♥

Profile.

yiting
26 July
♥
gimme the world pls.

Links.

Tagboard.

Rewind.

Credits.

Don't remove the credits. Thanks! :D

sweet

candiiez

photobucket

Information.

hello hello hello

~~classroom~~

started losing concentration at the 4th hour and compre became really hard cuz i just couldn't remember everything i read...

but well i guess in overall it was fine...

anyhow i cant really be bothered anymore

so finally

J1
PW
~~SAT~~

uhh...

okay

i am the happiest girl

ever.

whatever.

why am i always like this?

sorry.

to everything that i've done wrong. to everyone i let down. to those who loved me but did not get their love reciprocated. to those who cared but i never bothered talking to. to those who shared with me their secrets but i failed to keep. to those who trusted me. those who liked me. those who loved me. those who cared for me. those who tried so hard.

sorry. this must be retribution for i will never ever get it again.

can iwe

have it back please?

please

please...

by the River Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of this river- leaves, insects, the feathers of birds- is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only i could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and i could finally forget.

by the River Piedra I sat down and wept. The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks, and my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. Somewhere, this river joins another, then another, until- far from my heart and sight- all of them merge with the sea.

may my tears run just as far, that my love might never know that one day i cried for him. may my tears run just as far, that i might forget the River Piedra, the monastery, the church in the Pyrenees, the mists, and the paths we walked together.

I shall forget the roads, the mountains, and the fields of my dreams- the dreams that will never come true.

'seek to live. remembrance is for the old,' he said.

perhaps love makes us old before our time- or young, if youth has passed. but how can i not recall those moments? That is why i write- to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. so that when i finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra. That's what the woman who has given me shelter told me to do. Only then- in the words of one of the saints- will the water extinguish what the flames have written.

All love stories are the same.

-PAULO COELHO

by the river piedra i sat down and wept