silent hills
asfin bild på mitt lilla charmiga pepparkakshus. (modern konst??????) det är det första pepparkakshus jag lyckats göra HELT SJÄLV. jag är bra... JAG ÄR BRAAAAA!
okej. det här blir sista inlägget i år.
sen kommer förmodligen en drös bilder från nyår.
JAG ÄR SÅ PEPP!!!!!!!!
vi (som i fyrkanten) har pyntat huset i två dagar nu :D
tusentals serpentiner, stjärnor, glitter, ljusslingor och 200 ballonger
(fast det räckte inte så jag ska köpa fler och sätta upp dom sista imon..)
det kommer bli så kul. SSSSSSSSSSSSSÅ KUL.
jag kan inte bärga mig, hoppas alla kommer :]
fifän, jag har verkligen inget att skriva.
men ni ska få seä, som man säger.
awesome \m/ /m\
mitt nyårslöfte hittils är att jag ska lära mig hälla i lagom mycket tevatten/kaffe i min kopp!
jag är sämst.
och jag ska kolla på folk.
(det är inte så creapy som de låter men jag orkar inte förklaralalala, puss)
sen så ska jag träna mer och äta mindre fett osv (lol) -.- blalala~
usch, jag skrev lol. men det passade in så VACKERT.
blö-
esme
"i ran my hand gently up the scales, testing the pitch. the tuning was still perfect.
upstairs, esme paused what she was doing and cocked her head to the side.
i began the first line of the tune that had suggested itself to me in the car today,
pleased that it sounded even better than i'd imagined.
edward is playing again, esme thought joyously, a smile breaking across her face.
she got up from her desk, and flitted silently to the head of the stairs.
i added a harmonizing line, letting the central melody weave through it.
esme sighed with contentment, sat down on the top step, and leaned her head
against the banister. a new song. it's been so long. what a lovely tune.
i let the melody lean in a new diection, following it with the bass line.
edward is composing again? rosalie thought, and her teeth clenched together in
fierce resentment.
in that moment, she slipped, and i could read all her underlying outrage. i saw
why she was in such a poor temper with me. why killing isabella swan had not bothered
her conscience at all.
with rosalie, it was always about vanity.
the music came to an abrupt halt, and i laughed before i could help myself, a sharp
bark of amusement that broke off quickly as i threw my hand over my mouth.
rosalie turned to glare at me, her eyes sparking with chagrined fury.
emmett and jasper turned to stare, too, and i heard esme's confusion. esme was
downstairs in a flash, pausing to glance between rosalie and me.
"don't stop edward," esme encouraged after a strained moment.
i started playing again, turning my back on rosalie while trying very hard to
control the grin stretching across my face. she got to her feet and stalked out of the
room, more angry than embarrassed. but certainly quite embarrassed.
if you say anything i will hunt you like a dog.
i smothered another laugh.
"what's wrong rose?" emmett called after her. rosalie didn't turn. she continued,
back ramrod straight, to the garage and then squirmed under her car as if she
could bury herself there.
"what's that about?" emmett asked me.
"i don't have the faintest idea," i lied.
emmett grumbled, frustrated.
"keep playing," esme urged. my hands had paused again.
i did as she asked, and she came to stand behind me, putting her hand on my
shoulders.
the song was compelling, but incomplete. i toyed with a bridge, but it didn't
seem right somehow.
"it's charming. does it have a name?" esme asked.
"not yet."
"is there a story to it?" she asked, a smile in her voice. this gave her very great
pleasure, and i felt guilty for having neglected my music for so long. it had been selfish.
"it's a... lullaby, i suppose." i got the bridge right then. it led easily to the next
movement, taking on a life of its own.
"a lullaby," she repeated to herself.
there was a story to this melody, and once i saw that, the pieces fell into place
effortlessly. the story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed, dark hair thick and wild and
twisted like seaweed across the pillow..."
stephenie meyer
upstairs, esme paused what she was doing and cocked her head to the side.
i began the first line of the tune that had suggested itself to me in the car today,
pleased that it sounded even better than i'd imagined.
edward is playing again, esme thought joyously, a smile breaking across her face.
she got up from her desk, and flitted silently to the head of the stairs.
i added a harmonizing line, letting the central melody weave through it.
esme sighed with contentment, sat down on the top step, and leaned her head
against the banister. a new song. it's been so long. what a lovely tune.
i let the melody lean in a new diection, following it with the bass line.
edward is composing again? rosalie thought, and her teeth clenched together in
fierce resentment.
in that moment, she slipped, and i could read all her underlying outrage. i saw
why she was in such a poor temper with me. why killing isabella swan had not bothered
her conscience at all.
with rosalie, it was always about vanity.
the music came to an abrupt halt, and i laughed before i could help myself, a sharp
bark of amusement that broke off quickly as i threw my hand over my mouth.
rosalie turned to glare at me, her eyes sparking with chagrined fury.
emmett and jasper turned to stare, too, and i heard esme's confusion. esme was
downstairs in a flash, pausing to glance between rosalie and me.
"don't stop edward," esme encouraged after a strained moment.
i started playing again, turning my back on rosalie while trying very hard to
control the grin stretching across my face. she got to her feet and stalked out of the
room, more angry than embarrassed. but certainly quite embarrassed.
if you say anything i will hunt you like a dog.
i smothered another laugh.
"what's wrong rose?" emmett called after her. rosalie didn't turn. she continued,
back ramrod straight, to the garage and then squirmed under her car as if she
could bury herself there.
"what's that about?" emmett asked me.
"i don't have the faintest idea," i lied.
emmett grumbled, frustrated.
"keep playing," esme urged. my hands had paused again.
i did as she asked, and she came to stand behind me, putting her hand on my
shoulders.
the song was compelling, but incomplete. i toyed with a bridge, but it didn't
seem right somehow.
"it's charming. does it have a name?" esme asked.
"not yet."
"is there a story to it?" she asked, a smile in her voice. this gave her very great
pleasure, and i felt guilty for having neglected my music for so long. it had been selfish.
"it's a... lullaby, i suppose." i got the bridge right then. it led easily to the next
movement, taking on a life of its own.
"a lullaby," she repeated to herself.
there was a story to this melody, and once i saw that, the pieces fell into place
effortlessly. the story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed, dark hair thick and wild and
twisted like seaweed across the pillow..."
stephenie meyer
oh deer..
idag fotade jag bambi, sen köpte jag bambi.
utöver detta for jag även till uppsala och surprisade min syster, som fyllde 19år.
krattis. hon blev klad.
han får förresten ett eget inlägg
jag hatar när folk får för sig att redigera bort hans leverfläck-
den är ju typ det finaste någonsin
och mitt pophjärta slår
sluta dröm om de ljuva livet
vi kommer aldrig va med om de
och be aldrig mer om ursäkt
-för sakerna du aldrig gjorde-
men de äter upp dig när du ligger i din säng
åh gud det gör så ont att nått så nära kan va så långt bort
