| Apparently, you guys like this sort of stuff. |
A gift..."Would you like it or not?" She asked again, her vermillion eyes (the same color as that of her gift) boring holes into my forehead. Something told me that If I could bring myself to look into them (like that would ever happen) that I'd find all the knowledge of the world, everything I had ever searched for. The reason my wife left me. Why I can never hold a job for too long. Why, no matter how close I come to my goals, they're always ripped away from me like that old dollar bill on a fishing lure gag. WHy, after thirty-two years of hard work that calloused my hands and my soul, I was still right where I started, a lonely, working-class bacheA gift...
Against MyselfI was furious with myself that I called him, especially after I promised myself (and everyone else I was on speaking terms with) that I would have nothing to do with him. I didn't even know why I had that uncontrollable urge to speak to him. It was like itch that only the low, soothing sound of his voice could scratch. Still, I felt like I had betrayed my own trust.Against Myself
My insomnia had decided to torment me for a third night in a row, and, unsure of what to do at two in the morning, I went through my rolodex. I read off the names one by one, realizing how few I had. Miranda was asleep. Mom and Dad were five states away. Why would I w
As Cruel as SchoolchildrenShe held the bits of leather, paper, and ink in her lap, her glassy eyes dancing over the beaten, tan cover. He had never kept a jornal, or so she thought. He was a normal boy without any secrets that needed to be hidden on paper. He told her everything.As Cruel as Schoolchildren
She only knew his mask.
In this scrap was her true son. Not the tiger she had raised, but a fragile, caged bird that sang not out of joy as she had thought, but out of pain. Why he couldn't speak frankly to him, she didn't know. Why she hadn't heard about the problems at school, the beatings, the tears, the everything was beyond her. How could people be so cruel to h
| I'm the kind of person you'll only meet one of. I have Tourrettes Syndrome. I probably misspelled it, but I have it. I wish I was an albino! I love to write, draw, and take photos. I like to think I'm pretty good at it. *grins* I'm trying to get a novel published. I play a MEAN bass guitar. I ADORE film noir, old movies, and anime! I love music, especially jazz, blues, alternative, industrial metal, and grunge. I go to concerts with my friends all the time. I'm one of those rare girls that play football and videogames while wearing makeup and texting my friends. I speak English, Español, Italiano, 日本語, and 中文. I can be a little awkward at first, but, once you get to know me, I'm pretty fun to be around! Enjoy! |
Le Fin de L'Adieu! How do you say WOOT in French?
Content
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I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine.
(If you can tell what that quote is from, I will watch/marry you.)
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Browse my gallery and I will give you a cookie. [link]
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I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine.
(If you can tell what that quote is from, I will watch/marry you.)
---
Browse my gallery and I will give you a cookie. [link]
--
I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine.
(If you can tell what that quote is from, I will watch/marry you.)
---
Browse my gallery and I will give you a cookie. [link]
--
I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine.
(If you can tell what that quote is from, I will watch/marry you.)
---
Browse my gallery and I will give you a cookie. [link]
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