Gaia :: Profile Comments

Report | 07/10/2011 2:31 pm

J.P. Chartreuse

you look like you have no hiiiiiiips

Report | 07/08/2011 1:59 pm

nothingbutsimplicity

wait, you draw?
holy s**t did not know that.
your awesome level just skyrocketed.

Report | 07/06/2011 1:41 pm

Chiangg

Hey!
c:

Report | 07/05/2011 10:03 pm

kill kull

oh my god.
it's my amanda, i'm back from tumblr.

how's life?

Report | 07/05/2011 6:07 pm

Cryptogon

Perhaps I now even dare to miss everything, which once thought as nothing when anything had been of approach.

Report | 07/05/2011 6:05 pm

Cryptogon

So, yes.

I return again, perhaps now endowed by the re-thinking of what I had thought, in the message below.
Dear goodness I have missed you, Ms.

Report | 06/17/2011 9:50 pm

Whence it Flows

Nice legs.

Report | 06/08/2011 6:54 pm

Cryptogon

An explanation, I feel owed.

It is fascinating, in all aspects how time may fracture, detain, even refrain or exact progress in one's life.
How one day, this funny - in a world so large, therefore a would-be insignificant- cub, could engage such conversations,
interests, and connections with someone so distant, yet close in sense of this time, in sense of this connection.
Then BAM, shock, perhaps even a hint of pow - injects itself within this conception, fracturing, detaining,
and altering the path of one's life.

I have been thinking,
thinking oh-so cleverly,
yet interestingly, in a broken manner,
of what I have left,
and or what has left me.

Perhaps to a point in which I drove myself upon a pedestal of near-acquired insanity (or rather, what is deemed insane by the normalcy of worlds),
my price was delusion, and an oh so kinky, yet kindred approach of intrusion.
I was but a fragment of everything, which once I named I. Gaining, and losing, regaining then improving,
improvising what was lost, to simplify what was gained,
it went on,
it went on,
drawn upon the melancholy, perhaps even the macabre-delight (a gift from that oh so cute laugh, for which I remember)
of seemingly not-with-end of taunt.

Anyways, I have been molded by the attraction to reform, not conform, but re-envision my words, through a manner of direct thought and interaction.
Ms Amanda, I do not wish for you to ever feel disdain at the thought of my voice,
I do not want, nor care for you to be saddened by the days of our entwined ballads of engagement, fascination, desire,
I do however, want you to live as if the account of such eccentric-passion,
had not affected your beauteous voice,
nor the thought, and intriguing face which strode with it.

Oh goodness, I am rambling, as if my though is of but only shambles,
hmm,
I do miss you, yes, I was quite fond of you, perhaps shall always be, as eternal as the name you gave me,
but I feel as though I am no longer welcome here,
where?

I have been torn,
oh so much Ms Amanda,
that I no longer feel deserving,
not of the passion,
not of foolery, and pastimes,
friendship,
not of love.

Gaia has cleared from my intentions, and has declared its vowe of detachment,
but, not for every one of many of these beloved days,
but for my path to ready its end,
perhaps I must remove my cares from my world,
perhaps for me to do my bid,
to save,
to love in an unconditional manner,
I must remove myself of attachments?

Where has Zan glanced upon,
when he, I stray from attention,
and was struck by misfortune?

Hmm.
I shall ponder this.

'til my reconnection,
my return,
I bid you an admitted, regret of farewell.

The Cub