Imagination, schoolboy's

Being rather young at present — I am getting on in years, but still I am rather young — I have no particular adventures of my own to fall back upon. It wouldn’t much interest anybody here, I suppose, to know what a screw the Reverend is, or what a griffin SHE is, or how they do stick it into parents — particularly hair-cutting, and medical attendance. One of our fellows was charged in his half’s account twelve and sixpence for two pills — tolerably profitable at six and threepence a-piece, I should think — and he never took them either, but put them up the sleeve of his jacket.

As to the beef, it’s shameful. It’s NOT beef. Regular beef isn’t veins. You can chew regular beef. Besides which, there’s gravy to regular beef, and you never see a drop to ours. Another of our fellows went home ill, and heard the family doctor tell his father that he couldn’t account for his complaint unless it was the beer. Of course it was the beer, and well it might be!

However, beef and Old Cheeseman are two different things. So is beer. It was Old Cheeseman I meant to tell about; not the manner in which our fellows get their constitutions destroyed for the sake of profit.

Why, look at the pie-crust alone. There’s no flakiness in it. It’s solid — like damp lead. Then our fellows get nightmares, and are bolstered for calling out and waking other fellows. Who can wonder!

Old Cheeseman one night walked in his sleep, put his hat on over his night-cap, got hold of a fishing-rod and a cricket-bat, and went down into the parlour, where they naturally thought from his appearance he was a Ghost. Why, he never would have done that if his meals had been wholesome. When we all begin to walk in our sleeps, I suppose they’ll be sorry for it.

Old Cheeseman wasn’t second Latin Master then; he was a fellow himself. He was first brought there, very small, in a post-chaise, by a woman who was always taking snuff and shaking him — and that was the most he remembered about it. He never went home for the holidays. His accounts (he never learnt any extras) were sent to a Bank, and the Bank paid them; and he had a brown suit twice a-year, and went into boots at twelve. They were always too big for him, too.

In the Midsummer holidays, some of our fellows who lived within walking distance, used to come back and climb the trees outside the playground wall, on purpose to look at Old Cheeseman reading there by himself. He was always as mild as the tea — and THAT’S pretty mild, I should hope!— so when they whistled to him, he looked up and nodded; and when they said, “Halloa, Old Cheeseman, what have you had for dinner?” he said, “Boiled mutton;” and when they said, “An’t it solitary, Old Cheeseman?” he said, “It is a little dull sometimes:” and then they said, “Well good-bye, Old Cheeseman!” and climbed down again. Of course it was imposing on Old Cheeseman to give him nothing but boiled mutton through a whole Vacation, but that was just like the system. When they didn’t give him boiled mutton, they gave him rice pudding, pretending it was a treat. And saved the butcher.

So Old Cheeseman went on. The holidays brought him into other trouble besides the loneliness; because when the fellows began to come back, not wanting to, he was always glad to see them; which was aggravating when they were not at all glad to see him, and so he got his head knocked against walls, and that was the way his nose bled. But he was a favourite in general. Once a subscription was raised for him; and, to keep up his spirits, he was presented before the holidays with two white mice, a rabbit, a pigeon, and a beautiful puppy. Old Cheeseman cried about it — especially soon afterwards, when they all ate one another.

Of course Old Cheeseman used to be called by the names of all sorts of cheeses — Double Glo’sterman, Family Cheshireman, Dutchman, North Wiltshireman, and all that. But he never minded it. And I don’t mean to say he was old in point of years — because he wasn’t — only he was called from the first, Old Cheeseman.

At last, Old Cheeseman was made second Latin Master. He was brought in one morning at the beginning of a new half, and presented to the school in that capacity as “Mr. Cheeseman.” Then our fellows all agreed that Old Cheeseman was a spy, and a deserter, who had gone over to the enemy’s camp, and sold himself for gold. It was no excuse for him that he had sold himself for very little gold — two pound ten a quarter and his washing, as was reported. It was decided by a Parliament which sat about it, that Old Cheeseman’s mercenary motives could alone be taken into account, and that he had “coined our blood for drachmas.” The Parliament took the expression out of the quarrel scene between Brutus and Cassius.

When it was settled in this strong way that Old Cheeseman was a tremendous traitor, who had wormed himself into our fellows’ secrets on purpose to get himself into favour by giving up everything he knew, all courageous fellows were invited to come forward and enrol themselves in a Society for making a set against him. The President of the Society was First boy, named Bob Tarter. His father was in the West Indies, and he owned, himself, that his father was worth Millions. He had great power among our fellows, and he wrote a parody, beginning —

“Who made believe to be so meek
That we could hardly hear him speak,
Yet turned out an Informing Sneak?
Old Cheeseman.”

— and on in that way through more than a dozen verses, which he used to go and sing, every morning, close by the new master’s desk. He trained one of the low boys, too, a rosy-cheeked little Brass who didn’t care what he did, to go up to him with his Latin Grammar one morning, and say it so: NOMINATIVUS PRONOMINUM — Old Cheeseman, RARO EXPRIMITUR — was never suspected, NISI DISTINCTIONIS — of being an informer, AUT EMPHASIS GRATIA — until he proved one. UT — for instance, VOS DAMNASTIS — when he sold the boys. QUASI — as though, DICAT — he should say, PRETAEREA NEMO — I’m a Judas! All this produced a great effect on Old Cheeseman. He had never had much hair; but what he had, began to get thinner and thinner every day. He grew paler and more worn; and sometimes of an evening he was seen sitting at his desk with a precious long snuff to his candle, and his hands before his face, crying. But no member of the Society could pity him, even if he felt inclined, because the President said it was Old Cheeseman’s conscience.

So Old Cheeseman went on, and didn’t he lead a miserable life! Of course the Reverend turned up his nose at him, and of course SHE did — because both of them always do that at all the masters — but he suffered from the fellows most, and he suffered from them constantly. He never told about it, that the Society could find out; but he got no credit for that, because the President said it was Old Cheeseman’s cowardice.

He had only one friend in the world, and that one was almost as powerless as he was, for it was only Jane. Jane was a sort of wardrobe woman to our fellows, and took care of the boxes. She had come at first, I believe, as a kind of apprentice — some of our fellows say from a Charity, but I don’t know — and after her time was out, had stopped at so much a year. So little a year, perhaps I ought to say, for it is far more likely. However, she had put some pounds in the Savings’ Bank, and she was a very nice young woman. She was not quite pretty; but she had a very frank, honest, bright face, and all our fellows were fond of her. She was uncommonly neat and cheerful, and uncommonly comfortable and kind. And if anything was the matter with a fellow’s mother, he always went and showed the letter to Jane.

Jane was Old Cheeseman’s friend. The more the Society went against him, the more Jane stood by him. She used to give him a good- humoured look out of her still-room window, sometimes, that seemed to set him up for the day. She used to pass out of the orchard and the kitchen garden (always kept locked, I believe you!) through the playground, when she might have gone the other way, only to give a turn of her head, as much as to say “Keep up your spirits!” to Old Cheeseman. His slip of a room was so fresh and orderly that it was well known who looked after it while he was at his desk; and when our fellows saw a smoking hot dumpling on his plate at dinner, they knew with indignation who had sent it up.

Under these circumstances, the Society resolved, after a quantity of meeting and debating, that Jane should be requested to cut Old Cheeseman dead; and that if she refused, she must be sent to Coventry herself. So a deputation, headed by the President, was appointed to wait on Jane, and inform her of the vote the Society had been under the painful necessity of passing. She was very much respected for all her good qualities, and there was a story about her having once waylaid the Reverend in his own study, and got a fellow off from severe punishment, of her own kind comfortable heart. So the deputation didn’t much like the job. However, they went up, and the President told Jane all about it. Upon which Jane turned very red, burst into tears, informed the President and the deputation, in a way not at all like her usual way, that they were a parcel of malicious young savages, and turned the whole respected body out of the room. Consequently it was entered in the Society’s book (kept in astronomical cypher for fear of detection), that all communication with Jane was interdicted: and the President addressed the members on this convincing instance of Old Cheeseman’s undermining.

But Jane was as true to Old Cheeseman as Old Cheeseman was false to our fellows — in their opinion, at all events — and steadily continued to be his only friend. It was a great exasperation to the Society, because Jane was as much a loss to them as she was a gain to him; and being more inveterate against him than ever, they treated him worse than ever. At last, one morning, his desk stood empty, his room was peeped into, and found to be vacant, and a whisper went about among the pale faces of our fellows that Old Cheeseman, unable to bear it any longer, had got up early and drowned himself.

The mysterious looks of the other masters after breakfast, and the evident fact that old Cheeseman was not expected, confirmed the Society in this opinion. Some began to discuss whether the President was liable to hanging or only transportation for life, and the President’s face showed a great anxiety to know which. However, he said that a jury of his country should find him game; and that in his address he should put it to them to lay their hands upon their hearts and say whether they as Britons approved of informers, and how they thought they would like it themselves. Some of the Society considered that he had better run away until he found a forest where he might change clothes with a wood-cutter, and stain his face with blackberries; but the majority believed that if he stood his ground, his father — belonging as he did to the West Indies, and being worth millions — could buy him off.

All our fellows’ hearts beat fast when the Reverend came in, and made a sort of a Roman, or a Field Marshal, of himself with the ruler; as he always did before delivering an address. But their fears were nothing to their astonishment when he came out with the story that Old Cheeseman, “so long our respected friend and fellow- pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge,” he called him — O yes! I dare say! Much of that!— was the orphan child of a disinherited young lady who had married against her father’s wish, and whose young husband had died, and who had died of sorrow herself, and whose unfortunate baby (Old Cheeseman) had been brought up at the cost of a grandfather who would never consent to see it, baby, boy, or man: which grandfather was now dead, and serve him right — that’s my putting in — and which grandfather’s large property, there being no will, was now, and all of a sudden and for ever, Old Cheeseman’s! Our so long respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge, the Reverend wound up a lot of bothering quotations by saying, would “come among us once more” that day fortnight, when he desired to take leave of us himself, in a more particular manner. With these words, he stared severely round at our fellows, and went solemnly out.

There was precious consternation among the members of the Society, now. Lots of them wanted to resign, and lots more began to try to make out that they had never belonged to it. However, the President stuck up, and said that they must stand or fall together, and that if a breach was made it should be over his body — which was meant to encourage the Society: but it didn’t. The President further said, he would consider the position in which they stood, and would give them his best opinion and advice in a few days. This was eagerly looked for, as he knew a good deal of the world on account of his father’s being in the West Indies.

After days and days of hard thinking, and drawing armies all over his slate, the President called our fellows together, and made the matter clear. He said it was plain that when Old Cheeseman came on the appointed day, his first revenge would be to impeach the Society, and have it flogged all round. After witnessing with joy the torture of his enemies, and gloating over the cries which agony would extort from them, the probability was that he would invite the Reverend, on pretence of conversation, into a private room — say the parlour into which Parents were shown, where the two great globes were which were never used — and would there reproach him with the various frauds and oppressions he had endured at his hands. At the close of his observations he would make a signal to a Prizefighter concealed in the passage, who would then appear and pitch into the Reverend, till he was left insensible. Old Cheeseman would then make Jane a present of from five to ten pounds, and would leave the establishment in fiendish triumph.

The President explained that against the parlour part, or the Jane part, of these arrangements he had nothing to say; but, on the part of the Society, he counselled deadly resistance. With this view he recommended that all available desks should be filled with stones, and that the first word of the complaint should be the signal to every fellow to let fly at Old Cheeseman. The bold advice put the Society in better spirits, and was unanimously taken. A post about Old Cheeseman’s size was put up in the playground, and all our fellows practised at it till it was dinted all over.

When the day came, and Places were called, every fellow sat down in a tremble. There had been much discussing and disputing as to how Old Cheeseman would come; but it was the general opinion that he would appear in a sort of triumphal car drawn by four horses, with two livery servants in front, and the Prizefighter in disguise up behind. So, all our fellows sat listening for the sound of wheels. But no wheels were heard, for Old Cheeseman walked after all, and came into the school without any preparation. Pretty much as he used to be, only dressed in black.

“Gentlemen,” said the Reverend, presenting him, “our so long respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge, is desirous to offer a word or two. Attention, gentlemen, one and all!”

Every fellow stole his hand into his desk and looked at the President. The President was all ready, and taking aim at old Cheeseman with his eyes.

What did Old Cheeseman then, but walk up to his old desk, look round him with a queer smile as if there was a tear in his eye, and begin in a quavering, mild voice, “My dear companions and old friends!”

Every fellow’s hand came out of his desk, and the President suddenly began to cry.

“My dear companions and old friends,” said Old Cheeseman, “you have heard of my good fortune. I have passed so many years under this roof — my entire life so far, I may say — that I hope you have been glad to hear of it for my sake. I could never enjoy it without exchanging congratulations with you. If we have ever misunderstood one another at all, pray, my dear boys, let us forgive and forget. I have a great tenderness for you, and I am sure you return it. I want in the fulness of a grateful heart to shake hands with you every one. I have come back to do it, if you please, my dear boys.”

Since the President had begun to cry, several other fellows had broken out here and there: but now, when Old Cheeseman began with him as first boy, laid his left hand affectionately on his shoulder and gave him his right; and when the President said “Indeed, I don’t deserve it, sir; upon my honour I don’t;” there was sobbing and crying all over the school. Every other fellow said he didn’t deserve it, much in the same way; but Old Cheeseman, not minding that a bit, went cheerfully round to every boy, and wound up with every master — finishing off the Reverend last.

Then a snivelling little chap in a corner, who was always under some punishment or other, set up a shrill cry of “Success to Old Cheeseman! Hooray!” The Reverend glared upon him, and said, “MR. Cheeseman, sir.” But, Old Cheeseman protesting that he liked his old name a great deal better than his new one, all our fellows took up the cry; and, for I don’t know how many minutes, there was such a thundering of feet and hands, and such a roaring of Old Cheeseman, as never was heard.

After that, there was a spread in the dining-room of the most magnificent kind. Fowls, tongues, preserves, fruits, confectionaries, jellies, neguses, barley-sugar temples, trifles, crackers — eat all you can and pocket what you like — all at Old Cheeseman’s expense. After that, speeches, whole holiday, double and treble sets of all manners of things for all manners of games, donkeys, pony-chaises and drive yourself, dinner for all the masters at the Seven Bells (twenty pounds a-head our fellows estimated it at), an annual holiday and feast fixed for that day every year, and another on Old Cheeseman’s birthday — Reverend bound down before the fellows to allow it, so that he could never back out — all at Old Cheeseman’s expense.

And didn’t our fellows go down in a body and cheer outside the Seven Bells? O no!

But there’s something else besides. Don’t look at the next story- teller, for there’s more yet. Next day, it was resolved that the Society should make it up with Jane, and then be dissolved. What do you think of Jane being gone, though! “What? Gone for ever?” said our fellows, with long faces. “Yes, to be sure,” was all the answer they could get. None of the people about the house would say anything more. At length, the first boy took upon himself to ask the Reverend whether our old friend Jane was really gone? The Reverend (he has got a daughter at home — turn-up nose, and red) replied severely, “Yes, sir, Miss Pitt is gone.” The idea of calling Jane, Miss Pitt! Some said she had been sent away in disgrace for taking money from Old Cheeseman; others said she had gone into Old Cheeseman’s service at a rise of ten pounds a year. All that our fellows knew, was, she was gone.

It was two or three months afterwards, when, one afternoon, an open carriage stopped at the cricket field, just outside bounds, with a lady and gentleman in it, who looked at the game a long time and stood up to see it played. Nobody thought much about them, until the same little snivelling chap came in, against all rules, from the post where he was Scout, and said, “It’s Jane!” Both Elevens forgot the game directly, and ran crowding round the carriage. It WAS Jane! In such a bonnet! And if you’ll believe me, Jane was married to Old Cheeseman.

It soon became quite a regular thing when our fellows were hard at it in the playground, to see a carriage at the low part of the wall where it joins the high part, and a lady and gentleman standing up in it, looking over. The gentleman was always Old Cheeseman, and the lady was always Jane.

The first time I ever saw them, I saw them in that way. There had been a good many changes among our fellows then, and it had turned out that Bob Tarter’s father wasn’t worth Millions! He wasn’t worth anything. Bob had gone for a soldier, and Old Cheeseman had purchased his discharge. But that’s not the carriage. The carriage stopped, and all our fellows stopped as soon as it was seen.

“So you have never sent me to Coventry after all!” said the lady, laughing, as our fellows swarmed up the wall to shake hands with her. “Are you never going to do it?”

“Never! never! never!” on all sides.

I didn’t understand what she meant then, but of course I do now. I was very much pleased with her face though, and with her good way, and I couldn’t help looking at her — and at him too — with all our fellows clustering so joyfully about them.

They soon took notice of me as a new boy, so I thought I might as well swarm up the wall myself, and shake hands with them as the rest did. I was quite as glad to see them as the rest were, and was quite as familiar with them in a moment.

“Only a fortnight now,” said Old Cheeseman, “to the holidays. Who stops? Anybody?”

A good many fingers pointed at me, and a good many voices cried “He does!” For it was the year when you were all away; and rather low I was about it, I can tell you.

“Oh!” said Old Cheeseman. “But it’s solitary here in the holiday time. He had better come to us.”

So I went to their delightful house, and was as happy as I could possibly be. They understand how to conduct themselves towards boys, THEY do. When they take a boy to the play, for instance, they DO take him. They don’t go in after it’s begun, or come out before it’s over. They know how to bring a boy up, too. Look at their own! Though he is very little as yet, what a capital boy he is! Why, my next favourite to Mrs. Cheeseman and Old Cheeseman, is young Cheeseman.

So, now I have told you all I know about Old Cheeseman. And it’s not much after all, I am afraid. Is it?


You're giving me rules and hints from all sides,
And when you hit my back, you rot my eyes,
i'll be missing you here everyday


Depression is a state of low mood and aversion to activity. A depressed person will experience or display some of the following:

  • Persistent sadness, anxiety or feelings of emptiness
  • Feelings of hopelessness, helplessness and/or pessimism.
  • Feelings of worthlessness or guilt
  • Contemplating suicide or suicide attempt
  • Problems concentrating, remembering details and making decisions
  • Fatigue and loss of energy
  • Persistent aches, pains or digestive problems that are resistant to treatment
  • Irritability or restlessness
  • Insomnia, waking early, or excessive sleeping
  • Overeating, or appetite loss
  • Loss of interest in activities that once were pleasurable (e.g., hobbies, sex, social activities, etc.)

Depression as a defense mechanism

A number of authors have suggested that depression is an evolutionary adaptation. A low or depressed mood can increase an individual's ability to cope with situations in which the effort to pursue a major goal could result in danger, loss, or wasted effort. In such situations, low motivation may give an advantage by inhibiting certain actions. This theory helps to explain why depression is so prevalent, and why it so often strikes people during their peak reproductive years. These characteristics would be difficult to understand if depression were a dysfunction, as many psychiatrists assume.

Depression is a predictable response to certain types of life occurrences, such as loss of status, divorce, or death of a child or spouse. These are events that signal a loss of reproductive ability or potential, or that did so in humans' ancestral environment. Depression can be seen as an adaptive response, in the sense that it causes an individual to turn away from the earlier (and reproductively unsuccessful) modes of behavior.

A depressed mood is common during illnesses, such as influenza. It has been argued that this is an evolved mechanism that assists the individual in recovering by limiting his/her physical activity. The occurrence of low-level depression during the winter months, or seasonal affective disorder, may have been adaptive in the past, by limiting physical activity at times when food was scarce. It is argued that humans have retained the instinct to experience low mood during the winter months, even if the availability of food is no longer determined by the weather.

Willie Adler, Lamb Of God

William M. Adler (born January 26, 1976) is the rhythm guitarist in the heavy metal band Lamb of God. He is the younger brother of bandmate Chris Adler.

Willie joined Lamb of God after the first guitarist, Abe Spear, left the band. Self-taught, Willie is well-known for his unconventional style of playing, which includes odd/dissonant chord shapes, unique timing patterns, odd rhythms, high usage of his fretting hand's pinky finger, wide stretches between frets due to an increased reach, and being an obsessive perfectionist with his right hand rhythm playing. He plays mostly the jagged staccato riffs in Lamb of God's songs, while Mark Morton plays more of the groove-oriented rhythms and solos. Willie does solo occasionally, and says whereas Morton is more knowledgeable of scales and modes, that he "attacks solos like a division problem". Willie is described by bassist John Campbell as a "good time guitar player." Willie and brother Chris Adler have been described as the metal purists in the band.

Willie is a primary songwriter in Lamb of God. His songs include "Black Label," "11th Hour," "Blood Junkie," "Hourglass," "Blood of the Scribe," "Beating on Death's Door," "Ashes of the Wake," "Ruin" and "Again We Rise." Adler also co writes songs with Mark Morton, as he wrote the pre-solo breakdown to "Walk With me in Hell", and all of "In Your Words" up until the atmospheric ending which Mark Morton penned. One of his influences that got him into music was Metallica when he was 11 yrs old.

When not touring, writing or recording with Lamb of God, Willie enjoys his downtime at home with his wife Brandy and their son Tres, and dogs; working on the house and cooking. He also has a tattoo of a southern fried chicken dinner on his stomach, which can be seen on the Lamb Of God DVD "Killadelphia". While on this tour, after a show in Leeds (U.K.) during filming he and director Doug Spangenberg paid a prostitute £30 to clean the band's tour bus topless. He is known as the "joker" of the band.

Willie has recently worked with Houston metal band Vehement to produce their six-track promo cd.

Dealing With Life's Hardships

We have the tools of our own consciousness to design a life of spirituality. We have been given the tools of strength and balance in our body, mind and spirit connection. We do not require any outside stimulus to open and expand our state of consciousness to include the sensitivities of empowerment within our humanity.

Using prayer to connect to the highest source of all qualities allows the spirit to grow and be within a framework of love. It solidifies the connection between human frailties and the God of our own understanding. Opening and closing all our efforts with spirit, in prayer solidifies the covenant we seek with the guiding force of all life.

As you can program your computer to its language, so can you program your universe to the language of love. With this programming in place, the universe will resonate with the highest frequencies of 'life force energy', 'God'; 'Light' that resonate at this frequency.

When you focus on this frequency, your being becomes attuned, like a musical instrument and will bring it into harmony in every cell of our universe. When you focus on fear, it creates dis-harmonic frequencies in your being.

This inspiration talks to our interaction with others: Reason, Season, Lifetime Author unknown

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

We can neither create nor destroy energy; we can only change its form. As we create something, we do not create the energy, but take energy that already exists and change its form into that which we desire.

Live Fast, Die Young

I live my life, don't wanna waste no time
I don't need no rules, all I touch is mine
Never thinking twice about what I do
I'm like a savage animal on the loose
Live fast, oh you gotta die young


I billowed calmly as a cloud
Upon a course for acid rain,
When in the fog of smoking crowd,
My lungs collapsed in searing pain.

Full of soot and black with tar,
I coughed in vain for chest to clear;
At least my lungs had got this far
Despite my years of toxic air.

But Smokers’ Lounge was home to me,
Where fellow addicts puff with joy:
Our pipes in hand, all friends are we,
‘Let’s fine cigars now share, my boy! ’

‘So puff away, ’ my motto cries,
‘And light another cigarette
Before a further smoker dies,
Which happens often – you can bet! ’

Another Fuck

i dont know why but after getting bored and doing the previous one, im sort of enjoying this one right now!

1.Like to walk under the rain?
- yeah, sooo muucchh!

2.Sleep with or without clothes on?
- boxer only.

3.Prefer black or blue pens?
- Black.

4.Dressed up as what on Halloween? when?
- nope.

5.Like to travel?
- yeapp, ofcourse

6.Like someone?
- Yes ;">

7.Do they know?
- No, im shy you know!

9.Think you're attractive?
- nahh, i dont think so.

10.Want to marry?
- Yes ofcourse

- errrr, i dont know -,-

12.Alaska or Hawaii?
- alaska

13.Are you a good student?
- Yes. im serious.

14.Are you currently in a relationship?
- yeah maybe, errr yeah yeah -,-

16.Christmas or Halloween?
- Christmas

17.Colored or black-and-white photo?
- colored

18.Do long distance relationships work?
- it's up to the couple yawn, but i think the distance doesnt matter at all

19.Do you believe in astrology?
- I guess so, yeah

20.Do you believe in God?
- Yes

21.Do you believe in love at first sight?
- Yes, i already had one thou

22.Do you consider yourself the life of the party?
- depends on the party i guess.

23.Are you an outgoing person?
- forced to i guess, yeah maybe

24.Do you have a job?
- no, i dont have one.

25.Do you make fun of other people?
- yeah, i love to laugh and i want for ever :D

26.Do you think dreams eventually come true?
- if you working bloody hard on it, sure nothing impossible

30.Chocolates or Candy?
- chocolates

33.Favorite food?
- some tasted sweet, err it's like (i dont know the name)

34.Go to the movies or rent?
- movies

37.How's the weather right now?
- cold and comfortable

38.Hug or kiss?
- both XD

39.Last person you talked to on the
- danny

40.Last time you showered?
- this morning

41.Loud or soft music?
- Loud louder and loudest

42.McDonalds or Burger King?
- Macd yawwnn

43.More romantic? baths or shower?
- baths, bubble baths

44.Night or day?
- Night.

45.Number of pillows on ur bed?
- 5

46.Piano or guitar?
- guitar

47.Red or white?
- white

49.Snow or water?
- Snow.

- ogyeah

51.what clothes are you wearing?
- green Naughty Pine shirt.

52.What do you drink today?
- lemon tee, water, apple juie, orange juice

53.What's is your wallpaper on your mobile?
- girls.

54.What's right next to you?
- many many cloudy things.

55.What's your bedtime?
- dont have one.

57.What time do you get up in the morning?
- 10PM i guess yeah, cant recall

58.Who do you talk to the most online?
- i dont notice such details really.

59.What would you like to say to the person who hurt you most?
- thank you so goddamn much.


Two Names You Go By:
1. Amirul
2. Hakimi

Two Nick Names You Go By:
1. Kimmy

2. Hakim

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. pyjamas
2. neckles

Two Things You Want in a Relationship:
1. faith
2. honesty

Two of Your Favorite Things to do:
1. play music
2. fool around

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The
1. sleep
2. nadiha

Two things you did last night:
1. crying on bed
2. update my myspace photos

Two things you ate today:
1. breaded chicken
2. banana split

Two people you Last Talked To:
1. danny
2. fara

Two Things You're doing tomorrow:
1. jam
2. attend my friend 19th birthday

Two favorite beverages:
1. coke
2. twister

Two of your least favorite things to
1. dancing
2. do things i dont feel a passion toward

Have you ever been given roses?
- yeah, once

What is your all-time favorite
romance movie?
- reality, love and rock & roll

How many times have you honestly
been in love?
- once

Do you believe that everyone has a
- yeah, maybe

Do you think that you should put
your friends first?
- yeah ofcourse

Have you ever had your heart
- always

Your thoughts on online
- it's common now peep's

Have you ever seen a friend as more
than a friend?
- yeah

Do you believe the statement,
"Once a cheater always a cheater."?
- yeah yeah!

How many kids do you want to
- 2

What is your favorite color(s)
- violet

What are your views on gay
- extremely gay

Do you believe you truly only love
- in some way yes

Imagine you're 79 & your spouse
just died.would you re-marry?
- no no no

At what age did you start noticing
the opposite sex?
- 11

What song do you want to hear at
your wedding?
- lamb of god, again we rise!

Do you know someone who likes
- yeaaahhh!


maybe it is not 100% your fault, maybe im pushing you away to hard. im so much sorry i just want to drag you out from this black & blue. it's hard to breathe to seeing you in this kind of way, sorry it's hurts me so much. yeah maybe you're right, the distance doesnt matter but i still feel's like you're so far away, i dont know it's been like a gap or something big like a boundries in the middle of us now. im sorry i know this is to much but that's what i've feel about us.


I promise to stop loving you tomorrow. Today can be your last day in my arms again. I promise to stop thinking of you constantly and wishing i could wake up every morning next to you. Darling, yes it's true, but today can we pretend it's not too late?

I promise to stop dreaming 'bout you, promise to stop waiting for your calls 'cause i. don't wanna care at all. But maybe just tonight we should forget about what's right one last time because i...


Human = challenging game of temptation for eternal souls. Everyone wins, but it takes longer for some of us, because whether we want to admit it or not, we love the challenge. We forget when we're human how peaceful it is in between. When we're in between, we want to learn more lessons from the game. There are plenty of lessons, because by the grace of our own energy, we create. Thankfully, we're only in human form for a short period of time. Otherwise our souls would be "up all night drinking coffee" forever! Even souls need a rest.


The woman stepped from the bath and dried her hair and body with a towel. She felt each worn board beneath her feet as she walked to the front door. The sun reflected off the dirt all around her home in the desert, temporarily blinding her. A gentle breeze entered the house and refreshed her clean, pale skin. Two wavering specs appeared over the horizon and were headed in her direction. She stepped all the way out onto the front poarch and waited - her arms crossed over her chest, holding up the towel.

The two men rode their horses at a trot toward the house. They could see a well out front, and the blonde-haired man swore he could smell the water just waiting for them. "Yes, but lookee here," interjected the red-haired man, chewing the end of a twig he'd picked up at the last town - two days ago. There on the poarch of that house stood a ghostly woman. Her hair and eyes were dark and serious, but her skin was white as a sheet. "Where you reckon her old man be?" he asked the blonde man. "Le's find out," the other replied. As they neared, she never moved, and the two began to wonder in earnest if she were one of those manequins they'd seen in the taylor's window back east. They stopped the horses not ten feet from the poarch steps, and the red-head dismounted and walked slowly toward her. She watched him in a waiting way. She didn't smile or make a peep. She had no expression whatsoever, but looked him straight in the eye. He smiled and tipped his hat, "Afternoon." She was still. "Are you deaf? Can you hear what I'm saying to you?" Her left eyebrow rose a fraction of a centimeter. "Where your old man?" No response. He turned to his friend and laughed, then said, "Look like we got more than just water here, Buford. Look like we got some sugar too!" The blonde man smiled, "Weeeelll, alright then," and tipped his hat to her. Red-head turned back to her with his scruffy, yellow-toothed grin, and he moved his right arm toward her left shoulder. Like a cobra, her right arm shot toward him, and her open hand slammed into his adams apple, crushing his throaght. She casually put her arm back over the other where it had been before and continued to watch red-head as he gagged and coughed and his face turned from red to purple and finally he sank to his knees and then forward on his face and gagged no more. She turned her eyes to blonde-head, who had stopped his dismount and was still frozen standing with one foot in the stirrup and the other draped over his horse's back. He fully mounted and began to slowly turn away from the cabin. Her hand shot out again and she snapped her fingers loudly once. He turned back to her, and as she held his eyes she pointed her finger down at red-head. With the heal of her foot, she kicked his hip and he rolled down the poarch steps and into the dust. She waited patiently while blonde-head dragged his friend up and over his horse and mounted it, turned and rode away forever. She looked at the remaining horse for a moment, then walked back inside, leaving the door open to catch the breeze.

The next morning when the sheriff arrived, her door was still open. She was sitting at the table in a white cotton frock and bare feet so she could feel the coolness of the floor. She'd slept with rags tied in her hair and now her hair was soft and wavy. Small strands would tickle her cheeks in the breeze. She sipped her coffee and watched the sheriff walk up the steps and remove his hat.

"Naoma, you know there's a horse out here?"

She cocked her head and smiled with half her mouth, "Yeah, I know."

"What'd you do? Why'd you kill that man, Naoma?"

"He was trespassing, John."

The sheriff did not reply. He only shook his head slowly with a resigned look about him.

"You can have that horse if you want, John. Seems I get more visitors lately. I don't need him. Anything I need I guess I can get off one of these people that come around here. I can't feed a horse." She paused. "You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Ok, then."


tina (:: baby
kimmy (:: hey baby
kimmy (:: imy
tina (:: imyt
tina (:: ilysm
kimmy (:: miss you like hell here
kimmy (:: im waiting for you whole day long
tina (:: sorry baby
tina (::
kimmy (:: its okay
tina (:: sorry again syg
tina (:: i love you
tina (:: mwahh !@#$%^& *ditapis*
tina (:: i'll keep your promise bby
kimmy (:: loveyou <33 !@#$%^& *ditapis*
tina (:: omg syg
tina (:: i love you forever
kimmy (:: i love you tina
tina (:: i love you too kimey
tina (:: mwahhh
tina (:: you're mine now
tina (:: remember that
kimmy (:: ngeee
tina (:: yeahh im so into you
kimmy (:: amirul hakimi
tina (:: qistina qaidah
tina (:: ;')
kimmy (: sayang you
tina (:: i sayaaaaaaaaaang you juga dear
tina (:: syg da lame on ?
kimmy (: lama jugak kot, hmm
tina (:: sorry yea my dear
tina (:: you're mine
tina (:: always and forever
kimmy (:: ye baby
kimmy (:: you pegi mane je hari nih?
tina (:: pegi pavillion
tina (:: jalan2
tina (:: dgn fara
kimmy (:: ouh
kimmy (:: bby, u buat ape jek tuh?
tina (:: tgah dengar lagu
tina (:: you ?
kimmy (:: takde buat pape
tina (:: dah dinner ?
kimmy (:: belum
tina (:: alaaa nape xmkn lg ?
tina (:: pegi la mkn b please
kimmy (:: kejap lagi boleh?
tina (:: now please baby
tina (:: i tunggu you mkn dlu okay baby
kimmy (:: its done'
tina (:: u mkn ape syg ?
kimmy (:: makan nasi goreng je, tapau kat kedai
tina (:: huhu
tina (:: janji u mkn
tina (:: you xmkn i risau
kimmy (:: sorrieee bubuuu
tina (:: syg you hunn
kimmy (:: bukti? haha
tina (:: dtg meet i
kimmy (:: then?
tina (:: kiss you hug you
tina (:: mcm2 laa
kimmy (:: mana boleh
kimmy (:: grrrr
tina (:: kenapa ? ;(
kimmy (:: mane boleh tak buat
kimmy (:: hahaha
tina (:: wekk
tina (:: hahaha
tina (:: comel
tina (:: <33
tina (:: mwaahh

*okay, next ni serious sikit and it's not for you peeps to read, thank you

Tuesday Morning :)

there is something that seems completely missing right now, fuck dont ask me why cause i dont even know why i feel's this kind of way. maybe hmm, maybe im still sleepy right now yeah why? good question peeps, ask my wife about this. i've already got my breakfast and Dina im sorry about last night okay? i didnt mean to left you out alone. Mukmin, yeah sorry i dont have a time for the next week jamm session practice, sorry bro. to cdnaz, thanks for the riffs videos thank you so goddamn much bro, it help me working on getting my touch back. for nizam, im sorry i cant be there yesterday and im so much sorry. for who ever that mad at me yesterday im sorry okay? i didnt mean it okay?

well i guess im not good in saying and showing all of you my sorry but please i hope that i've got forgiveness and mercy from all of you peeps. maybe im not a good friends but please remember peeps, i've got a feelings to, i've got my own problems to. thank you again, hell out.


Whoot whoot, thanks haha, you're the best
Yeah it's been a while right whoot whoot? Hahaha
Ofcourse i miss you too, more than you do, hahaha
Remember your promises, MY LAKSA JOHOR! Hahahaha

You Watch Me Bleed

The silence keeps it easy, keeps you safe for the moment. As you're walking away your foot steps get louder. All you needed was time, but now time will destroy us. It will all be over, and here we are, we're stuck inside this salted earth together. You'll pierce my lungs, my limbs go numb as my colors fade out. I gave you everything to die with a smile and all you wanted was to live for a while. You took everything but it left you empty, you can't replace her, you can't.


You look so innocent,
But the guilt in your voice gives you away
Yeah you know what I mean
How does it feel when you kiss him, when you know that i trust you
And do you think about me when he fucks you?
Could you be more obscene?

So dont try to say you're sorry,
Or try to make it right,
Don't waste your breath because it's too late,
it's too late

Again We Rise

Store-bought attitude and spit,
a sugar-coated piece of shit.
An instant rebel, just add greed.
Another useless commodity.
Broken glass and a broken jaw,
lies are told in a southen drawl.
Poor-house poverty's your schtick,
The real thing would kill you quick.

Rise, again we will rise.

Blood and fire used to fill the night,
burnt and drowned by our very lives.
You missed a sinking boat by years,
dollar signs, crocodile tears.
It's over now and long has been,
those days are gone won't come again.
Another name crossed off the list.
The real thing would kill you quick.
Rise, again we will rise.

There's nothing for you to fight against,
you're so unreal it's evident.
You'll never be one of our kind,
this ain't yours, fuck you don't try.

This bridge was burnt before you could cross,
you reap the benefits of what's lost.
Go home son, hang your costume up,
a goddamn insult to the rest of us.
A thousand-yard stare across the south,
a full belly and a lying mouth.
Momma's boy plays heretic.
The real thing would kill you quick.

Rise, again we will rise.

There's nothing for you to fight against,
you're so unreal it's evident.
You'll never be one of our kind,
this ain't yours, fuck you don't try.

Fuck you, don't even try.
Fuck you, your time is nigh.
Fuck you, I've had enough.
Fuck you, your time is up