crayoned thoughts

“Just like a box of crayons that contains a variety of different colors, this will contain a variety of thoughts... this is my crayoned thoughts! :)” That used to be my blog description, with a smile. But someone is keeping his colored thoughts busy today. When he read about the description, he didn’t like it. It’s too mushy-wordy with just the same rephrased phrase. And he didn’t like the word “that” in there too. “It’s a blocker”, he said (duh!). “I can reconstruct it in simple terms!” – “Let’s see”, I said. So I challenged him to reconstruct it. I told him it’s just not about having it simplified. It’d have to be as colorful as I’ve envisioned this blog to be. And now (tadaaa!), he pasted this on my chat box, “a box of crayons of different hues, as colorful and diverse as our thoughts... this is my crayoned thoughts! :)”. Hmm, not bad… hahaha! And still with a smile! :D Yeah, I admit. It’s much… nicer… He is colorful… :)

Cats and dogs outside, Lil ants and rats inside; I lay here hugging my pillow tight, As I think of you tonight. Can this rain course my thoughts to you, And make you think of me too. These cats and dogs will be over soon, And these thoughts of you will just be written in the moon.

"Ana Molly" - got the name from the title of a song by Incubus She had only been gone 30 minutes in the bright light. Yet, the rays of the excruciating sun already burned Ana Molly’s skin. She had to step out, had to be out, to show off her assumed beauty. There are a number of people, she saw. It’s a good crowd for a display, she thought.  She cursed the sun; yet there she is, eyeing the handsome man in his blue board-shorts. Ana Molly must get his attention. The handsome man is paying no attention to her at all. She must do something. She must get near him. Her skin is a skin that has been medically enhanced. She spent half her monthly earnings to maintain the acquired white and flawless complexion. Ana Molly is in panic. “My gad, my skin”, she groaned. She can’t afford to damage her skin, much more her face. Then, Ana Molly found a lone hat in the corner, resting upon an old branch. It’s sophisticatedly brown, beautiful -- classy. The hat has a lot of purpos

Again, this poem… i don’t know why i love this… ---- "just like you" one time, my pen got lost i've searched for it because it really cost unfortunately i did not find it so my temper burst out and i cried a bit sometimes things are like that you can't find it just when you needed it a lot just like you... just where are you.. on these days when i'm so blue... -originally written a decade and a year ago, during my second year in high school :)