Reaching NormalYou know how I told you I thought this time we hadReaching Normal
The whole 'normal' thing down, And you just smiled at me and Said you didn't think that We ever were that strange? What I meant to say was this:
Now, I wake up every morning Wishing you were there too,
And I want to hang with you Even when you're with your friends. And I'm even kind of glad
You got angry at me Wednesday And then I got pissed at you, Because we talked about it; And I didn't burn and run, And you honestly apologised. And then you made me tell you
Everything I d
BlockedI scrawl notes on scraps In trains travelling toBlocked
The edge of anywhere. But all my floating thoughts Fail to form anything more Than paths of metabolic madness, Or immunological insanity, Or your beautiful face.
...So AliveHey beautiful, won’t you Come take my photograph? I want to know how I look When you make me laugh....So Alive
Amber OrbDearest,Amber Orb
I can feel it taking hold. With every breath, I am less myself and more a product of it. I find thoughts in my head that I did not put there, actions carried out that I did not direct. No longer do I look people in the eye, for I know the reaction I will receive. And what else can I expect? Amber orbs do not reside in faces of the living. Every trace of the blue you once loved has been replaced with ember tints. Alone, I await the finale. I know when they take on that final hint of red, when my eyes are coals mirroring my master, I am lost.
They hunt me still, dear one. They know not what they se
This Is Not A PoemTonight I spend my time reading a book whos pages echoed to me the state I am in. - I was not in this state until I sat on the fifteen minutes alotted to keep me on my feet, alive. - Within the first five minutes I remembered how much more alive everything was then. I was more skeletal, my bones under thin flesh. and you were alive around me buzzing. - on my right hand it drove me nuts the butterflies when hearing your voice calling someone (This Is Not A Poem
Where The Wind Is Not CagedI want to live somewhere, where I can feel the wind. I want to wrap my body in a blanket and try not to catch cold as I stand in sand, as I watch the stars. I want to sleep with the rain, to the rain.Where The Wind Is Not Caged
I want to live. I want to give up the darkest days and self-effacing virtues I've adopted, in hopes of being adopted into catty circles. I want to live where I can walk for miles and not see another person. I want my warmth to be enough. I want to not want another person.
I want to live where I can feel the win
| I'm first and foremost a science nerd, and a short one at that. I write because I can't stop, and I draw/photograph/paint because I bore easily. I'm obsessed with music, but I'm the least musically talented person you've ever met. I pretend to be misanthropic (which always makes life fun). Ohh... a photo sans hat. Weird, I know. |
Hiatus
Suffering
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I just did a myspace page. It's sucky. If you want, please visit it. [link] Maybe in my next life.........
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~ There's more to life than books, you know; but not much more~
The Smiths
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I just did a myspace page. It's sucky. If you want, please visit it. [link] Maybe in my next life.........
I liked your emotive portrait. Makes you want to think.
So I said I was done with the seminar-workshop. I guess I wasn't meant for news writing(God, the limited number of adjectives and factual information kill me those 2 hours), copyreading and headline writing.(I guess I have some talent for both, but they fall short. And I dont know what the eff those symbols in proofreading mean! >: ( )
But I did get props for photojournalism, editorial cartooning, and feature writing. And out of the five requirements we were suppose to pass; I only submitted two. techinically, one. Two halves. I didn't get them finished. I'm a lazy bumass.
So, yeah. I might be submitting anything I can claw from that experience; in the meantime school awaits, and if I do not labor, I get squashed!
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If Ellen can get on the cover of O magazine, then my goal is to get a million comments!
Bring on the pain!
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Art is not an distraction. It's a distant attraction.
And news writing is bad for the soul. Writing needs adjectives, suspense and such. Not telling people everything in the first paragraph and doing so as quickly as possible. I didn't even study English in my last year of highschool, which is slightly ironic, considering how much I write.
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~ There's more to life than books, you know; but not much more~
The Smiths
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But I often wondered just how deep I could
Sink my teeth into that crease on your arm
The place where all the good times,
They grow and grow.
--
~ There's more to life than books, you know; but not much more~
The Smiths
--
If Ellen can get on the cover of O magazine, then my goal is to get a million comments!
Bring on the pain!
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Art is not an distraction. It's a distant attraction.
I'm counting every moment
And numbering all my thoughts
We own the sky.
Is it dark where you are now?
I'm still finding scraps of paper
From the dreams that you tore up.
I hope you have a really good time, I've always wanted to go to a workshop!
--
~ There's more to life than books, you know; but not much more~
The Smiths
--
I want you to hit me as hard as you can
Icon credit goes to ~Kitty--Katty Thanks bunches!
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