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about the webmistress

There’s so much more about this smile. You just don’t know. This is the web portal of a fifteen-year-old feline who grew whiskers and paws. As much as she loves dwelling in her solemn, gloomy little own world – she is also thought to be a nonsensical and ill-mannered child who eats anything but food.

Yo. It’s Rachee.

Rachelle Angeli B. Marañon for short. HAHA. I love purple. I accept friends and comments. I laugh, I love, I shop, I cry. I do everything I want; I’m still young, wild and free. I know my boundaries, mistakes and flaws. I spill secrets. I’m bubbly. I’m not aiming for the perfect me but the better me. I do what’s right or maybe wrong, but I still make of it. I laugh at myself if I did something silly. I can control my temper and everything that should be controlled. Everyone knows that life is crazy but wonderful. It can be unfair, but not at all times. I can be your worst enemy or best friend. I am weird, but not that simple. I have realized something that I should have been realizing earlier, still seeking for true friends and for my knight in shining armour. Patiently waiting and I wish they’ll come sooner or later. I don’t believe at love at first sight, nor at times even at true love. Everyone has an individual ability to make a person happy, and I can make you happy, but sometimes I can make you cry. Some people hate me but I don’t mind them because they’re insecure. I take many pictures. I had swollen my pride; my past memories are still treasured. You are welcome in my heart and I swore I won’t forget you. Keep that curve on your face; keep smiling!

Xoxo,
Gossip Girl

♥ Rachee

cyber diary

1/11/2011

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

1/11/2011

Melancholy

I would rather have someone mad at me than disappointed. Because when they’re mad, they eventually forgive you. And when their disappointed, it’s almost impossible to have them look at you the same way again.

I hate that look in their eyes where I can tell exactly what their thinking. It’s twice as louder than if they were to yell at me at the top of their lungs. That look they give me with no emotion. Like not even a half smile, just that “I don’t even know who you are anymore” type of look. When they can barely stand to look at you in the eye, and when they start to tell you all the things you were better off not knowing because after a while, you become disappointed in yourself.

Labels: forever alone

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