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STRIPES & POLKA DOTS |
Shapes and colors make me happy. I like abstract paintings. I like Picasso. I like solid colors - blue, red, yellow, green and orange. Sometimes I like neon. I like geometric lines and shapes. I'm particularly fascinated with squares. Not so much with waves and unclosed curves. I don't like Baroque-inspired designs. I don't like paintings of the Madonna and Child, farmers in the field, flowers in vases, and fruits in baskets. They hurt my eyes.
 Name::xam From::Metro Manila, Philippines i'm a pirate at heart. i'm smart, ruthless and greedy. yesterday i navigated the seas and my comrades died in battle. today i am trapped in davy jones' locker. but tomorrow i will find gold, i will be free and i will roam the seas again. Learn more about Sam
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge That myth is more potent than history. I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts - That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death." ~Robert Fulghum, It Was On Fire When I Laid Down On It **** You Belong to Me See the pyramids around the Nile Watch the sun rise From the tropic isle Just remember darling All the while You belong to me See the market place In old Algiers Send me photographs and souvenirs Just remember When a dream appears You belong to me And I'll be so alone without you Maybe you'll be lonesome too Fly the ocean In a silver plane See the jungle When it's wet with rain Just remember till You're home again You belong to me Oh I'll be so alone without you Maybe you'll be lonesome too Fly the ocean In a silver plane See the jungle When it's wet with rain Just remember till You're home again You belong to me **** What's Up Twenty - five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination And I realized quickly when I knew I should That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man For whatever that means And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? Ooh, ooh ooh And I try, oh my god do I try I try all the time, in this institution And I pray, oh my god do I pray I pray every single day For a revolution And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? Twenty - five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination
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I feel a certain kind of love. A certain kind that I haven’t read, watched, seen or heard about. If I can’t express it, then it might as well be like autographic clichés saying “Love is Blind” or “Love is sweeter the second time around”. Then it wouldn’t be like I’m thinking it is, distinct. There certainly must be a way to go around words to describe it. A painting maybe? A photograph? I can’t.
