days like these I wish that I had stayed asleep...
šodien visu dienu esmu pissed off.sākot ar bāra lietām rītdienai, referātu un beidzot ar edžiņu. viss man sāk atgādināt attiecības ar Klāvu, rakstīšana un sūdzēšanās maniem draugiem, pārbaudīšana, var jau būt ka es pati sāku meklēt kopsakarības starp viņiem abiem, nezinu...kaitina, ka kontrolē mani visu laiku, taisa drāmas, un tad vakarā paiņo, cik briesmīga diena viņam bija, ka "šad un tad" tā viņam esot, ka nav ar ko iet ārā, neesot neviena, kas viņu novērtētu, zinu, ka es arī neesmu zelta gabaliņš...bet man arī ir sūdīgi, tikai tad es nevienam par to nestāstu, pati savedu sevi kārtībā, un aiziet, nākamā diena ir klāt....
man tiešām gribas atpakaļ, bet daļa no manis vēlas palikt te, un nekad nekad vairs neatgriezties sūdainajā lv....

“In my isolation now I dream of finding some sweet young thing in a moonlighted chamber-one of those tender teenagers, as they call them now, who read my book and listened to my songs; one of the idealistic lovelies who wrote me fan letters on scented paper, during that brief period of ill-fated glory, talking of poetry and the power of illusion, saying she wished I was real; I dream of stealing into her darkened room, where maybe my book lies on a bedside table, with a pretty velvet marker in it, and I dream of touching her shoulder and smiling as our eyes meet. “Lestat! I always believed in you. I always knew you would come!”
I clasp her face in both hands as I bend to kiss her. “Yes, darling,” I answer, “and you don’t know how I need you, how I love you, how I always have.”

“We’re all in the game; Just different levels. Dealing with the same hell; Just different devils.”

“I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul.”

“Don’t save your good lingerie for dates, wear it for YOU.”
— Dita Von Teese