Monday, December 28, 2009

Libra Man.

Libra man horoscope

The Libra man has a keen sense of aesthetics, of harmony and equilibrium. He is a smart man, who dresses with good taste and smells good. Beauty is very important to him, both of ideas and aspect. The Libra man is very refined, a very interesting combination of wit and sensitiveness. One half is sensual and sentimental, and the other is rational.

The Libra man is a sociable, kind and courteous man, with a deep sense of justice and fair play. He likes being surrounded by beautiful things, living in comfort and he even has an inclination towards luxury.

Above all, however, the Libra man is a romantic. They say the troubadour in love with his Lady will not die as long as there are Libra men in the world. Mr. Libra’s romanticism requires champagne, waltz and moonlight. He loves beautiful and feminine women, who are a little mysterious and inaccessible...

The Libra man is without peer in paying court to a woman, setting real masterpieces of the kind. He is usually generous, and if you don’t try to abuse this generosity (remember that he sets high value on fair play), he will be lavish, without regretting the money spent on his own or his lover’s luxury, beauty or entertainment.

The Libra man is a refined lover, an expert in prelude, resistant and considerate to his partner. Faithfulness is not his strong point because he is vulnerable to women, he falls in love very easily and he can’t say no. The problem is that the Libra man can’t decide to break up with somebody, accepting compromises, because his inner harmony resents crises and reproaches.


Libra man horoscope by Linda Goodman

You'll get plenty of free advice from this man. Hell have the perfect solution to all your problems and an answer for every question you ask. But there's no use expecting him to be the answer to all your girlish dreams. He'll change some of them and argue with others. A Libra male can be as cranky as a crocodile with poison ivy, and his habit of rationalizing everything, including love, will drive you to frenzy-or leave you limp with defeat.

Still, I must warn you that once you're caught and en meshed in the Libran charm, it won't be easy to break away. Trying to escape from a bear trap is a cinch, com pared to liberating yourself from a Libran man. If you try to run, he'll persuade you to stay with such logical, intelli gent arguments you couldn't hope to top them unless you graduated from Harvard Law School. In addition to using his unmatched reasoning powers on you, he'll turn so sweet and gentle you'll forget the frustrating inconsistencies of his nature that upset you before. Then he'll smile at you and something will happen inside. Your heart will turn over.

From that moment on, the battle will be lost. His dreams will be your dreams, and nothing will matter so much as making him happy. You'll seek that smile and need it to survive the way a thirsty traveler needs water. Only a really hard-hearted Hannah could resist a Libran smile, and she'd have to summon all her determination to avoid being magnetized by its purity. The Libran charm is not like the hypnotic persuasion of the Scorpio. The attraction of Libra is logicul and real, not supernatural in any sense. There's no black magic about it, just common sense submission to his heavenly aura.

On the other hand, to use his favorite catch phrase, there will be times when those Libra scales dip back and forth with crazy contradiction. You'll have to shout at him, push him into the lake, or stand on your head to get his atten tion and force him to make a move. Don't be so naive as to think love will be smooth and eternally tranquil, even if he is ruled by Venus. If you're up on your Roman mythology, you're aware that Venus had her off days. Still, when the scales balance, life with Libra can be as intoxicat ing as a goblet of golden ambrosia, with lots of laughs and a casual freedom known only to the gods who cavort on Olympus.

Making up his mind is a chore no less strenuous to the average Libran male than taming a wild buffalo, and once he's made it up, he's liable to change it with no warning if he suspects he's made a mistake. There's a woman I know Who hoped to go into a business partnership with a Libran, and she learned the hard way about this legendary Libra idiosyncrasy. They had a breakfast appointment together one summer morning, and both of them were full of en thusiastic, optimistic plans for the future. After he dropped her off on the way to his office, she began to worry. His promises were almost too good to be true, so she phoned him, just to make sure she hadn't been dreaming. He was still excited, he repeated all his promises and ambitious plans, and they made a date to get together again the fol lowing week. Before they hung up, he guessed what was on her mind and reassured her. "By the way," he re marked, "I want to say something, since I won't see you again for a few days." He hesitated slightly (she missed that clue), then continued with conviction. "I wanted to tell you that, well-I guess what I wanted to say is don't worry. I won't change my mind. We'll go through with it, just the way we planned."

The next week, when he didn't call, she phoned him again. "Were you out of town?" she asked. "No," he said slowly. "I didn't call you because I wanted to think it over." A long pause. "I think I should try something with a smaller budget first. We'll get together on our project next spring. I promise. It's just that, well, I've decided it's best to wait until then, and put it on the shelf for a while, you know?"

Filled with natural resentment and disappointment after such an unexpected letdown, she made a decision of her own. She would never speak to him again. The man was obviously undependable, untrustworthy and cruel, besides. A month later she passed him on the street, and he stopped to say hello. Caught off guard, she stammered an aloof, cool sentence or two of greeting, and instantly regretted that she hadn't cut him dead. Then he smiled. That did it. She was once more his strongest booster. He could do no wrong, even to her. To this day she defends him fiercely, and if she hears that one of his dreams got shattered, she has an illogical desire to help him pick up the pieces so he'll smile again.

Now, if that could occur when a woman is involved with a Libra man only in a business way, can you imagine your state of mind and your ability to insulate yourself if you should happen to fall in love with one of these impossible charmers? You simply can't be too careful. Steel yourself to turn your head when he smiles. Stuff cotton in your ears when he starts his convincing arguments in that smooth-as-silk voice that makes the back of your neck tingle.

The word love and the word Libra are practically syn onymous. Libra invented romance, and refined it to an art with even more finesse than Leo, Scorpio and Taurus, which is saying a lot. The delicate strategies of Cupid are inbred Libran talents. He'll use every trick with casual ease and seldom fail to get the girl. However, once he gets her, he isn't always sure what to do with her. Having thoroughly charmed her into willing submission, he hesi tates. Should he take advantage of her helpless state or should he propose marriage? Or both? Or neither? The mental struggle begins, and life in the garden of Eden with this particular Adam becomes' considerably less than ecstatic.

He won't lose interest in the opposite sex until he's at least ninety. It may be purely an academic interest if he's happily married, but the subject will never bore him, even if he only speculates what it would be like to whirl each pretty girl he sees around an imaginary ballroom.

Since the art of love-making comes so easily-and shockingly early-to the Libra male, and since he almost always wears the crown of success on his romantic excur sions into love's jungle, he gets tangled up with a lot of clinging vines. Libra hates to hurt anyone's feelings, though he remains blissfully unaware of the damage done when he's in an argumentative mood. He hates to say no, and seldom realizes that postponement is more unkind than an outright break of an affair which has no chance of hap piness. In the opposite situation when the mutual feeling is as close to sublime as humans ever reach on this earth, the prolonged agony can be equally tortuous. Only an Aquarian can be more shy of making a drastic move in one direction or another. If he senses he's being unfair to someone in his own life, to you-or to someone in your recent romantic past-there will be no end to his painful indecision. Being unfair is, to him, a crime roughly on a level with murder. The reluctance to be cruel can push him into a mistaken proposal of marriage, predestined for the divorce courts •-or else his endless procrastination can cause him to miss (he love of his life. So you can see his attitude is a two-edged sword, which can either slice away true love or cut him a piece of indigestible matrimony. Tossing out false sentiment is the cure for both.

The tendency toward fickleness in Libra men can't be denied. They do tend to trifle, especially in youth. The natural Libra impulse is to to size up every third or fourth woman they come across, and weigh her possibilities of being the true soul mate. They often get friendship and love hopelessly confused. Surprisingly, it's not often that the Libran will suffer from a broken heart, for all his dabbling and experimenting. He can forget with insulting quickness, and be less apt than anyone, except perhaps a Gemini or Sagittarius male, to allow himself to regret the memory of unrequited love or a romance that was fated never to be. He may sustain a few bruised spots, but there will be no permanent damage, except in very unusual cases. Then the hurt can be devastating beyond imagina tion. But it happens so rarely you won't find many ex amples. It's easier to find a soft-hearted, guileless Libra man in the clutches of a passionately determined female who has made him feel that deserting her would be a sin second only to breaking all the ten commandments at once. Caught in such a net, he can be a pretty miserable prisoner of love. But both extremes are the exceptions, and most Libra men manage to keep free enough to enjoy romance to the fullest, without letting sentimental ties rope them in.

He isn't too interested in rooting out your secrets. He may seem to be, at first glance, but take a second look. Often he misses what's going on two inches under his nose.

Everyone will notice what's happening but him. Though he'll argue until hell freezes over, his purpose is not to dig out personal motives, but to dwell on abstract theories so that he can reach a balanced judgment. His questions aren't aimed at uncovering anyone's hidden neurosis. He just wants to sort the facts and assemble them in the proper places. He'll discuss pros and cons with brilliant logic and astute rationalization, and his conclusion will usually be fair, accurate, sensible and practical. Not even Solomon in all his wisdom could top a typical Libran's final, balanced decision. But he doesn't have the inclination to figure the personal nuances or emotional tangles that lie just beneath the surface. The facts and the facts alone are sufficient. The Piscean, Scorpio or Aquarian's deep penetration of character would, to his mind, muddy the crystal-clear picture he seeks. He instinctively feels that such psychological examination is out of his line. It is.

If you're extravagant, he'll simply deduce that you spend money like water; therefore you aren't a good credit risk. The fact that you seek emotional security by wasting cash isn't in his field. He's not your psychiatrist. If you're stingy, he's only interested in carefully examining your thrift to form an accurate appraisal of your customs. There's no desire to uncover your secret fear of losing your inde pendence through poverty. Promiscuity will make him argue against its pitfalls; frigidity will, bring on even lengthier discussions about isolation from human com panionship. But he'll avoid learning about the traumatic experiences that brought on the former, or the deep-seated feelings of inadequacy that triggered the latter. Libra is the judge. You'll see lots of judges handing down fair decisions, based on weighing the facts in the case, but you won't find many of them asking you why the color red makes you nervous, or sympathizing with your com pulsion to lock your husband out because he wore those red-striped pajamas. Always remember that the Libran argues with only an abstract curiosity. He appears to be a prober, but he's not. Nor is he as nosy and gossipy as he seems to be. It's like breaking the seal of the confessional to pry a secret given in confidence from the typical Libran.

All this makes him terribly trustworthy, but a little hard on your feelings. You can confide in him with faith. But you'll suffer when he misses sensing your innermost needs. He wants to please you, but there's seldom enough under-standing of your silent hopes to satisfy all your longings (unless there's a water sign on the ascendant, or the Moon is in a water sign). Just because he's an expert lover technically doesn't make him the soul of empathy in relation to your moods. He has enough trouble coping with his own. Nothing can be more irritating than when you rush to him with a story about how someone has hurt you deeply. You seek sympathy, and what do you get? His first question will be, "What did you do to him (or her)?" Then he'll point out where you were just as much in the wrong, until you could scream with unsatisfied indignation. Go ahead and scream, he still won't take sides if he thinks you've been unfair, and the emotional implications will escape him.

Trouble invariably arises from this Libran lack of aware ness of the partner's need to be understood in depth. It may seem unbelievable that he can be so intuitive about the abstract, so brilliantly logical in deduction, so capable of clear, open-minded and open-eyed deliberation, and still be so aggravatingly obtuse about what makes you ache or thrill inside. But it's one of those inconsistencies you have to live with, if you live with a Libran. His gentleness and that smile, of course, make it easier to bear.

Unless there are financial afflictions in his natal chart, he won't be tight with the budget. On the contrary, the typical Libran has a rather lavish hand with cash. He believes in spending it on objects or activities that bring beauty or happiness. Be prepared to be a good hostess, because his home will be a regular hospitality center at most any hour of the day or night (except during those times when he's resting and won't take kindly to being disturbed by doorbells, telephones or people). Don't drag him to crowded places where he's forced to feel the press of flesh and where the noise offends his sense of harmony. Crowds of strangers affect his inner equilibrium. All Librans have an instinctive distaste for physical contact with masses of humanity. His social life will be generously sprinkled with intelligent, sparkling people, but when the group expands to over a couple of dozen warm bodies, he'll Struggle for air. A Libra man can suddenly leave you alone in a crowded theater with no explanation. He doesn't hate you. He was just overcome with claustrophobia, a typical Ubran affliction.

The fastest road to the disinterest that leads to divorce Ffs a disorderly home. Keep the radio and TV sets toned down, and don't let the odor of cooking penetrate hia sensitive nostrils. If you must make onion soup and garlic bread, spray pine-scented deodorant around until the house smells like the great northern woods. A wife who serves a Libran husband bread right out of the wrapper, makes him use paper towels for napkins and leaves the milk bottle or cereal box out where he can see them is beaded for the life of a not-so-gay divorcee sooner than she may think. Hanging stockings across the shower rod is out. Forgetting to dust or make the beds can keep him in a constant state of emotional discord. Hell retreat from the disharmony with longer and longer naps and more and more nights out alone, and eventually, there will be no communication. He may be as sloppy as six pigs himself, but he'll expect you to pick up his socks and fold the papers be scatters on the floor. If the chartreuse draperies clash with a maroon rug, he can pout for years, and you'll never know why. Better keep the decor pastel. With the typical Libran kindness, he may not complain, but his secretary and her exquisite taste may look more attractive to him every day.

The Libra male hates confusion, and he really needs harmony to remain stable. His home must be a beautiful, quiet oasis from the jangling discord of the outside world, or those scales may remain permanently out of balance. Since he seldom probes motives, you'll have to be smart enough to guess why he's never home or why he sleeps all the time when he is. Remember that he's weak on intro spection, so you must be the analyst. He'll never suspect his unhappiness stems from seeing you covered with cold cream and the youngsters covered with jelly. He may not realize he hates the orange shower curtain or that the lithograph of George Washington crossing the Delaware which hangs over the mantle goes against his artistic grain. He won't quite understand why he keeps forgetting to kiss you goodnight and good morning, but his logical mind will tell him something is off balance, and he'll suffer from it more than he lets on. Pick up the papers and toys, spruce, Up the house, dab on your best perfume, take the curlers out of your hair, turn down the television, buy some heavenly blue shower curtains and get a good Degas print to replace George over the mantle. Youll wake up some morning and find you're married to a completely new man With a .otally changed attitude.

The children will always benefit from his sense of fair ness. He'll make sure the biggest youngsters don't take advantage of the baby, or the youngest doesn't break the oldest's bicycle spokes. Libran fathers will exercise dis cipline with quiet authority, and they'll try to give a logical reason for punishment, which will seldom be administered in anger. Like you, the children will melt under his charm; and like you, they'll also chafe under his constant debating and challenging. Strangely, a Libra man usually doesn't look forward enthusiastically to the birth of children. But after they arrive, he weighs the advantage of their love against loneliness, plunges into fatherhood with a sincere desire to enjoy it, and normally ends up as a doting parent. However, he'll never allow parental affection to replace his romantic feelings for you. With typical Librans of both sexes, the mate comes first, offspring second. You needn't fear that his love for you will decrease as the family in creases-assuming, of course, you got rid of those char treuse draperies or the maroon rug, one or the other- and that the dirty dishes don't continually pile up in the sink.

One final word of astrological advice. If you're in love with a Libra man, and you're sure it's meant to be, go right ahead and propose whatever it is you want to propose, up to and including marriage. Hell be relieved that you took the initiative. But watch out for that perverse streak-which causes him to let you decide, and then when it doesn't work out, cheerfully point out that "You made the decision. I didn't." Make sure you know what you're doing, or you'll never hear the end of it. There's only one way to even the score with him. Say "Yes, I decided. If I had left it up to you, we'd still be standing under that lamppost in the rain saying 'I love you,' and we'd both have caught pneumonia." He'll argue with you, naturally, but just before or after you bounce the teapot off his head, he'll accidentally smile, and there you'll be-stand ing under that lamppost in the rain again, saying "I love you," once more.

Leo Woman.

Leo woman horoscope

The Leo woman is one of the most fascinating human beings! She is among the women who know how to highlight their value, regardless of their financial or intellectual power. God has endowed the Leo woman with an emotional capacity that, if left alone, becomes a real engine of manifesting her erotic, physic and sentimental vitality.

The Leo woman will never hesitate in front of a piece of clothing or jewellery if it fits her perfectly, no matter what the price is. Subconsciously, the more expensive an object is, the more it deserves being bought and worn, which stimulates and amplifies her pleasure of acting different roles on the stage of life.

The Leo woman will always play the role of great love or of misunderstood artist successfully, from the image of a mother to that of the ideal lover. Passionate, beautiful, solar, shining, intuitive, creative and erotically imaginative, the Leo woman can become the aim of any man who wants to make a good impression in the society, taking at his arm a woman of a sumptuous royalty, dressed up according to the latest fashion.

Who would guess that the Leo woman’s born charm lies in the capacity to turn down exactly what she wants and that her way of saying "no" - na?ve and innocent - is charming by its authenticity? Her little snub nose, her big eyes with long lashes, the slightly open lips can shatter all the promises made (to other wives) by unconscious men or weak-willed males.


Leo woman horoscope by Linda Goodman

There's one thing the Leo woman probably owns that you won't like. A scrapbook of pictures and mementos from all her old boyfriends. It's no use trying to get her to burn it, because the lioness is sentimental.

She's not a wallflower. She's a sunflower. Chances are she's ridiculously popular, and you'll have plenty of com petition if you want her to descend to using your name for the rest of her life. You will be a few leaps ahead if your name is St. Hoyme or Mountbatten, Cabot or Lodge. Anything that sounds royal or noble or important. I hon estly can't imagine a Leo woman marrying anybody with the name Carbunkle or Smith. It's possible. Anything is possible. But she'll probably change Smith to Smythe.

Most likely, she'll be the social leader of her group, lording it over lesser women like a queen, but with such disarming warmth and such a beautiful smile, no one really minds. Perhaps the other girls sense she was born to rule and dictate styles, customs and manners. Anyway, it wouldn't do much good to try to usurp her authority.

Nature seems to have shown some prejudice when she fashioned the lioness with enough vivacity, cleverness, grace, beauty, and just plain sex appeal for at least three women, with some left over. If you're the victim of an inferiority complex, you'd better set your sights on a bird with less brilliant feathers. Don't expect to tame her into a docile little maid who hangs on your every word. The man who expects a Leo girl to worship at his feet is living in a fool's paradise. Consider yourself lucky if she meets you halfway, respects you, is willing to be your partner and allows you to possess her emotionally. By the very act of permitting you to love her, she's practically knighted you, for heaven's sake. Seriously, you could do-a lot worse. A lioness is a lot of woman. She's rather a luxury item, not available in the bargain basement.

It pays to remember that the Leo female can act up a storm, and pretend to be as sweet and harmless as a bowl of jelly beans. She may have a voice like a whisper, gentle, courteous manners and big, soft eyes that sparkle delight fully when she bats her lashes. A Leo female can appear to be as smooth and calm as a cool and placid lake. On guard. That's just a role she assumed because it got good reviews. Remove her as the star of your love production, cast her in the part of the understudy or second lead, and you'll soon find out just how shy and submissive she isn't. Of course, most of the Leo women to whom you pay homage will openly make it clear that they're too proud and dignified to take any nonsense. I'd just hate to see you stumble in case you get involved with the other kind of lioness, who hides hei claws, but sharpens them every day just the same.

The first step when you're courting this girl is to go prepared with gifts. It doesn't make much difference what they a-e, so long as they're expensive, in excellent taste, and you're dressed properly when you offer them. Then you should practice different ways of complimenting her. Please be original and creative. Phrases like "You send me, Baby," and "You're really cool, sweetheart," will get you thrown right out of the palace, back with the peasants, Vulgarity and slang both leave her ice cold. Remember, you're wooing royalty. She can't exist without flattering appreciation, but keep in mind that she admires your masculinity, and she has no desire to turn you into a hen pecked weakling. A Leo woman couldn't love you if you weren't strong. It's just that she won't permit you to insult her with a condescending attitude. In her mind, she is definitely not the weaker sex.

Lots of Leo girls are athletic and enjoy sports, but you'd be smarter to take your lioness to the theater than to the ball park. The stage and footlights will never fail to magnetize and transfigure her. (Better buy orchestra seats. Forget the balcony.) Choose a play in which the heroine behaves the way you want her to behave that night, and your chances are better than average that she'll act the part unconsciously and never miss an inflection. After the festivities are over, don't take her to a hamburger stand and expect her to sit at the counter munching french fries because she's so much in love with you. You're better off to take her out less often to more glamorous places. She's not necessarily a gold digger; in fact, she's usually generous -she won't object to frequent Dutch dates and she'll probably shower you with almost as many gifts as you give her. But she's just plain uncomfortable in shabby sur­roundings. The poorest Leo woman in the world will manage to accumulate enough pennies to buy draperies for the windows, rings for her fingers and bells for her toes. Now and then she may go slumming, out of curiosity, but only as a spectator, aloof from the crowd. Poverty de presses her and makes her physically ill. If you dress like a slob and offer her a shack, you haven't got a chance.

There's a story about a noble Frenchwoman who turned to her lover in the gardens of Versailles and asked, "Dar ling, do the common people know this exquisite emotion of love?" When she was assured that they did, she cried out in injured surprise, "It's entirely too good for them!" She was probably a Leo.

Don't blame the lioness for her occasional arrogance and vanity. It's her nature to feel herself above the common masses. People seldom resent it, because the Leo woman who's warmly loved and respected can be the kindest and most generous of females, with a womanly compassion for children and for the helpless and the forsaken. You can't really expect her to step down from a throne that's her birthright. If she's a typical Sun child, she's so gracious and dazzling that most people gladly give her credit for being out of the ordinary. Truthfully, she is. She's intelli gent, witty, strong, and capable, yet deliciously feminine at the same time. No one in his right mind could call that common.

A little flattery will get you everywhere with your Leo lady. You've already found out it's her secret weakness. And here's another secret, if you plan to marry her:

eventually, she'll tire of her gilded cage and want to roam the jungle to see what's doing with all the other cats out there. Confinement inside four walls and under one roof can soon rob her of her sparkle. Let her have her career. Shell wither on the vine if she's forced to be just a haus-frau, unless you have enough money to allow her to be a constant hostess and an extravagant home decorator.

The Leo girl usually makes a jewel of a wife. You'll sel dom see her dressed frumpily in a tatty bathrobe, wearing curlers and wrinkle cream. Not that she skips the beauty treatments. The typical lioness will spend hours in front of the mirror and a fortune on cosmetics, but she wants you to see the results, not the strategy. There may be times when you feel you're supporting her hairdresser's entire family. Many a husband of a Leo woman finds himself pleading, "Honey, do you have to spend so much money at the beauty parlor?" But few lionesses like to do their own hair. A shampoo and set makes them feel pampered, and feeling pampered does something for every Leo.

Unless she has a Cancer, Virgo or Capricorn ascendant, you may have to watch her with charge accounts. Leos easily slip overboard when it comes to spending for fine feathers, furnishings for the home or gifts for friends. Her wardrobe can be quite extensive. She can look luscious in evening gowns, dripping with sequins and rhinestones, or low-cut, dressy outfits. But she'll probably prefer casual clothes and sportswear, if she's a typical Leo girl. She likes tailored cuts and rich materials, but not necessarily frills and ruffles. Soft cashmeres, good Italian knits and im ported English tweeds are her favorites. Her taste is usually excellent, if a bit expensive. An occasional Leo woman will overdo and bury her sense of style in gaudy, shocking clothes, but she's an exception to the general rule of the traditional leonine exquisite flair for fashion.

You'll find her a superb hostess when you bring the boss home for dinner. He'll think you're a genius to have won her. She'll probably make a hit with his wife, too, because the lioness is popular with both men and women, and each sex gets treated to her friendly smile and her outgoing personality equally. Anyone who happens to be standing in her bright sunlight feels the warmth. Leos seldom cast a shadow.

As a mother, shell pour love on her children generously and lavish affection on them. It won't be easy for her to see their faults, but when she does, she'll be strict. Since she can't stand being taken for granted, if the children don't respect her she can pout in regal silence. Many Leo mothers have a peculiar way of spoiling the child without sparing the rod, quite a contradiction when you think about it. She may romp and play with her cubs, have long, chummy talks with them, but shell also teach them to snap to attention like soldiers, polish their manners, and be obedient to their elders. At the same time, there's a danger of providing a shade too much spending money, and giving in to requests for luxuries. In a way, you might say she treats her offspring like petted members of a royal family, deeply loved, but expected to mind their p's and q's, especially in public. She'll be fiercely proud of their accomplishments, and heaven help the outsider who at tempts to hurt them or judge them unfairly. With all this, she won't smother the youngsters. She's too independent to hover over them every second. She'll lead her own life, keeping a watchful eye out for her cubs, from a distance. Many Leo women are working mothers, but their young sters seldom starve for attention. The career-minded Leos usually manage to balance motherhood and a job with perfect aplomb.

There are times when she'll lose her dignity and poise and become a rollocking, playful lioness, with a flair for pure slapstick. She can roar with laughter like a healthy animal, but when the moment is gone, the satin voice and regal bearing return. No one can squelch a fresh re mark or a rude question with as much cold contempt as a Leo female. She doesn't appreciate familiarity from stran gers. Although she'll clown around and be surprisingly casual with intimates, outsiders are expected to keep their place.

In the area of faithfulness, the Leo woman may remind you of the old toast, "Here's to me and here's to you, and here's to love and laughter-I'll be true as long as you- not a single minute after." Enough said.

Don't be jealous of her knack for being the center of attention in a roomful of admiring males. Heads always turn when the lioness smoothly glides by. She feels it's only natural for men to pay court to her. She may encour age masculine compliments and indulge in light, innocent flirtations, because her deep need for applause and adula tion covers a strange fear that she's not feminine enough and she must constantly reassure herself that she's de sirable. It doesn't mean she's not still in love with you, just because she smiles at your best friend and tells him she adores his new sports jacket. But don't try telling her best friend you like her new 나 irt. That's a whole different ball game. What's sauce for the gander is not sauce for the goose, to reverse the old nursery rhyme. If she hears you call your secretary anything much more intimate than "Miss What's-her-name," your purring kitten may scratch.

Of course, it's not fair. But if you want to be the proud possessor of all those gorgeous brilliantly-colored feathers, you have to make a few concessions. After all, owning a peacock is hardly the same thing as owning a cuckoo bird or a cooing pigeon. Humor her vanity. She'll probably be important in her own right, because few Leo women can resist competing with men for prestige, if not income. Your lioness could be anything from an actress to a surgeon.

One of my best friends and favorite Leos is a well-known New York psychiatrist. Granted, it's a career which permits her to lecture and advise (Leo's favorite pastime), but she gives her counsel with such a warm smile, sparkling eyes and deep compassion, her patients feel better just being in the same room with her. Her husband pays her all the respect and adoration she demands as her royal right, but he has a profession of his own to match hers. He's a gifted writer and poet, talents which always impress the senti­mental Leo. They share equal billing in front of the foot lights, yet he's the man and the boss behind the scenes. A perfect success formula for taming the lioness.

And that's the key to a smooth relationship with your Leo girl. Don't let her smother you-but don't try to top her. Just paste a big, bright star on her dressing room door, and puff up your ego. You're quite a guy, you know-to have won the hand of the proud lioness. Tell me, how did you manage to do it?
For the past two weeks I've been crying, the same goes for today.

It's been 3 weeks I haven't been able to smile.

I cannot stop thinking of the times we had at Batam.
I cannot believe that I do not have Desmond with me.

I'm so empty now.
And each day to me, is as good as nothing.

Why can't things be the way they used to be?

If I could turn back time...
I would.


if you want me to steal,
I would.
if you want me to kill,
I would.
if you want me to lie,
let me lie in your arms.

*

I have never meant to hurt you. I know you're not feeling good either. I asked myself what I should do to make it up to you. But there's nothing I could do besides loving you. Thing has reached a stage which even if we get back together, it won't be the same as before. I guess the only thing we can do now is to let the dust settle. Please forgive me, for all I ever want to do/be, is to love you and be the best for you.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Mortal sins.

Being judgmental of others is a sign of insecurities validation.

All these recent happenings,
gave weight of what I've always said about earthlings.

The one beside you whom you've trusted,
will betray you inevitably.

*

I went to this cheena restaurant named 店小二 today to have dine dine with my family and no pictures were taken because we were all so hungry to even want to snap photos of the dishes. Aights, my bad for no photo evidence to support this - the food was surprisingly good! And before I could even finish half a bowl of my rice, I was so bloated already. =(

My youngest sister bought a wallet for his girlfriend. Lucky girl to have my youngest sister's adoration. Am starting work on Monday, kinda feel 'bored' towards the job already. But in the meantime, I'm going to keep a lookout for other better appealing jobs. Tracy was asking me to go be some broker or something. I've sent my resume in and realized (to my horror) that I have misspelled the job title which I applied for. What.the.hell? Schit! They are so not going to call me because of this lousy english.

I spent almost the entire day trying to finish up Bleach where I left it. God. I am so slow luh, I'm still at episode 96. =X But I'm so glad I finally can admire Ryukia's brother's (what's his name?) Bankai all over again. Yes, that's right, I'm a sucker for Bleach. And Kon is forever cuteness!

Wenny, if yer ever reading this, come online soon luh! You've been missing for so long! I have gotten SO MUCH to rant to you about.

Okay. Sleepy. Cuddle four pillows. It's so cold today...

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Ordinary People



winter come,

a butterfly, intrinsically radiant and blime
fluttered its wings for one last time,
a love died.

so it meant nothing.
behind every gesture,
a malicious truth,
out to cut me.

love blinded me.
of every sick ways.
tell anybody,
who's at fault?

90 days of love trial rides,
returned doubled fold of hidden knives.
the gravity behind the doings,
none big enough to shoulder.

the aftermath,
as good as grave.
life-less and cold,
full of regrets.

how should i react?
do i do grace?
who did me then?

god sees all.
god judges.
the only rightful one to.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

I resolute to be better

Seeing some of my ex classmates (esp the bunch from Crescent Girls) of what they have achieved through these years makes me a crazier person. They are all:

  • Hot
  • Extremely intelligent
  • Having a REALLY fun time living lives

They make me feel I'm an empty shell with:

  • No Hotness
  • No Intelligence anymore
  • No much FUN in my life

So this is what I SHALL resolute:

  • To be sugar and spice and nothing NICE
  • To be more intelligent
  • To have FUN with my life
  • To step on those who are currently stepping on me

Of course, all these will NOT come without a price.
And the price shall be:

  • Myself



Friday, December 18, 2009

Friday. Time flies when you least realize it.

Sometimes fate if like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do, is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it. It will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, now you've managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.

Closing your eyes isn't going to change anything. Nothing's gonna disappear just because you can't see what's going on. In fact, things will be even worse the next time you open your eyes. That's the kind of world we live in. Only a coward closes his eyes. Closing up eyes and plugging up ears won't make time stand still.

People soon get tired of things that aren't boing, but not of what is boring. A certain type of perfection can only be realized through limitless accumulation of the imperfect.

A theory is a battlefield in your head. Without counter-evidence to refute a theory, science would never progress.

Like flowers scattered in a storm, man's life is one long farewell.

你的世界我的日子
好像沒有誰對發過脾氣
過的太快來不及 唉呦...
你說你說我們要不要在一起
柔情的日子裡 生洛得不費力氣
傻傻看你 只要和你在一起 唉呦呦...
我說我說我要我們在一起
柔情的日子裡 愛你不費力氣
傻傻看你 只要和你在一起
不像現在只能遙遠地唱著你


I am singing again...

*
I've always been saying this, Everything is a metaphor.

My first day of a DKNY biatch. I saw her. There was a strange feeling when I looked into her eyes.

Now I fathom why.


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Solitude #1

Me myself am the world.

And I want silence.

No words. For all don't matter anymore.

Monday, December 14, 2009

You don't belong to me. The way I don't belong to anybody.

Recently, she started off throwing tantrums and left my stuffs lying around. She left my bags on the floors, and scattered some photos with a few letters all over. She filled my poor blue laundry basket with dirty laundry and soiled underwear till the basket cried out in suffocation. Next thing you know, my notorious 'room-mate' tried to tear down the cornice just above her windows to her eyes. That's the second time it is happening; the first being two years back on one morning. I was much indulged in the watching of south park when I stumbled upon the realization. With a notable significant difference compared to her past, she had changed. She was a pretty lady and was ever ready to change the color of her curtains to match her bed linen. "What's the matter with you?", I had asked her yesterday at around noon. Being the rudest room you could ever find, she chose to turn her back and walked away, without even showing the slightest of acknowledgement to my presence.

Like to anyone, I remain just a shadow to everyone.

Rooms get sick of you too even when apparently, you are the owner - that's probably the time you found out that you don't actually belong in it and it doesn't actually belong to you. So when a room starts to give you accumulated dust and messy bookshelves, you know it's beginning to hate you. When the patching up is not done in due time, before you know it, you're thrown out - pathetic, alone and in despair.

You can get sick of your own-doing, which is probably the best reflection of who you are. So when you are capable of being unfavorable to even yourself, let alone others.

oth⋅er

[uhth-er]
–pronoun
9. Usually, others. other persons or things: others around you.

[edit]
if i had only knew what was coming for me in another 12 hours' time...

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

All nuts.

I was having a throbbing headache which was so much like a colony of ants having a Jamaican fiesta in my head. So intense was the pain that I have trouble putting my mind to relaxation. My limps felt so much like decaying wood and I had to struggled my way to get a shower. I popped a paracetamol and practically stuck a bottle of medicated oil into one of my nostrils. None worked. So I synced myself with my body like how you sync your iPod with iTunes. Plugged in - my body prompted me to get something to eat.

This is not a lie. And like a miracle, after having a peanut butter sandwich and a hot milk tea. The headache went away almost instantly. Sounds like it's rather impossible but it remains factual. The thing about me understanding my body in such a manner is amazing.

3:32am - at this time when everyone should be sleeping, here I am carelessly and rebelliously typing words. Echoes of words from the strangers downstairs hover the cold and still night air; no cats tonight. The homeless must have eaten up all the cats in this district - they are homeless, and naturally no food to eat.

My sister is a tad way better than me at handling everything. And without her giving me advice and suggestions to every decision-making scenarios I have faced, I would have been intertangled up in my own strings of problems and drowned in my sea of troubles. So to Dawnie - you're the best. And I love you so much that I want to keep you as my pet.

I have lost track of time. I am wandering around this desert without my own compass. So naturally, by the time I got out of it, I would have been dead. I would be dead because either the one who snapped out of my own idealism will not be me. Or that could be I intentionally lost myself being my own pilgrim until the day I got onto my deathbed - too late to do anything by then. You could say I almost abhor the idea of me. Because I am so fussy with facades, and I have no idea which one to settle down with. Okay, here's what I would do. I shan't make do with any. I will come up with a brand new one, one which is of the norm, easily reachable and ultimately deprived of creativity.

Now, waiting for the break of dawn to pour down onto my world makes me a more impatient being. I want to send out resumes, reckon it's not nice sending out in the wees, what would the recipients feel if they saw the time? My regret for not wanting to stay in school evolves to my earnest mean to get recognized now, propelling me to take a longer route to which they call it 'success'. No kidding my english doesn't suggest I was out of school at a tender age but no way it is better than most too. Life's a bitch. I wonder if I start going to church now, will He show me the way to a bigger house.

*

Baby, I am sorry. I might not be the sanest around. But rest assured, I am trying hard to be better in every flawed ways of mine, a little each day.

Monday, December 7, 2009

(feeling) not myself
(thinking) of a paradise with pot at the stretch of your finger
(wanting) to sleep and wake up feeling like a million dollar
(wanting) to make my blog better
(wanting) to finish up 3 of murakami's
(wanting) to write better with much improved english
(believes) english are darn right important and you should be breast-fed with that
(believes) when you die, you indeed go to hell
(not wanting to believe) i'm 24, ugly, fat and poor
(confession) been reading 'the wind up bird chronicle' for more than six months
(cursing) the most miserable of pain to befall on that lil fucker - just die
(further clarification) no one to know who the lil fucker is except for me

Friday, December 4, 2009

My saga with the twilight.


Went down to Jurong Point GV to catch Twilight Sage: New Moon last night.

Eh, Jacob Black is damn HOT luh! I was very awake whenever he's on scene. You don't believe me? Check this out!


Of course I am aware that this photo has been photoshopped before. But he IS really so motherfacking tasty in the show. His body is more comforting than chocolates. I think a handful of girls in the cinema went bonkers in their underwear whenever they see him half naked - me included!

All you Edward Cullen fans, I am afraid you might have to be disappointed because Rob's scenes, as compared to Taylor's, are a tad lesser. After all, that's what "New Moon" is about - Jacob Black.

But to be fair, because I am always in a teeter totter love with both,



Okay this is what I think. If I want to hit out some art galleries, museums or operas, I'll definitely pick Edward because he indeed looks more intelligent and refined as compared to Jacob (you know what they always say, all brawn and no brains. Which is so true, because the brawn I used to go out with has no brains, and those brainers has absolute no brawn.) And as for Jacob, I think I will bring him to beaches, clubs, and anything which doesn't require much socializing.

So what's your pick?

-

I want to rant now. Just what is it with Jurong Point GV to have so many rude and inconsiderate people? It's definitely not my first time having such unpleasant movie experience at Jurong Point GV so I am not passing some remarks based on no grounds. This specific elephant girl behind me was yakking non stop when she and her cliques (elephants too) took their seats behind me. And still is when the movie started. Yakking in cheena moreover!

"这个是 Jacob."
"没有,这个是Edward."
"Edward 是那个很帅的!"

You could almost feel my blood boiling inside. And I didn't want to be rude, I merely turned my head around to stare at her. I swear I was on the verge of telling her to shut up. Because I seriously don't understand why she is there if she couldn't tell who from who. I bet she doesn't even know who Stefanie Meyer is. Luckily for her, she stopped talking so much after a while, but still did, on an occasional basis.

Halfway through the show, another elephant girl talked on her mobile phone. I was hoping hard someone threw this whole school of whales into the Indian Ocean.

Just when you thought it's over, one elephant girl's boyfriend's mobile phone rang.

*some muthafucking cheena song playing... doesn't want to answer or cannot find his bloody cell... muthafucking cheena song playing still...*

Elephant girl #1: "按掉. 快点!" (impatient tone)
Elephant's bf: "我找不到!"

One very empathetic ah beng shouted, "Diam luh! nb!"

-

Remember what Butterfly quoted?

"People who are unequal certainly do not deserve equal chances.
If you are ugly and fucked up, you will be laughed at."

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Study hard and earn more dough. Forget about passion.

I watched Singapore Idol last night in an almost agonizing pain. No, it's wasn't entirely because of the contestants themselves. The stage was a horror. If you want to make it somewhat like those stages in American Idol, make sure there's enough room for the contestants to roam about and really 'own' the stage. Otherwise, eliminate the idea of having 'fans' there. It looks like some kinda getais with better lighting.

And if they expect the contestants to sing and dance, why give them a microphone which require one hand to hold? Our contestants are not Lady Gaga nor Chris Brown. They merely had one week odd to rehearse and probably learn their basics for dance. Since we all know that they aren't exactly up to it yet, why didn't anyone make sure that they can perform w/o having the discomfort of trying to 'juggle' the microphone while they sing and do some chikabombom at the same time?

I feel really sorry for the contestants because they didn't have any background vocals to assist them at all. "Crazy in Love" sounds so bad because if you are clever enough, you would know that a messy song arrangement requires very strong vocal arrangement and Tab herself couldn't possibly do it even if she has eight vocal folds. Talk about "Lovestoned" and the rest.

It really does only take no more than a retard to tell that the girls sing better. If a fella was to win, may I suggest that we do not have another season of Singapore Idol. The thought of knowing that Singapore votes so blindly really irritates me. If this was to happen, I will swear myself off the entire Channel 5, not just the Idols.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Insanity.

It's at times like this,
the one good thing about being crazy.

You drank and down those liquor,
you watched those neons lights flashed by.
A whole street of strangers you smiled to,
and watched them through your wet fake lashes.
You walked on, clueless on what's ahead and
what you've left behind.

You couldn't care less,
you just need a moment of insanity
in order to be alive.
Why should you be ashamed?
Hasn't it been everyone's constant pursue to be different?