nuraini
3e9 '04 tkgs
4e9 '05 tkgs
1AH '06 acjc
ACSian Theatre
leo
luvs:[mascara],[eyeliner] & [lipbalm]
obsessed with HANSON(:
fave music: punk/pop/modern/classic/indie rock
luvs to:[sing],[act],[dance],[listen to music]
[watch horror movies]
missing:[life in cape town],[life in jakarta]
check out my photo album
Mood: frustrated Song stuck in head today: Ain't No Sunshine (I would've liked the HANSON version to be stuck in my head but unfortunately it's some other person whose version I heard at the MPH cafe thingy-place)
Ok so now I see the immense work and difficulty it takes to create a blog/webpage layout. Honestly, I don't see how some people *coughjwcough* can create and change the templates as often as they take showers. I was just reading this tutorial on how to create iframes and stuff and to tell you the truth, IT BOGGLES MY MIND. How do people come up with this stuff??!! Well anyway I decided that I just have to get Paint Shop Pro or Photoshop so I can make my own graphics that I can be proud of. I'm so tired of looking for great icons/avvies/siggies etc. from talented people. Even though they say it's ok and that I give credit, I still feel a little bit guilty for using their work. *sigh* Anyway found this in the book I borrowed from the library.
Mirror
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful- The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me and old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.