Mad Emotions

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Blogger.   Writer.   Fangirl

I'd like to believe that people can be distinguished from a monster but then that'd be hopeless. I pretty much lived my entire life, crawling inside invisible abysses of beautiful and mad emotions. I am emotionally broken. Parts of me are clinging on to walls which I know wouldn't carry me long. I don't know myself. That is probably because I try to believe that I am someone I want, that I lost the image of my true self a long time ago.

I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?

Credits to Slyia Plath for the last paragraph.






Coming Soon

Jusie Dayan | 2012


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Live Jesus, He died for me

A good snapshot stops a moment from running away.  ~Eudora Welty

My finger fumbled at the camera button, snapping at my classmate’s hand as she took up the baller with religious inscriptions on it.  A split second and the occasional flicker of orange light went off, speeding right out of the lens.  Then came out this photo.

The baller says: Live Jesus, He died for me. The message is truly meaningful and is worth a thousand snapshots.  I could take it from any angle and anyone watching the photo would feel the message.  It’s that powerful.

So anyways, I haven’t really posted on any of my blogs.  I’ve been focusing TOO MUCH on my studies (which I’m loving) and I think that I, even at the slightest of percentage, deserves a break from all my textbooks and I shall dive once again into my virtual realm.

Tumblr has changed.  It doesn’t sound so meaningful anymore. Everyone is just wating for followers to pour in as they post and reblog immature posts.  I blog because I want people to hear me, not because I want to show off that i have this, I have that.  That I could this and I can do that.  But seeing Tumblr this way … doesn’t make me feel good about being online anymore.

I hope you guys are reading some of my posts.  I will be semi-active from now on, probably a post or two every week.  I’m still recovering from the fact that I’m not in the First Section anymore…

So, have a great night guys! :))

(Source: scarletnotes)

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And there you sat. Completely silent, the usual spark in your eye dulled by some unknown force. I asked you what was wrong, to which you replied “nothing.” But I’ve sat and watched nothing eat up words and break souls. I’ve watched it tear the smiles from the faces of the people around me, leaving them broken and hollow. Too many people have been taken by nothing. And I won’t let you be one of them. I can’t.  - Anonymous

(Source: scarletnotes)

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Have you ever loved somebody so much it makes you cry?

(Source: amourfinnegantheme)

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It’s about who stayed.

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You’re not the same person to me anymore.

(via mjcsarmiento)

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default album art
Song: This Circus
Artist: Chevelle
Album: Sci-Fi Crimes
Played 249 times


This Circus

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Symbols of eternal infinity and the epitome of dreams

Protector of the universe from the touch of the desperate and the grim

Twinkling and shining, emblazing the world with a tongue of light

Embodiment of the heroes and their hands with might.

(Source: scarletnotes)

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The Bookworm Strikes Again

I’ve been reading Paulo Coelho books since Fourth Grade, the same time I started reading Antoine de Saint Exupéry’s The Little Prince (Le Petit Prince), and that, since that time, I’ve started to love books about life and dreams.  I’m a writer by nature and a bookworm at/by heart, and unlike other people, I read books because I’m interested, not because it’s the latest trend.  Paulo Coelho writes in a manner that normal people understand. And what I mean by normal is; people who rarely use “sophisticated” words and they live and talk with common, dictionary words.  The book, The Alchemist is a good read because it tells you a story of a young  boy who seeks for his treasure and at the same time, teaches you several values and some things we should learn about life. 

Being a bookworm is fun. That feeling when you first touch the page of the book and that scent you smell when you inhale the book through its well written pages.  It’s a different feeling, though, when you start reading and you suddenly enter a different dimension completely dissimilar to this weird world of ours.  And as time passes by, we feel as if we’re the characters, drawn out by extreme emotions.  

I’m going to love books … till death do us part.

(Source: scarletnotes)

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Wondering Mind

I sit and I stare. It is not nearly enough for me not to wonder how you are. And you, and another. I care far too much. Yet I am clumsy with my heart, with my words, with a knife. Words. They cut like knives. I don’t know how to bare my soul in a single whisper, or in a whisper at all. How does one talk, how does one try not to stalk? I follow them around corners. Ex lovers, friends, foes. I try to talk, try to understand, why they left. Why I am to leave. Why my heart has turned into a butterfly. Why my butterfly heart is far too clumsy to even be a butterfly. I care too much. I want a home, but all I ever get is a cocoon. I want to be enough, for people to swoon over my writing. For me to truly express. But since I cannot, they can’t either. I want to give and give, but then. When all has been given they strip. They strip me of my little cocoon where I have tried to take up residence, they want and they take. I just want them to be happy. My little clumsy butterfly heart.

Click and listen to this beautiful song while reading the above.

(Source: scarletnotes)

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Jusie | 2012