A Lost Soul

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Recent Tweets @
Asker Anonymous Asks:
bakit inaagaw mo si kuya walp kay ate maica? kayo ba? kafal
hazelezah hazelezah Said:

Walang maaagaw kung walang nagpaagaw. At wala akong inagaw sa kahit kanino. Love ko si Maica. Huwag kang mang-issue.


Nakakapagod ding umasa minsan lalo na kung hindi mo alam kung hanggang kailan; kung hindi ka sigurado kung may aasahan ka pa o wala na.
Ako Lang

(via iamwalp)

Putangina mo po. I miss you. Hahahaha Hazeeeel >:D<
hazelezah hazelezah Said:

Bad po ang pagmumura! Frolic? Hahaha.

Learn to love someone when they least deserve it, because that is when they need your love most.
Rodolfo Costa  (via whereislemon)

(via ohpatrick)

Asker Anonymous Asks:
Namiss ko po kayo dito sa tumblr. :)))
hazelezah hazelezah Said:

Paano kita rereplyan? Hahaha. Thanks.

Asker Anonymous Asks:
bkit ang sungit mo?
hazelezah hazelezah Said:

Baka masungit lang ang pagkakabasa mo dahil masungit ka.

Asker Anonymous Asks:
ate di ba nasau na si walp? pati po b si millord? ganan ka po b talaga? sabay po talaga?
hazelezah hazelezah Said:

Oo. Ganito ako talaga. Gusto ko lahat sa akin. Gusto mo rin ba?

/feel kong pumatol

I gave up everything I have at the moment in exchange of us spending time together. I was happy doing it. I didn’t mind doing it because all my life, I just wanted to know you. You got my hopes too high that I didn’t even think of being pushed into my own sinkhole of emotions. Disowning me is not a new thing as it was what you did all my life. And what am I blabbering about? You scratched my wounds and poured alcohol onto it. There was scar in my heart that had forgotten the pain and you made the scar turned into wound once again.

I must admit though that you made me happy. Hearing your voice felt like heaven to me. You telling me you’re happy and that I am beautiful gave life to my dead heart. After years, I got to cry for joy because of you. Thank you.

Don’t worry (as if you will), this, too, will heal.

toska [tohs-kah]
(noun) An untranslatable, Russian word – Vladimir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”  (via les-espaces-et-les-sentiments)

(via iamwalp)

My new Da Vinci brushes and tubes of acrylic paint. I still need a phthalo blue.

Jars of sweetness.