Sucker punch: great start, alright ending, rubbish middle. Rubbish.The end.
But wait, good soundtrack :)
The end.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Muse, lose, abuse and/or amuse yourself, time and me in all my depravity, benevolence and squander.. schadenfreuding welcome..
Muse, lose, abuse and/or amuse yourself, time and me in all my depravity, benevolence and squander.. schadenfreuding welcome..
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2011
(57)
-
▼
April
(11)
- Just because I feel like I haven't complained enou...
- Note to self: do not dedicate a song to a friend w...
- Letters to nobody.
- The men in my life.
- the pot of gold...
- I don't find it particularly LOL worthy but I am c...
- movie not to seeeeeeeeee
- Literally sitting here twiddling my thumbs because...
- Starting to feel the itch again.. it's been exactl...
- Someone told me yesterday that I sometimes have a ...
- Frivolities this weekend included but was not limi...
-
▼
April
(11)
"So-so, la-la, couldn't figure out the words he said, so-so, la-la."
Labels
- art (3)
- babies (3)
- beauty (2)
- best friend (3)
- boss (7)
- brother (3)
- complaining (1)
- confusion (4)
- countdown (2)
- crazy (5)
- crib (1)
- cyber space (3)
- dad (3)
- diary (3)
- embarrassment (2)
- excitement (3)
- family (5)
- Food (3)
- forgetfulness (1)
- fun times (3)
- funeral (1)
- gangstaaaah (1)
- hotties (1)
- humour (1)
- insomnia (2)
- jealousy (1)
- little brother (1)
- lol (12)
- London (3)
- love (16)
- miss (5)
- mission (1)
- movies (1)
- music (13)
- my soul (13)
- oops (1)
- ramble (18)
- restaurants (1)
- spiritual (4)
- toilet (1)
- travel (6)
- work (11)
Captain Corelli's Mandolin
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two." -St. Augustine
Regular Stalkees
"This world is colour blind"
- G & C
Powered by Blogger.
No comments:
Post a Comment