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afleetingforever
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Name: Arvia
Birthday: 7/25/1991
Gender: Female
Interests: Arvia is to English as Juliet is to Romeo <3 Finds an odd pleasure in defining words, thus nicknamed the "Human Dictionary". Is a little known thespian. Adores the stage. Appreciates all forms of art. Likes to overanalyze and mentally dissect every aspect of humanity. Fascinated by greek mythology. Fawns over anything vintagey. Closet LOTR fan.
Expertise: Shrinks heads. Has an insane ability to suddenly go off on ridiculously random tangents. Poetess. Feared by many-a colored pencil and is a major cause for death in art supplies. (Yes, this is an expertise because I do create something with the pencil massacre) Is skilled in conversing with blank screens and away messages.
[cursor from iltd.org]
Occupation: Unemployed
Message: message me
AIM:  gossamerwingzx
Yahoo:  arviasutandi
Member Since:
4/30/2005
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| This is the story of a girl There once was a girl named Arvia and she thought she knew what she wanted in life.
She had many limitations, to be sure --not once did she ever meet a math problem she liked-- but she had enough passion and talent to dream big dreams that would send thrills down her spine as she lay thinking about them at night.
Most people thought her life's anthem sounded like the chirping of birds or the swooshing of fairy wings or perhaps a fusion of both --
And most oftentimes they were right,
But most songs hit a sour note from time to time and hers was no exception.
In came DJ Disappointment with his unpleasant emo soundtrack
& Arvia's anthem resounded with the tinkling of glass shards from her shattered dreams
& the wailing of banshees, the baying of wolves
& one random screeching violin that finished up the emofest.
It was awfully painful, and it scraped her ego raw - but perhaps some deflating is healthy for the humble mind.
I don't know whether Arvia is mature or not, because frankly she didn't choose the most introspective of narrators...
But at least she was sensible enough to ask herself:
Hey, what if I'm on the wrong dance floor?
Perhaps the dreams she had dreamt so big were never the ones quite meant for her,
Perhaps her happy chirping tune needed to be altered first to make way for
A deeper, more elegant melody.
This was no swansong that DJ Disappointment was blasting out, after all.
Perhaps that goddam screeching violin that heckled her so
Was actually a wake-up call to tell her to move on to better things. 
Was it worth it to take the risk, even if it ended in disappointment?
Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times over, yes. | | |
| The world looks so beautiful after APs are over.
All my fellow APENG + APARTH takers - how's your hand feeling?
Massive Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, yes?
8 hrs of intensive AP testing is just so bad for the soul ><
I feel so emotionally/ psychologically/ physically paralyzed I think I need to go to a spa & chillax for like a year or two before I can face academics again.
Let's all have a ceremonial burning of our student packets!!! :)
On the bright side,
Arvia gets to go see Wicked with Pauline and Vincent as a reward for bravely suffering through AP season :D | | |
| To a Dear Friend:
I want you to know,
I respect and cherish you with every fiber of my being
& I consider the day I met you one of the most important moments of my life.
You're an extension of myself and one of my very best friends.
I hope it stays that way for years to come.
No, there is no occasion that prompted this post -
I'm just grateful for you every day (:
Thank you for being alive. | | |
| wistful?I have this memory box in the corner of my room that houses all the trinkets and knick-knacks that I ever held dear.
I have photos of the chubby-cheeked tots that I know today as my sexy, ridiculously gorgeous friends, a valentine from my first major crush [whom I now suspect of being gay], various letters crumpled from excessive reading...
I have my life story contained in these objects.
It's ironic, though, how these temperal, material objects seem to last longer than some of the friendships they represent.
It's inevitable, isn't it? The loss of some friends we once considered soultwins. The strangers that gradually take the place of best buddies we cherished so dearly.
I think the biggest mistake we tend to make is to convince ourselves that the past can be recreated -- that we can somehow cling onto the phantoms of yesterday and keep them forever suspended in time.
But when comes the time when the consequences of holding on outweigh the price of letting go?
It is unfair to hold old friends by the same standards that you once judged them by three years ago.
It is unreasonable to think that a shared commitment to the past can triumph over the shifting value systems, different experiences, and clashing attitudes that are developed over the progression of time.
Maybe sometimes certain goodbyes need to be said.
I think I'll keep my memory box shut tonight. | | |
| Tears are a form of emotional urination: messy and unpleasant, but absolutely necessary in ridding your system of ikky emotional excrement.
So go ahead!
Have yourself a good cry today :) | | |
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