| Marlinda Harvey Yusof | |||||||||||||||||
| This homepage is still under heavy construction ... |
This property was reserved by Marlinda Harvey I'm 23 years old, from Malaysia. Physical Age: 23 Height: 170 Weight: 55 Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Brown Location: Hackett Hall Complex The University of Western Australia Nedlands, Western Australia 6907 Mental Interests: Computers, reading, movies, art and exploration. Description: Subject believes herself to be above average inteligence, but may be biased in that belief (she rides mom's car). A Few Favorite Movies (not in order): Powder,Empire of the Sun, 12 Monkeys, The Cure, Secrets & Lies A Few Favorite Authors: Anne Rice, Richard Bach, Dan Millman Romantic Status:Single Description: Subject is capable and wouldn�t mind developing a romantic relationship, but she is not actively pursuing this. Subject firmly believes relationships develop of time needs to develop naturally if it is going to be real Spiritual Description: Subject believes the spiritual division of a human being is the most important part, and certainly the part that has the greatest impact on the rest of humanity. The irony is that, despite her strong belief in the importance of embracing the spiritual side of one�s self, she has chosen to temporarily spend more energy in the mental and sexual divisions. Family :- Dad : Yusof Bin Saad Mom : Dura Dene Harvey Brother : Bit Harvey Yusof Sister : Marliza Harvey Yusof More about my life...Sections one and two. Friction and Seventeen. And other things too. The first section is called *I wanna be in Seventeen* -- Thanks Gabe. I do not look like Vanna White. Do you want to know how much I wish I did? Ever since I was really little. Because I was short. Short and little are synonyms. I have wanted to be Vanna White.She's glam--hardcore. And I'll bet she has a lot of friends. And I'll bet she did when she was in high school. She is the epitome of leg. And I think I could pull it off. Cripes. My teeth are too big. And my breasts aren't. So maybe I can't be Vanna White. Dream is trampled. Is this a media-evoked idea? Would I think about this if there wasn't a blond stick-figure selling perfume on the back cover of Allure Magazine? Would I wish for Vanna-dom if I never looked at a Seventeen Magazine? I don't think so. Seventeen Magazine did a photo shoot at my school. And there's a girl, Theresa (not her name), who really wanted to be in it. So she got her hair cut, and a new dress. And she didn't get in. And she actually *cried*. That's a little sad. Only it's not. She's such a nice girl. The nicest I know. Not really, but I'm trying to make a point. So she's super-sweet. And very pretty. But not enough, I guess. My brother, who is her friend, went and told the SevMag people and told them that she was upset. And they let her in. Page 74, I think. I have 7 anorexic friends. Enough said. Section two is a fictitious account about fiction called *Friction* There once was a fake boy called Hisham. And he had a fake life called Hisham's life. And some really fake situations. So people got together and said some stuff and decided to write a fictitious story about him. So they did. And it was fake and he was fake and So lying isn't the best way to go. When one gets caught in a world of spun-sugar. When he can't distinguish between his life and his lies. And he has trouble remembering who he told what, because everyone gets a different story. When he has significantly coated every aspect of his life with Vaseline so that the normally matte finish glistens in the light, he is bound to slip on it. And fall. And there is no TV lawyer who covers that case. The black sky lightens up my soul, it shines into my eyes it relaxes me and sends me off into a far away land. A land where I am all alone, in a quiet, calm and loving place. Where no one bothers me, and no one judges me......... and no one loves me. I am alone, in a quiet place. Where the trees whisper to the wind, and the rain falls, but never makes a sound, and the birds sing but not to be heard. I think of nothing, just of my love for this quiet place. | ||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||
|
Hans, They told me that you tried to kill yourself today. I came down here because I wanted to talk to you. I'm afraid that you're going to die and never know who I am - never talk to me about anything real. We've never really talked about anything real, you and I. I want to know that I love you. I want you to know that I appreciate the things you taught me - like respect, and honor, and honesty. But you really treated me badly sometimes ... the way you yelled at me and call me names. I didn't deserve that stuff. But mostly, I feel like we don't even know each other. We just play these roles like boyfriend and girlfriend. And you don't even know who I am. I want to make a deal with you. I want you to fight to stay alive for me. If you will do that, I will help you. I will help you stay alive. I want some time to get to know who you really are, and not just talk about school and sex. I will help you fight if you will. I thought I could eat I thought I could sleep I thought I could breath Liz, "You know how some men smell like warmed-over antipersperant, and some smell like the carcass of a dead game animal? This guy, I mean THIS GUY smells like heaven. A dark, mysterious, cinnamon- and ginger-tinted heaven."He's got muscle definition, but not so bulging that it's self indulgent. He's got smooth legs with just the right wisps of hair. His butt: to die for! He's not long, but he is thick and he knows how to steer. "His eyes are like wading pools, refreshing and inviting but not too deep. His smile is small and subtle, but completely unfaked. Without saying much of anything, he makes you feel totally welcome without being pushy about it at all. He never forces anything on you, not even a joke. He makes YOU want HIM. And believe me, you will. | I sobbed. There was no wake. I wanted none. I sobbed even more as I pondered the day's events. | ||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||
| Nobody likes you very much if you're too popular. |
Mother, I took off my clothes and stood naked in the sun, trying to see how long I could stand the heat--instead, I shivered; I rolled a circle with my body, my feet its center, trying to scar the sand; I snapped triangles of glass from windows and stabbed the shards into the ground, making shiny mandalas, figure-eights, sharp traps for angels. I did these things, and all around walls were blasted smooth by sandstorms, wood free of splinters, shingles taken long before. Sometimes, Mother, I feel my edges going, as if my body cannot contain me. Dear A, Please, please don't be so depressed -- We'll be married soon, and then these lonesome nights will be over forever -- and until we are, I am loving, loving every tiny minute of the day and night -- Maybe you won't understand this, but sometimes when I miss you most, it's hardest to write -- and you always know when I make myself -- Just the ache of it all -- and I can't tell you. If we were together, you'd feel how strong it is -- you're so sweet when you're melancholy. I love your sad tenderness -- when I've hurt you -- That's one of the reasons I could never be sorry for our quarrels -- and they bothered you so -- Those Sweetheart, dear little fusses, when I always tried so hard to make you kiss and forget -- Darling -- there's nothing in all the world I want but you -- and your precious love -- All the material things are nothing. I'd just hate to live a sordid, colorless existence -- because you'd soon love me less -- and less -- and I'd do anything -- anything -- to keep your heart for my own -- I don't want to live -- I want to love first, and live incidentally -- Why don't you feel that I'm waiting -- I'll come to you, Lover, when you're ready -- Don't don't ever think of the things you can't give me -- You've trusted me with the dearest heart of all -- and it's so damn much more than anybody else in all the world has ever had -- How can you think deliberately of life without me -- If you should die -- O Darling -- darling dear -- It'd be like going blind. I know I would, too, -- I'd have no purpose in life -- just a pretty -- decoration. Don't you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered -- and I was delivered to you -- to be worn -- I want you to wear me, like a watch -- charm or a button hole boquet -- to the world. And then, when we're alone, I want to help -- to know that you can't do anything without me. | ||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||
| Favourite links | ||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||
|
This page has been visited
|