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MEETINGSThe room was full of people I didn't know. And this was getting seriously unconfortable... On my behalf, at least. I hate these get-togethers my parents are so keen on. I was only trying to find in which table I was supposed to sit. That's another thing! Why the hell can't I sit next to my parents? I'm not the one who wants to socialise! "I'm never getting dragged to this kind of thing again." I grunted.
Table, after table, I was going from one way to another across the room intending to find my place and glue myself to the seat for the rest of the night. "Aha!" I finally spotted my name. Rushing there, I started wondering until when I had to stay there... I sat down on the empty table and glanced at the names of the people who would sit beside me. 'Ryan Harlow'... Never heard of him. I looked to my other side. 'Olivia Matthews' Oh. God. Why. My parents had presented me to the woman earlier. She was such a pain! Always talking gibberish, asking thing
EMPTYI woke up feeling empty, missing something I quite never had.
I got up and carried on with my day wishing for something that didn't make me feel empty but I couldn't think of anything so I gave up. I tried to focus on something else and it worked.
I was happy for the time being but the world seemed to decide that I shouldn't be: insecure as alway, I only needed a few words to eat me up from the inside out. I had been feeling alright, and even daring to like myself a bit more than usual, and any other day, I'd probably laugh it off and push it to the back of my mind to be ignored or forgotten. Today I couldn't do it, and now... now, all I said and felt before means nothing to me. I'm hating myself.
They say 'I can't believe you're always demeaning yourself!'. Well, I can. If everyone else does, why should I believe myself better than whom they see?
I keep going on with my day feeling emptier than before, and now I can't help but focus on that feeling.
I eventually went to bed earl
Long time no see... (fic)
Abigail had gone out of the Academy not as early as she wished. It was the beginning of the weekend and she wanted to get lots of things done. She wandered around the island from shop to shop gathering the things she needed: school supplies that were running short, ingredients for some potions, and get a present for Delilah's upcoming birthday... She had come out of the apothecary full of bags with herbs that should be stored as quickly as possible. Maybe I should go back to the dorm, store this, - she checked the time - and have lunch. After lunch I can come back... And with that in mind she started her way back.
One of the good things the island had, in Abigail's opinion was that everyone knew each other, from inside and outside the Academy. But right now she cursed her bad luck as she saw a familiar face asking for directions to one of the inhabitants of Tea Island. The man was surely telling him how to get to the school grounds... And now he's pointing in my direct
ONCE UPON A TIME"Once upon a time there was a little girl.
This little girl was like many others... Had family, friends and dreams.
This little girl lived happily through every day.
One day, she grew up.
One day, everything changed."
"Yeah, yeah..." She said not too sure what she answered to. Lazily, she got upstairs and locked herself in her room. The dim light reflected her figure on the mirror across the room. It looks like I'm looking to a stranger. The hard truth was she was no longer a little girl and people had expectations. Too high, for my liking. Her parents have expectations.
She walked to her bed and sat down... Being eighteen is too much of a pain in the ass. As she glanced to the pile of homework to do and notes to study, she decided to leave it to the next day. She lied down and intently watched the ceiling: it was full of the drawings she had done through the years... Why the ceiling? Well, the wall
MORE THAN WORDSNothing better to do during in a sunny morning than being at a café, eating chocolate ice-cream with waffles, and working on my PC. Well... I say working but, truth be told, I'm just blogging, spending some time in online gaming, answering e-mails, updating software. Oh! And music, of course. There's not really much things to do since I'm stuck here this summer. Thank God, the owner was nice enough to let me use the Wi-Fi without paying...
"Lynn!" someone called. I sat up straight, suprised by hearing my name, and looked around. Damn it! Not him. I turned to the PC screen and adjust the headphones, wishing he would walk away. "Lynn? It's you isn't it?" he said again, only this time he was right beside me. I nodded to acknowledge his presence but not for once I tore my eyes from the screen in front of me. I kept typing like nothing had happened until- Wait! I didn't invite you to sit here! I am not amused! He tried to get me to talk... Again. "Do you rem
WHERE IS HOME?"Stop!" I was running towards her. She was about to get on her bike. I needed to scream louder. "I said STOP!" That made her look. When I got to her I took her hands in mine. "Please don't go..."
"But, I shouldn't... I have to go, eventually." She replied.
It was the truth. "I know, but don't go today." I softened my grip on her hands. "I can't make you stay, if you don't want to. However, if you have the tiniest hope that we can get through this, don't go... Don't make me let you go." I pleaded.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I- I don't know. I'm so confused and I need some time to figure something out." She opened her eyes and looked me straight in the eye. "I'm going to my parents' for now. They have been living there since I remember... There, everything is familiar and that is what I need now."
I was taken aback. "You know you can count on me, right?" She nodded but before she could speak I continued. "Then stay... You know better than to lie to yourself: you're not goin
Don't Fall In Love With A Writer Just because they will bruise your neck with pearls of metaphors; and splash palettes of colours onto your chest with reckless waves and boundless twilight. They will smear ink onto your lips as you kiss them because that is how they leave hickeys. They are wildest in their 2 a.m. diary, and liveliest in book racks of novels; they have butterflies in every heartbeat and they breathe living poems. They leave trails in libraries and coffee shops like Hansel leaves crumbs in forest and they have undying lovers because every love story is ever living in their abyssal oceans of analogies and similes. They know every cliché like the sunset knows the moon rise, and every wound in their heart like blood in their veins. They are terrifying because they weave you in splinters of fires rolling down their cheeks. They are weird because they don't smile much but sometimes you could catch their smiles in poems or tales. They are psychotic b
A Rapist Wears PinkA rapist can wear lipstick, make up, dresses or skirts,
Her nails can be painted brightly, her eyes can still harbor hurt.
A rapist can walk with heels, that click as she drags her feet,
A rapist can have a feminine voice, that comes pouring from her vile teeth.
A rapist can be a woman, that much should be clear,
Yet a few ignorant people, will choose not to adhere.
A rapist can pick her victim, as easily as the next,
She can claim she’s just lost or stranded, then force you into sex.
A rapist can cry wolf, as long as she cries feminist first,
A rapist can ruin your life style, make day to day living worse.
A rapist can put you in jail, with one tear of her eye.
A rapist will claim that you’ve hit her, that you wanted her to die.
A rapist is a liar, she hides behind her make up.
A rapist will be in your dreams, even when you wake up.
A rapist has the ability to avoid the clutches of the law,
A rapist can claim you’ve hit her, if you didn’t stand for her at
The gentleman with the paper napkin rose!Lonely and heart broken,
I was that night.
I walked out of my hotel room,
right into the bar and into it's magical atmosphere,
beautiful belly dancers,
I sat down and got me a drink,
wanting to drawn,
all of my feelings,
my love, my life.
wanting to be cold,
not wanting to feel anything,
betrayal is a painful
thing to remember!
So I wanted the ability to forget,
since forgiving was much too soon
for my broken heart.
So intense was this pain,
many years later
I still carry it's scars.
and without looking I was at the distance,
welcomed by someone's interest...
There he was looking at me,
and for the longest time
I could not look away, I got hypnotize
by his Indian eyes...
From a paper napkin he made me a flower,
I thought of this detail for hours.
He walked to me and reached for my hands,
placing the object of his creation between my fingers.
He must have made this flowers a thousand times,
because as he did,
he never stopped looking at my eye
everything is temporaryi have never been one to yell, it hurts my throat, or maybe i just lack the passion to get that mad at something. you always did bring out things that i never knew were inside though. we had matching bloodshot eyes, and the same fuck the world attitude running through our veins as if the world owed us something. it didn't then. but it does now. my blood is thick and burning and i want to try and flood it into yours to get the colour back into your cheeks that i just watched drain. i kicked the wall, and opened the window and screamed at the sky-scrappers and i don't know how the world can just keep fucking turning without so much a skipped rotation or a fucking stutter.
you turned small, minor things into giant fucking events that made my chest even tighter. a tickle in my throat, a spreading wildfire on the nape of my neck, a distinct lack of words or feelings to anything more than a lingering heaviness. i lost count of how many times i contemplated stepping in front of that car, bus,
My alter-egosYou see, I have these beings in my head I call alter-egos. They're parts of me that appear whenever I need them. They represent me, they come from the deepest side of my soul. It might seem crazy, but that's the best way I can describe them. They're very different from my other OCs (Vince, Renka, Alice, ete); they're very special to me. Sorry, I'm not good at explaining things myself...
Keiko: can I? Can I explain it? Pleeeeaseee?
Okay, go ahead.
Keiko: okay, we are special beings that live inside Sandra's mind. We were formed of her subconscious, so that makes us different of her other OCs she created herself. We're here to protect her, to make her feel better when she has her episodes of depression. Recently, she decided to make us public because we told her it was a good idea.
Now we will show a list of all the alter-egos Sandra has:
-Abyss (Gloomy Apocalypse): Demon
-Angel (Pulsar Majoris): Male version of Sandra
-Astrid (Star Lollipop): Birdwing
-Dana (Harmonic Holic): Human with
Prayer For PeaceThis is not a pledge for peace, though I wish it was.
A pledge is adhered by everyone, those low and above.
I guess this is a prayer, something that I hold true,
A prayer for peace for everyone, for peace for me and you.
I’ve seen this world and its twisted ways,
I’ve seen more than 295 lives vanish in just days.
I’ve heard of the bombs flying across borders,
Making the lives of the innocent, quick and sorter.
I’ve seen the leaders of the world turn away,
Perhaps they’ll help out if they’re given better pay?
I’ve seen planes vanish, and fall from the sky,
I’ve seen their families mourn, their villages and cities cry.
I think to my self, is this the world God has made,
Is this the world we live in, if so, what have we paid?
We’ve ruined it with wars, hatred and destruction,
We’ve plagued it with chemicals, violence and combustion.
So I do not ask, nor pledge for what I want,
But I pray for peace, for a world that is so gaunt.
fellow adventurers and others who want to donti know its been a long time sense she commited suicide but i just recently found out about Amanda Todd the poor girl she just couldnt handle it anymore i wanted to say that it gets better i should know and today im gonna tell you my story
it was an ordanary day in the dew household yes dew as in mountain dew anyway i was deppresed tho that wasnt unusual for me knowing my past it was diffrent this time it was like my deppression was worse then ever i went into my brothers old room to look at pictures because hes at collage so i was missing him then i noticed his clouset was open now ya see he had a real sword in that clouset and i saw it i thought to myself i-its to much i cant handle it anymore i picked the sword up and almost drew it getting ready to drive it right through my 9 year old chest but then i thought to myself why am i doing this all its gonna do is make my family missrable and i dont
... and nobody cares.Can you see these empty eyes, screaming for help? No you can't.
Oh come on, you're not sick! I can't see it! Your answer was. You're thinking of me as a malingerer, don't try to tell me otherwise. You think I'm one of the comfortably sick to get through life easy.
Have you ever asked yourself why you (still) live? What is worth for living? When all problems hail down on you at once and you threaten to suffocate, seeing all your plans and dreams destroyed, you won't consider giving up, don't you?
Come get your ass up, lazy f*ck and get a job again, I once heard you yelling at me. Afterwards I'm asking myself – do you, so called friend, even know me at all? Do you know that the pressure of my past has crushed me into an unstable pile of mood swings, suicide thoughts and psychosomatic sickness? Probably not, because if you'd know me you wouldn't hurt me with your words.
But there are loads of therapists out there, don't whine into my ears any longer, go get your hea
WHAT LIES BENEATH...Some days I wish not to be the one who's always happy.
Sometimes I wish not to be the one who always wins the fight.
I wish not to lie about how I really feel.
I wish not to smile when all I want is to yell, kick or punch.
Why is it so hard? I think I have no longer the ability to show my true feelings. Maybe I don't know how to feel anymore. All is left is sadness, anger, pain and happiness. Nothing more, nothing less.
I can't bring myself to trust easily people around me... Even the ones I trust the most aren't allowed to know me. I don't let them.
All I wanted was someone... Just someone to see right through me. See the loneliness, the insecurity, the fear.
Some days I wish I had someone whom I trusted.
Sometimes I wish that one person saw what lies beneath my smile.
I wish for someone who trusts me and who I trust.
I wish for a person to hug me and tell me that is okay for me to yell if I want. To cry. To hug back.
That person who knows how I really feel and is by my side.
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