Randomnesss

I am hurt and I am alone. I am staying up late trying to define my pain. I try to take time to breath, but time pass so much and I feel like, there is no time to breathe anymore. I feel like exhaling so deep and closing my eyes, without counting my responsibilities or the things I have to do, I want to know that things are going to be alright. And like in the movies, when they re-sured themselves saying that everything would just fine. I am fighting silently; I am crying aimlessly, I am dizzy with a headache. My pain can fit into most kinds of pain; actually it’s leaving-home-pain, love-pain, lonely-pain, and general-type-of-pain. I know I am not a princess, even they feel pain or rather the feeling of getting too much bored of what they have.  I don’t know how I am anymore, I am sure I am not how I used to be. That laugh-fresh-happy-flirty-me ain’t anywhere to be found right now. Because everything about this place, this time, brings me bad things, bad memories, reminds me of the bad things always. It’s like they all surrounding me, from everywhere; going through my walls of protection, knocking me down on my own ground. I try to fight them back, turn this vibe off, fix things up. They get fixed, then I smile proudly at my work, and soon enough my smile fades, melting to a frown of disappointment, and misery. Tiredness, actually come over me, controls me, take over my mind, making feel this is over, can’t be done no more. Telling me that this is the time, where I should pick the corner where I would breakdown, and became truly useless. I bet there are about hundred dozen songs out there assuring that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and you are perfect and no need to change or to feel upset. But actually too much words, made it un-unique, repeated, meaningless. Sometimes, it feels that you need to just listen to these words even if it doesn’t change anything, or even touch the core, like it’s suppose to be. Maybe in another life, things would turn different, somehow alive. Living now, is waiting for summer. Waking up, is spending another day from the hundred and four days left. I can’t write anymore, about my life, I feel betrayal, like I betrayed the memories that I shared once, betrayed the good that I lived. But at the end of the road, this good, is the thing that keeps moving, dragging myself to life.

New ME

Holla guys, I thought I would do a bit of tlaking first before writting about myself. I am Emilia Roberts, 17years. and I Just want to thank you L.W, for giving me this blog for writting my online public journals and thoughts, so I thought why not. since I don't have anyone to talk to anyway.
so join me to know more about Mrs Jones School.

Sorry

I haven;t been here for like centeries, I feel acceint.
Just kidding. I miss this thing, dunnoe why though.

I met someone called Emilia Roberts, she is such an amazing person you won't belive it. she just moved to  another country too. and she asked to take over this thing, for a while. so I am letting her since I obviusly don't write anythiing.
anyway lots of love,
LWN

My story:

well , first of all i just wanna say that i am writting a book which i haven't though of it's title yet, but i have two in mind. so here are some covers...

Covers for KDWritter.

Hope u like them;

A new Cover for an inkpoper!!!

so today is saturday which means that dad is coming tom. and we have another week and i will be gone.
i will be flying in the sky to another land where i suppose to live my life like the one i used to have.
i see alot of paked suit-casse and black huge bags waitting in the behind or front door to be taken to the airport, and i am just bebbing them to shrink or desaper for now coze the make me feeel sick.
Moving is leaving .
Switching is the end of the deal.
Transfering  is the dead line for the old life.
Packing is a must.
Goodbye is never a choice.