Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Implantation Bleeding Pink Mucus

lazy lazy lazy

Yesterday I start over the university classes

Type the first two days, I learn with great disappointment that the people with whom I was usually because they are shamefully back with the exams, have decided not to attend the first half pe ril to give two thousand exams in November (I am aware that it is impossible, right? O_o). Ergo, in these two days I made the commitment to find a nice face in the crowd and sit next to its owner. Yesterday I failed, but this morning I found a lonely girl and I've stuck button
XD Actually I joined a different group of people I know, the so-called (by me) the group of mannequins. So-called because they are filthy rich

-brand dress from head to foot-
are able to spit on me if you do not dress like them or if you're ugly / fat / poor / normal
But frankly, I prefer to keep wide. Enough for me when I greet all sugary as soon as we crossed. Not that I belong to the people they elect, the designer clothes in my closet are few, so in theory should deal with rejection. Not only do because I know some of them from kindergarten, and they know that should not piss me off XD
But while today I had a person that I thought that was normal at my right hand and an empty seat to the left, yesterday .. . er. On the right there was a girl instead of 'regional standards' wrote 'jounali standards' on the left was a couple that I tried to make a child during the lesson ...
Oh well, I should be pleased that this year I will not lecture in a theater into disuse, but in a classroom. Oh, what a nice change to have a table on which rest the book!

changed the subject. Just five minutes ago I saw the pv of LC5. Yes, I know that the name does not say anything to anyone. In practice there is the singer of Antic Cafe, I am the first Japanese group I met, and that at the beginning of 2010 were virtually disbanded T_T
Nothing ago strano vedere il cantante del primo gruppo che ho conosciuto, che ho amato, messo con altre persone. Ero abituata a vederlo in abiti tutti colorati con altri 4 idioti, ora è vestito di nero con 4 (o erano 3?) personaggi indefiniti T_T
Mi è tornata un po' la tristezza per lo scioglimento del gruppo. Devo davvero tanto agli AnCafè. Cazzo, se conosco gli Arashi è merito loro, praticamente. Ah...

Friday, September 17, 2010

What's In Digesticure?

Hearts' bounds [1/4]

Titolo: Hearts' bounds
Genere: angst, yaoi
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sakuraiba
Disclaimer: queste persone non mi appartengono, e anche se mi belonged to them would live happily ever>. \u0026lt;
Notes: After 'is not a fanfiction', I decided that I'd never written stuff that did not have a happy ending. Instead ... And we are falling back T_T
'divided into 4 parts, two from the perspective of Sho, two to Aiba. And the phrases found at the cone drawn from the song 'Desire' of the Baru and Yasu Kanjani8

"Soba ni iru noni aitai
Hora kyou mo Tookie "

" I want to see you even though you're
See right there, even today you Seem so distant "



SHO

You would have thought that we'd end up like this?
that day when all five of us gathered in a room for the first time, tearing one of my usual afternoon study, you would have imagined what was waiting for us?
Or maybe you thought it would all become friends, we'd have fun, we would have done what everyone expected from us, without any major hitches.
Maybe, without changing so much life.
Sometimes I wonder if you would have said not to have a passport, if I had known the final would be this. If you'd rather not put my head under the shower and you ignore what caused the bodies of your fellow next to you.
thoughts are not honest, I grant you.
You always had too much courage and you've always been too stubborn to turn his head away. If you had not done that day forward, I'd do the next one, I'm sure of this.
time, however, did not know.
I did not know anything about you. Only that you were a kid that was put in my own group, with whom I had to work indefinitely, and you were too good to be able to ignore as I did with others, too beautiful to look at you with contempt.
Perhaps even too good to let hate.
In the bottom you have always been. Even after our many fights. All the times you hurt me, when I thought it would be much easier to let go. I never found the courage to do so.
And now that I did I would just go back and stay all these words, remove the bitterness from your eyes.
I was never brave like you. I never even pretended to be.
He looked lost, that first day.
They explained everything, you seemed not to hear. Or maybe just trying not to think too much, because it absolutely did not want to back out, whatever what had been. Perhaps you wanted to seem stronger than what you are, as you always have.
probably already the first time I've deceived.
I did not know anything about you, I knew nothing of your smiles, or the burning passion that lay behind them.
What is certain, I could not give in to the impulse to protect you. Tell
to think, to calculate the risks, would be a betrayal to you and to my own feelings. I wonder if this impulse stemmed from the fact that in some way already predict what the future would have tied. Or maybe it was your eyes he had awakened in me that tenderness did not think I have.
If it was your fault or my fault. Or we would have become of us and that now lies shattered at our backs, which was destroyed in pieces too small to be put back together.
Maybe it was a bit 'all this.
What I know for sure is that I had ulterior motives when I asked you to leave me your number. Although gaze slid over your shoulder while you lean to scribble on a sheet of paper, even though I could not help notice the subtle flexing of muscles and the construction of the back. Although it is impossible to deny that it felt even then that need for touch . It was not what
guide my movements, there was no more or less elaborate plan, no real desire, either.
In all honesty, the first time I saw it I thought that we would never have become friends, and me, nor that we would have developed any other type of bond. Facts have proven
soon as I was wrong, that first afternoon. But
predict the future is difficult, even when you think you have the tools. Even when you think you hold it between your fingers to tighten. And I
between his fingers had only a crumpled piece of paper, with your number written in a hurry. A note directed to me nearly aseptic as a courtesy, like a person passing through. Who could imagine how many rides would you have done in my life?
How could I believe that what had to happen eventually happened?