Ice Cream?

Here’s a short poem I worked hard to write out. :) All the rhyming words were hard to think of. :/

“I’m gonna go get ice cream,”
she said, walking off to the shop.
What ice cream?
A cone? A scoop? A fruit pop?

What kind?
Sundae? Sorbet? Gelato?
What flavour?
Lemon? Raspberry? Pistachio?

What colour?
Chartreuse? Cornflower? Lavender?
What toppings?
Sprinkles? Syrup? A wafer?

Why was that so abrupt?
Does she think I hate her?
Will she get anything for me?
Well, I’ll probably find out later.




Violet sky,
Streaks of magenta,
Clouds tinted coral.

Cornflower blue,
The silver cresent askew,
Floating, soft grey wisps.

A black backdrop,
Sparse, sparkling flecks of glitter,
Onyx shapes swimming by.

Quiet, still, desolate.
Complete absence of sound, life.
Time freezes. Am I all alone?

A dull, mundane grey
turns a soft periwinkle,
with cracks of scarlet flames.

Dawn peeks from under the horizon.
Reassured, I rest, because
Another day is waiting ahead.

  I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. This was supposed to be a story prompt, Lizette! A story prompt! And look what happened! Well, I hope you liked it. :) This is all so new to me. :O


The Sky’s Your Limit

I’m sick of people misusing this phrase. The internet is full of stupid people who use this phrase and misinterpret it. Like, just Google it before you actually use it. How hard is that?! Save yourself some scolding and gain some insight, just freaking Google it.

I’ve seen a lot of people use it wrongly. Once, on 9gag, this guy made this post saying he wanted to be an astronomer when he was in kindergarten, and the teacher said, ‘The sky’s your limit.”, and he was sad. Well, I applaud your teacher for telling you that, because obviously s/he knows how to use it and you’re just a dumbass who never bothered to search for what it means and assumed you were right. Anyway, isn’t the sky infinite? So doesn’t it actually mean there is no limit?! I’m sorry, but how much dumber can people get?! Why were they even given the chance to live?!? (I probably don’t mean it, but this is just to emphasise how much I hate people who do that.) Maybe it’s just me, because I know how to use this and it just pisses me off to see people using it without knowing the meaning. I try to avoid using words I don’t know, and I’ll only use it confidently after I’m sure I’ve gotten hang of the meaning. (Unlike some people I know.) I hope I don’t catch myself using words I don’t know and end up embarrassing myself.

I also found another perfect example. Well, I don’t know how you’ll interpret it. Okay. Justin Bieber’s song, As Long As You Love Me. Yes, I listened to it. Go to the rap bit: “Used to tell me, “Sky’s the limit”, now the sky’s our point of viewHere, I get the impression that he thinks the sky is literally the highest thing you can aim for, and he’s reached that. So I’m like, what. I think he used it incorrectly. I’m not sure, though. I just think.

Now, I’d like to explain to everyone what this phrase- yeah, the same phrase that got me into a flying rage about how people use it incorrectly. You know, the title of the post?- actually means. It means there is no limit. Cause the sky isn’t this huge chunk of physical thing you can touch and block your way. At least, I think so, according to the knowledge of science I have. So yes, the sky isn’t this physical thing that can block you, it’s infinite, so technically the phrase ‘the sky’s your limit’ means there is no limit. According to some website, it’s “There is no apparent limit”. Close enough, yeah?

But who even came up with this easily misunderstood phrase?!


Storing Names Like Nuts

I have Twitter. Two accounts, one for the public, stupid, crazy, random tweets, and the other for more emotional, funny, private thoughts. On the latter one, I started writing down (with the hashtag) you-know-you’re-a-writer-when. Here are a few (coughtheonlyonesIactuallyhavecough) of them!

– You know you’re a writer when you want people to read what you write and compliment you, but when they do, you’re embarrassed

– You know you’re a writer when you read a beautiful book and think you can never write a story as good as that

– You know you’re a writer when you have mini debates with yourself over how the story should go and what should happen next

– You know you’re a writer when you have mini dilemmas over choosing a perfect name for your character

Let’s touch up on the last one, shall we? :) (Refer to the title!) Recently, I started using a spreadsheet to record down the title, date written, genre, type (for only me to know and you to wonder about), tense, and names. When I actually got down to writing, I suddenly realised I had to find a perfect name for the character, but alas, I couldn’t. (I also couldn’t repeat a name I had already used before, because it’s more fun that way) So I started taking notice of peoples’ names. I tried to avoid using the names of people I knew, so when I finally published the story (big dream, I know. Always aim for the Moon, even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. – W. Clement Stone.), I wouldn’t be badgered by them saying ‘Why the hell did you use my name? Do you really think of me like that? I’m so honoured! Do you like me or something?’

Which lead to me thinking I should ‘store’ names in my mind like squirrels store nuts! (I recently started asking random people if they liked nuts, e.g, walnuts, pistachios, peanuts, hazelnuts… This is all the nuts I can list right now. I don’t really know nuts because I don’t like eating them that much. Oh, and almonds! So if the person said yes, I’d go like, ‘You’re a wall.’ (Walnuts, get it?) or ‘You’re a pea.’ or ‘You’re a hazel.’. They don’t make sense, but hey, life doesn’t make sense.

If life is so illogical, why do we need logic? Think about it. :)


Four- Part 3

Well, what do I have to say. I remembered!
Part 1 here
Part 2 here

I was only four
When he kicked down the door.
Murdered my mother so casually,
And turned to chase after me.
I don’t have an explanation why
He wanted to kill my mother and I.
Because I was only at the childish, naïve age of four.

I wrote this because I found how fun it was to rhyme ‘four’ with ‘door’, and halfway into something, I thought of, ‘I was only four, when he kicked down the door’. So then I expanded it, and voila, poem! (Yay for actually finishing it!)


Four- Part 2

I remembered! Here’s the second bit of the poem. (There’s still a third, tiny bit. The first part is here.)

I was only four,
When I had to act like I was more.
With a wicked, menacing grin,
He committed yet another sin.
He shot my mother dead,
While he laughed off his head.
I ran, disgusted, afraid, terrified,
Helpless, confused, horrified.
It wasn’t long, before he caught up,
As I struggled, thrashing like an impotent pup.
The cold metal touched my ear;
The bullet loading, the only sound I could hear,
There was a whoosh of a bullet flying towards my brain,
But… I felt no pain.

Also, happy Valentine’s Day! I spent it with someone special. ;) How about you? :)


Everything Takes Time

And I hate how everything takes time.

So we’ve finished writing the book, yes? Now, I just want to skip through all the editing and fast forward to the day I’ll be sitting in the car, looking out the window at the lovely city, with butterflies in my stomach, as we drive to the destination of the meeting for the book publishing. I’m just focusing on that one, exhilarating moment, before the reality of it comes crashing down, raining with legal documents and terms and agreements and copyrights. Basically, before reality crushes my fantasies.

I hate, hate, HATE how you have to wait for everything. Unreasonable example: waiting to find out about your crush’s flaws and drawbacks. (Is that even an appropriate word?) My example (Heads up, I’m a really shallow and fame hungry person. Oops.): I can’t wait until I’m half famous on the internet by blogging.

Which brings me to something not so personal. My best friend knows this, though. I started blogging on WordPress because I wanted to be well known on the internet. – Tells audience how my senior has a lot of followers on Twitter, my friend’s older sister is a famous fashion blogger, and another senior I know is a singing sensation on YouTube- I think having a lot of people liking me will improve my self esteem. (Yay.) And it’ll be easier to publicise when my best friend and I finally publish our book! I mean, would you actually give a second glance at some random little girl squealing and squawking, encouraging you to buy her own book? No. That’s why when I grow up to be a writer, it’ll be a lot easier. You guys (who are reading this. There aren’t many of you, though. – sob sob -) would trust me after knowing me better, yeah?

But the thing about starting a blog and posting up things to pursue your dreams is that you can only limit yourself to a tiny bit, because once you put it on the Web, anyone can take it an reuse it. If you put a lot up (I think I’ve already written a bit about this) you won’t have anything left to write and publish.


– Looks at blog stats and sees a desert with not even a single ball of tumbleweed –


  In the meantime, enjoy this snippet of a poem which I will post the rest on here later. (AKA tomorrow/ day after.) (P.S. I actually like rhyming things, because if I don’t rhyme my poems, they automatically show up as stories in my mind. And so I have to rhyme them to categorise them as poems. I am a funny, funny person.I was only four,

When he kicked down the door.
Gone was the happy face,
His kind eyes replaced with malice.
In one hand was a gun,
Which to him, seemed a lot of fun.
He started playing with it,
Going into a mad fit,
While Momma told me to dash,
Before this got more rash.
Her eyes, I remember,
Were full of fear and terror,
Her face turned into a shocked mask,
And I could only help by completing my task.

  Have fun waiting! ;)