First Date by Sabrina Benaim
"I'm allergic to liars they cause my tongue to swell and sharpen. Bullet, Flesh, Tongue."
Cynophile
I trust dogs more than people. (Simple yet a powerful statement)
Dogs will never betray you, unless of course there's a reason why they must have felt the betrayal.
We have 9 furbabies at home, yes... you read it right, 9! And they are all adorable and loving! I wouldn't trade them for the world. They are not just pets, they are family. A big part of me.
I have 5 Shih Tzu, 2 Dachshund, 1 Domestic Dog / Aspin, and 1 Shiweenie (Mix of Shih Tzu and Dachshund).
Some people find it disturbing, having 9 dogs who lives with you, who in crazy mind would keep their pets in her room or even beside her bed right? Well I do! I know for a fact that they are clean, healthy enough. I consider them as my babies. Babies that are happy enough to wait for you until you get home. Babies wanting enough attention so that they can lick your face. Babies who knows when you're not feeling well and cheer you up. Even sensitive enough than human feelings.
I LOVE MY DOGS. My house is also their home.
For those who will visit, you're just a visitor. So don't ask me to get rid of them. That's also their property and they have the right to do what they like.
They may be some kind of chaos inside my room / home.
Well, I'm happy and they complete me.
They are a part of me, and this is who I am.
You can't change it, just deal with it.
Arf! They are my forever Com'paw'nions.
My Final Piece ♥
“My final piece
We’re born into the world
As just one small piece to the puzzle
That makes up an entire life.
It’s up to us throughout our years,
to find all of our pieces that fit.
The pieces that connect who we are
To who we were
To who we’ll one day be.
Sometimes pieces will almost fit.
They’ll feel right.
We’ll carry them around for a while,
Hoping they’ll change shape.
Hoping they’ll conform to our puzzle.
But they won’t.
We’ll eventually have to let them go.
To find the puzzle that is their home.
Sometimes pieces won’t fit at all.
No matter how much we want them to.
We’ll shove them.
We’ll bend them.
We’ll break them.
But what isn’t meant to be,
won’t be.
Those are the hardest pieces of all to
accept.
The pieces of our puzzle
That just don’t belong.
But occasionally . . .
Not very often at all,
If we’re lucky,
If we pay enough attention,
We’ll find a
perfect match.
The pieces of the puzzle that slide right in
The pieces that hug the contours of our own
pieces.
The pieces that lock to us.
The pieces that we lock to.
The pieces that fit so well, we can’t tell
where our piece begins
And that piece ends.
Those pieces we call
Friends.
True loves.
Dreams.
Passions.
Beliefs.
Talents.
They’re all the pieces that complete our
puzzles.
They line the edges,
Frame the corners,
Fill the centers,
Those pieces are the pieces that make us
who we are.
Who we were.
Who we’ll one day be.
Up until today,
When I looked at my own puzzle,
I would see a finished piece.
I had the edges lined,
The corners framed,
The center filled.
It felt like it was complete.
All the pieces were there.
I had everything I wanted.
Everything I needed.
Everything I dreamt of.
But up until today,
I realized I had collected all
but one piece.
The most vital piece.
The piece that completes the picture.
The piece that completes my whole life.
I held this girl in my arms
She wrapped her tiny fingers around mine.
It was then that I realized
She was the fusion.
The glue.
The cement that bound all my pieces
together.
The piece that seals my puzzle.
The piece that completes my life.
The element that makes me who I am.
Who I was.
Who I’ll one day be.
You, baby girl.
You’re my final piece.”
― Colleen Hoover, This Girl
We’re born into the world
As just one small piece to the puzzle
That makes up an entire life.
It’s up to us throughout our years,
to find all of our pieces that fit.
The pieces that connect who we are
To who we were
To who we’ll one day be.
Sometimes pieces will almost fit.
They’ll feel right.
We’ll carry them around for a while,
Hoping they’ll change shape.
Hoping they’ll conform to our puzzle.
But they won’t.
We’ll eventually have to let them go.
To find the puzzle that is their home.
Sometimes pieces won’t fit at all.
No matter how much we want them to.
We’ll shove them.
We’ll bend them.
We’ll break them.
But what isn’t meant to be,
won’t be.
Those are the hardest pieces of all to
accept.
The pieces of our puzzle
That just don’t belong.
But occasionally . . .
Not very often at all,
If we’re lucky,
If we pay enough attention,
We’ll find a
perfect match.
The pieces of the puzzle that slide right in
The pieces that hug the contours of our own
pieces.
The pieces that lock to us.
The pieces that we lock to.
The pieces that fit so well, we can’t tell
where our piece begins
And that piece ends.
Those pieces we call
Friends.
True loves.
Dreams.
Passions.
Beliefs.
Talents.
They’re all the pieces that complete our
puzzles.
They line the edges,
Frame the corners,
Fill the centers,
Those pieces are the pieces that make us
who we are.
Who we were.
Who we’ll one day be.
Up until today,
When I looked at my own puzzle,
I would see a finished piece.
I had the edges lined,
The corners framed,
The center filled.
It felt like it was complete.
All the pieces were there.
I had everything I wanted.
Everything I needed.
Everything I dreamt of.
But up until today,
I realized I had collected all
but one piece.
The most vital piece.
The piece that completes the picture.
The piece that completes my whole life.
I held this girl in my arms
She wrapped her tiny fingers around mine.
It was then that I realized
She was the fusion.
The glue.
The cement that bound all my pieces
together.
The piece that seals my puzzle.
The piece that completes my life.
The element that makes me who I am.
Who I was.
Who I’ll one day be.
You, baby girl.
You’re my final piece.”
― Colleen Hoover, This Girl
The Story of Me (Carnage #2)
When your world, your life and all of your hopes and dreams for the future are ripped out from under you, how do you go on?
Death without dying is not only the most painful kind of death, it's also the most painful kind of life and I don't know if I'm strong enough to live it.
I spend my lonely days and nights trying to make sense of what my life has become. Do I have the strength to move forward into the light, or should I just let the darkness take me?
I'm Georgia Rae Layton McCarthy and this is the story of me, just me.
I'm no longer a part of an us, it's just me.
Alone.
- Lesley Jones
Death without dying is not only the most painful kind of death, it's also the most painful kind of life and I don't know if I'm strong enough to live it.
I spend my lonely days and nights trying to make sense of what my life has become. Do I have the strength to move forward into the light, or should I just let the darkness take me?
I'm Georgia Rae Layton McCarthy and this is the story of me, just me.
I'm no longer a part of an us, it's just me.
Alone.
- Lesley Jones
| I like the first book better. Why? I got annoyed with George's stubbornness, and childishness. I mean, while I'm reading this book, i kept on saying to myself "grow the fuck up". It always left me hanging, thinking when will the character's attitude will change. But still, I love the fuck out of Tiger! Lol I always hope that they'll end up together since I didn't like Sean. Well Tiger is mature and Sean is just the opposite. |