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WelcomeToMadWorld
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Name: Le-Mi-Ka Country: Lithuania
Interests: MUSIC, RAIN, socks, MAGIC, short movies, DRAWING, guitar, piano, eating watermelon with spoon, notebooks, oranges, words 'indeed' 'librarian' 'cellar', WELLS, hair, eyeliner, PHOTOGRAPHY, philosophy, psychology, staring, laughing, glasses, COLD weather, when someone misses me, intelligence, Irish accent, water, skype, poetry, biting, barefoot, black computer keyboard, natural hair color, black and green and when they contrast, his SHIRTS, hands/fingers, fences, EYES, theatre, MOMENTS, breathing, books, DRESSES, sleep, NIGHT, feeling beautiful, "F.r.i.e.n.d.s", long conversations, songs I can sing, when someone touches my neck, vegetarian food, long profiles, STAIRS, art, bath, smell of paint, cats, playing, standing on high things, Corel (hoto-pain), vampires, pens and pencils, soulmates, letters, angels and other important things.. Expertise: Being far away from people...metaphorically.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
4/2/2006
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This is so pointless.
She makes herself a cup of coffee and pours it to the sink still hot; takes full film of photos and [accidentally] lights it; lays in a freezing bath and listens how drops of water slowly [and periodically] fall from the tap; almost gives her parents and best friend a heart attack [as scars never fade. Only skin moulds away when you’re visiting worms six feet under.]; doesn’t listen to people [or just doesn’t hear them] and feels like a dead bird in a small, four walled cage.
Oh.
I think it’s me.

“It would be wonderful if this moment never ended” – I think.
Simply heaven on a bench.
Almost a fairy tale. Just without a happy ending.
[[Not two weeks changes everything. 120 kilometers does. [Just everything!]]
It gets slightly stupid.
No rain today.
Guess I’ll have to eat ice-cream.
*sigh*
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I look at the mirror.
Then at myself.
At the mirror.
At myself.
Again at the mirror.
And again at myself.
And start to think that I was adopted.
Yesterday my mom poured some water on me telling me to grow.
Or when dad came in and heard that I'm listening to Jewish music said: "Are you in love with Jewish again?" Like he was sure I was in love with jewish person before. I wasnt.
My nerves are like a string of electric quitar. Go figure.
I'm going to take some more photos...
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I’m scared.
Someone hold my hand please.
Hug me...
..and say that everything will be alright.
As I’m really scared.
I don’t like soap operas “Oh, Anton Luis Carlos Hose, I’m dying...” in little b/w monitor... In a green ward...
I don’t like when a fly commits a suicide in my hardly touched H2O glass.
I don’t like doctors and colorful pills [[[What?! Even a doctor couldn’t help you?!!!]]].
I don’t like cold windowsills that get along with yellow cigarette filters and ashes.
And those coffin-like beds.
And sparkling lights.
And when I realize that I’m perfectly imperfect
“Cuz’ perfect people are abstract. And rare.”
Missed you.
Goodnight, darlings.
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