oranges_xd oranges_xd

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oriana XVI  setting fire to our insides for fun

http://stxrrlights.tumblr.com/

im back. i guess.

*inserts that light in darkness dumblybee quote*

the trees,
just like every other pretty little thing,
are kept indoors.
A display for who? we'll never know.
They're just all locked and trapped and never alright. -
...and they say the sky's the Limit.

:-
am I the only one wishing life away?
Never caught up in the moment,
busy begging the past to stay.
Memories painted with much brighter ink;
they tell me i loved, teach me how to t h i n k.

when they let you down, the morning rolls around..

HAPPY BIRTHDAY allygrannyboovevo aya youre 70 so old lah. ive realised that i actually do not have a solo pic of just us (oops) so here is us feat a ridiculously happy owl.
i dont see you that much in school but every time we all hang out you're just so bubbly and hyperactive that i dont know whether to laugh or pretend i dont know you. (maybe both) you and your strawberry obsession will forever leave me in awe (srsly strawberry jam strawberry this strawberry that) stay GRANd yo

hope survives.
-
it is the vines that creeps around wreckage and blooms into flowers of white yellow and orange.
-
it is the comfort of a friend's hug; the smell of banana bread after a long day; the moment when the lights turn on in the pitch black room, a new beginning to pair with an ending.
-
it is the smile on your face, the twinkle in your eyes, laughter evident - made immortal by the camera. -
(hope springs eternal in a human breast)

you crash and burn. you try and breathe. but oh! it's too late. the gaseous scent runs down your throat, through your lungs and veins. your facade melts like muddied snow, leaving an empty soul. (planes don't burn from the fall, but from the landing)

and now we're at a bus stop. this is a rest stop, or is this the Destination? no idea. we wander off our minds as we overthink the situation, the gears spinning too fast like tissue paper rolls when they fall to the ground. this is the undoing of you. of me. it is the undoing of ourselves by ourselves. transportation isn't invincible, but it was you who steered the wheel at first, wasn't you? and then you stop.
:
:
:
you realise the more you think, the less sense you make. you Fall.

i find myself forever entertaining the thought that anyone's life can be symbolised as transportation. people come and people go, at the end of the day all that will remain is you, driving off that mysterious lane you've mark yourself upon while trying to make some sense in this mess of a world. what a 'wonderful' world indeed

twelve days of christmas: OH MY GOSH WE DONEEE twelfth day of christmas: 12 pieces of weird and wonky glass stain cookies bc i fail at watercolor and um simply gave up drawing in detail halfway so eyyy im actually late again but at the very least ive posted twelve things all in all and now know exact why i wont be doing inktober anytime sooner.
speakig about baking; these were the last things ive baked that means almost a month ago i am astonished and hungry

twelve days of christmas:
day eleven: eleven days of trying not to fallasleep
this is actually more of a record of the past eleven days and how i went from omg yay christmas to fml why am i even doing this; the small ass letters are things that teachers drone on and on about so theres no need to be able to read it

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