way. although he is a bit too morbid for me...funny i should say that. i'm so....arogant right now. i'm watching the invader zim clip with a strange and rly sad background music....and it's about how much pain the cacnceling of invader caused all the fans all around the globe. there's a petition, too. we all love invader zim so much <333 it will never be the same without invader zim...and i'm downloading all the episodes so i can memorize them and watch them whenever i feel like it. limwire's a hardcore bitch. compliments to the new super kool keyboard that makes typing so posh. hmmm....but enough of that, althoug it does make me so sad and i rly love and worship invader zim, mwahahahahahaha <3333 kissy.  i haven't written a poem in ages. i'm too distracted with skool, invader zim, B. and Milkshake. now that i have filled most of the gaps in the Milkshake story which happened like, two days ago when i got a flash bulb to my head and it made me grab a pen and write down all the silly details that were so obviosuly there....nothing stops me from starting off with a flare. and everybody knows how much i've been sweating over Milkshake. a year exactly next month. and i shall make a movie, oh you count on that little dirt jars, mwahahahaha. one day.....yeeesss........*gasp* the trailer. i'm pathetic XD |
- 22:42 - ~feels like tragedy~ (15) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~ this is the best day ever,mwahahahaha ~
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sum 41's way better in "scotty doesn't know" then lustra. making brief sidenotes, since now i have limewire and teh world of music's mine, mwahahahaha!! so, anyway... you might notice that i wasn't writing teh posts for a while now. and i don't know what the reason is. was. yah. oooh, and yah. downloaded vamps will never hurt you. and ciara. i like ciara,for some weird and twisted reason...hmm...yah. weird and twisted,indeed. goodies...i'm going bonkers. soo...i'll be sure to make an invader Zim t-shirt once i get my hands on an idea worthy of a kewl tee. or i could make pajamas. and sleep in them...yeeeesss.....pajamas....i can wear them to Krakow, mwahahahaha. i'll be all weird cus we're gonna be driving to Krakow at night and we'll prolly be there in the morning. very early....yeeeessss.......  so, Gir and Zim rock my world. and Dib's father, that hawtie. and B. damn, he's one hawt fionce *skitter* oooh. i love atreyu. so weird and snappy.and underworldy :3 random random random, i'm bored and inspirationless.mwah. waiting for chicks and dudes to go online on msn so i can make fun of them with my new....umm...Invader Zim quotes. or i migt just go and watch seinfeld now, whilst eating a sammich. sammich...mwahahaha.....Jhonen, my love. timmy B, danny and jhonen rawk my guidy chipy thingy. JHONEN VELASQUEZ teh genius baby. oh,man ain't that the truth.  i hate this keyboard. i'm off downloading now. buh-bye hopefully next time a bit more interesting post, with lots of pics and stories. |
- 16:26 - ~feels like tragedy~ (9) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
~ absinthe with a pinch of sugar. shaken, not disturbed ~
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omb, check this out. i just had a dream, which was more of a vision thing... there's this shop, that embalms corpses of people and animals. in the back, that is. the front of the shop is full of big glass jars filled with formaldehyde, which is basically a liquid like water that preserves dead bodies and stuff. and on the jars, containing babies, organs, dead animals like cats, dogs, fetus thingies and sheep, and other stuff...on the jars there were...kahm, price tags. and anyway, there are also shrunken heads, dried up, shriveled legs and body parts, human hair and tiny nic-nacs on the counter. as i was passing teh store [in my dream-vision, of course] i felt utterly spooked, like my spine was shivering and my blood was curdling in my veins. but the whole point of me writing this is, i guess, that the whole shop idea is not that bad at all. i mean, people are morbid and i'm surprised that they haven't came up with this idea a long time ago. and i could make a storyboard based on that idea. i can, liek, make a creepy shop assistant, a man behind the counter into a skinny and greedy cashier that kinda looks like a skeleton himself, really weird customers, other merchandise and some plot. and enclose it all very neatly into Chem. Maiden...or make another story. well, i have lots of options and i like teh idea a lot. woo-hoo.  |
- 11:58 - ~feels like tragedy~ (30) - ~kiss in the shape of a bullet...~
Dnevnik.hr |
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burlesque queen
 tim burton, danny elfman, jhonen vasquez, candy canes, candy in general [not to worry. mommy's a dentist. zomg. just like...WONKA *gasp*], spiral staircases, secret rooms filled with candy [which, one day i'll surprise my kids with], daggers, crossbows, automatic crossbows, automatic full-lenght crossbows, automatic full-lenght triple re-charging silver crossbows, automatic...[well, you get my point], silver in general [gold is evil], guinea pigs, crows, ravens, frogs [green ones especially], corsets, leather corsets which have nothing to do with bondage of any kind, steel armour, non-romantic realistic poetry, romantic-yet-not-so-sappy poetry, Edgar, plain black tophats, gloves of any kind, black fingerless gloves, fishnet gloves, arm warmers, long discussions about the final season of *oz*, tom fontana, black-n-white motives, colorless photographs, frayed paper, pale skin, pierced lips, them big packet pringles, teh cinema, butter flavoured popcorn, long matrix themed o'reily brother's leather coats, vampires, ghost stories, amy lynn lee, danny elfman's music, fluffy pillows, fireplaces, untouched snow, neck ties, stories, absinthe, opium, inspector abberline, edmund blackadder, narrators in stories, side notes in books, old books, 16th century medicine, curvy wings, green eyes, gonagall edmund hewitt & acker wood, thinking about the future as a famous writer, ireland, the sound of crickets[although they scare the crap out of me], my pretty little former-green-now-stripey-black-n-red room, colorful allstars, army boots, masks, canes, long black capes, pirates, silence, music, dark fantasy movies, hanz zimmer, midnight, the full moon, long trees in a forest, hillocks covered with snow, spooky willow trees, pumpkins, mistery, shadows, black and white combinations, thin wrists, bracelets, piercings, emo, narrow stone alleys and streets, unknown poets, unmarked graves, tombstones, elegant pose, mirrors, wooden stakes, cute guys like dorian gray with oh-so-nasty secrets they reveal for-your-ears-only once/before you kiss him, snarky guys, bad boys gone good at the end of the movie, credit rolls, mistakes during the filming, laughter, irish accent, rooftop bedrooms, big beds, wedding gowns... 
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