silly girl and dead girl

sometimes my mood fluctuates faster than a little active girl that's swinging on a swing. but, if you give me some time, i'll always be okay. i'm not just being dramatic, i only take a long time to accept little facts, especially ones that bring me an inch away from tears.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eversince i started to date Mr. Lovely, I became more kiddy-like and sometimes more girly. I suppose it's because he calls me "his" little girl. I always make him carry me in front of his chest, and when he does, I close my eyes and pretend that he's walking me upstairs to tuck me into bed with a soft goodnight kiss on my forehead and all the blankets tucked snugggly beneath my chin. Yesterday we played a game of "Life" for about half an hour. He won (because he stole my $80,000 salary), no teacher can beat an artist. Afterwards we played "pat-pat" the tummy. It's really like beating a drum. I hit his tummy so rough that he wailed for help. I smiled contently. Then we sang this song for a good half an hour:

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree

Merry, merry king of the bush is he

Laugh kookaburra, laugh

Kookaburra gay your life must be

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've been having many nightmares of some person wanting to kill me. Waking up to this for the past few mornings is leaving me energy-deficient. Exposures to this feature have left me fearing for my life. What if I just don't wake up one morning? What if the angry devil catches me and stabs the big black hooked knife into my heart and lets each blooddrop drips drop by drop from my white shiny gown faintly onto the hollow wooden floor. A big puddle of blood will eventually settle together. A wonderful delight to her, the beast that took away my last breath, my last heartbeat; my last sight would be of her happy pained eyes laughing squeamishly at me.