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Trade MistakesOh god.
I roll my eyes. It's my friend. I know she means well, but it's annoying when people care too much sometimes.
"You need a job."
There is one problem with her suggestion. I already have a job. It's from when I wake up to when I fall asleep and it's called feeling sorry for myself. Yeah, it's a pretty demanding job. The hours are shit and so is the pay, but I am part of a million people strong network. Some people do it part time, others full time.
I work full time.
"I'll get one," I tell them. They mean well and I love them dearly, really. I mean if i loved myself as much as I loved them I would be the most concieted person on the planet. I love them that much. Maybe my love for them will pull me out of this rut and I ckinda hope it does.
Actually I'm kinda relying on that love.
Full time, kinda like my job. I think I mostly depend on their love though. When I really think about it. I need their appraisal. I need their smiles. I need the way they say 'it's ok
Anna MollySometimes I want to believe I'm different.
I brush shoulders with some girls from my school and they scoff. Did she just touch me? They're disgusted. Why? Why are they disgusted? I have the same anatomy as them. I just look different. They all look the same, like manufactured barbies that try too hard.
And physically I am.
I make my way past the different cliques and I wonder: how exactly do they look at me? Do they look at me like the barbies do? I can hear my feet, like a metronome. Clack, clack, clack. Or rather squeak, squeak, squeak because I'm wearing some worn out boots and the floor is wet.
I have never been a part of them. The cliques. I've always been alone. Yeah, I guess alone is a good word for it. I perfer self isolation. I think I gave up on humanity somewhere along the line. People were so selfish and so was I. I wanted to much more. I wanted to be different.
I was. Just not in the way I wanted to be.
I cross my arms like I'm holding up a shield because I'm starti
With A BangI don't think I'd ever meet anyone quite like her if she'd died that night.
She's sketching. I'm looking over her schoulder because I'm curious. I'm always curious when she'd doing something. It's always something incredible and fantastic and beautiful. She doubts these words when she hears them.
She's using red now. It's not bright red, or brick red, which is this weird orange-red that's just bullshit, it's this pretty scarlet red. Whatever she's drawing must be bleeding or blossoming and quite frankly it looks like both.
She's dyed her hair again. It's the same color as the crayola she's using. Her red hair goes in every which direction. It bobs with the way she moves and it expresses her firey soul which is quickly burning out. It's smoldering and I'm kind trying to bring it back to life, but it's hard.
I don't know if I can save her.
I really hope I can because it's such bullshit that someone who use to shine as bright as her is still so blinding as she's goin' out.
Let. Me. In.I put your work in my folder called home, because that's where you belong; in my heart, inside my home.
I think I found her"Who are you?"
It was a question uttered out loud in a disbelieving voice and it was a good question. Who was I? Why am I here? Who had I been? My eyes fell from her's and I kept asking myself. Was there an answer? A true answer? Not one of those cracker box answers that only gave a boring description. I couldn't give her one that was exciting either because I knew that was a lie.
"I don't know," I finally answered as I lift my gaze to see her. She looks familiar. Maybe I knew her once? She smiles at me for a brief moment and we look away. "You gonna be okay?" she asks, after a moment of hestitance of course.
"Yeah, I think so."
We share that mutual smile and I wipe at the mirror. "Good pep talk," I tell myself and she smiles again. I had lost her in a bottle of something bad. "Talk to you later?" She gives a slight bouncy nod like she's expecting me later and I smile to myself.
"I think I found her."
Game of WarI watch as the little boys play war in the front lawn of my friend's lavish summer home. Their mock sounds of pain set me on edge. A violent clash of toys imitate bombs and send the players sprawling a mere inch back, fingers and toes still intact.
Slowly I watch the little soliders seperate. The boys of today find their enemies of tommorrow in an almost indiscriminate way. "You're the bad guy!" August's boy proclaims and Martin's boy shoots back, "Why do I gotta be the bad guy!"
"Because you're the bad guy! Stop being such a baby!"
Their game is black and white. Bad is bad. Good is good. There is no detailing or shade of grey. No space for doubt in the war they play a part of. I scoff for war is no game. I can leave my home a hero possibly today and find myself to be my own enemy tommorrow for every bullet chamber I emptied into some unfortunate man's chest.
"Time for dinner!"
The little soliders march into my friend's blood money estate. I pretend to forget the game for war and all t
Black and White TragedyThe angel offered a forced smile at her reflection in the piano. It morphed slowly to show her a frown and she touched her face. No smile. She was losing her head again. Her eyes turned to the keys. Black and white. They were so simple in contrast to her reflection, vivid colors against the polished body of the piano.
Angel bowed her head respectfully as she looked down to look at her hands. They lay so gently on the keys. She took a deep inhale and closed her eyes. She pressed the first key. Off. A little too high. Her brows furrowed as continued to clink her way through the notes until she found what she was looking for.
A soft. Tadume. A noise she couldn’t describe with words or even a hum. Angel smiled a little as she tapped out a tune. Gentle and melancholy in nature and suddenly she stopped.
Her mouth opened hesitantly. What would she sing? Angel’s eyes opened and she could see Michael’s picture sitting on the piano. No care in the world. Just a big smile and bi
I was someone onceI was being born in reverse. Every nick and scratch that once made me, me, was gone. The memories. The people. Gone. I was freshly confused by my existence and instead of being conceived as a babe in my mother's womb I was born a young adult; stripped of personality but not of my worldly knowledge. Being left void of who I was made me cry out to the ears that would listen.
tnm hermosas criaturas cap 7>>>>>>
mel: Es que además de mi familia esta tecnología la sabe… – fue interrumpida por una voz femenina
'¿'¿': Creo que lo que piensas es correcto mel – decía una chica mayor (No tanto)
isabella: es correcto hola mi chiquita
mel: pero como
sofia: como es posible
todos: como paso esto
'0';: les explicaremos
los vampiros: vanessa/mama
vanessa: hola hijos hola chicos
sofia: pero ustedes no estban , ya saben arriba
isabella: no sofia solo nos icimos pasar
ramiro: pero entonces ustedes mandaron a capturarlos
vanessa: si y les presentare a los que nos ayudaron
unos 4 chicos aparecieron
vanessa: ella es sam tu hermana thom y la de ti sergio
thomas y sergio: mi mi hermana
vanessa: ella es brigitte , el es chester y el es jackshon
dezz: ellos son vampiros y lobos
isabella; si las chicas son vampiros y los chicos son lobos
xavier: de acuerdo pero sigo sin entender nuestros tios y los predres de ellos nos dijieron que tu tia y tu
Tales of Machina - Big Sister------------
She was a tiny little thing. Even by human standards she was small, so combined with the machines she was so fond of being around it could get interesting.
Someone her size could easily get underfoot and yet somehow she never did.
But they still felt protective… Even now as they had been turned into humans that didn’t stop.
Which was how Dottie found herself looking in on the child as she slept.
Olivia however wasn’t sleeping well at all. She was tossing and turning whimpering in her sleep. A nightmare that was attacking the little girl as she tried to make a sound yet nothing came out.
Dottie didn’t know how to react, she just did the first thing that came to mind, pulling the girl up a little, shaking her a bit. Calling her name over and over.
“Olivia! Olivia wake up!”
Within seconds Olivia was awake and trying to wiggle away, still feeling the bits and pieces of the nightmare trying to come back to mind.
Dottie didn’t care, she
The Stereo RoomThe Stereo Room
They say that words can’t hurt you, that they aren’t sticks and stones. They lie, words hurt just as bad, sometimes worse. Sometimes they cut deeper then thrown punches. Why? Because you can be sure that physical wounds will heal, but word wounds never heal, those scars never fade. They all lie, mirrors lie, the posters advertising a perfect world? They lie. All of them lie.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a pane of glass, can’t you see through me? I never fell down any stairs, those scar’s aren’t from my cat. Why do you ignore it then? I feel like something that isn’t really here, an invisible man. Nothing seems real. I lock myself up in my room, and turn up my stereo as loud as it can go.
The music drowns out the reality, it hurts my ears, reminding me that they’re real. I still don’t feel completely, all the way real. My hands are numb, but the razor I clutch in them is real, it’s very real. The cold and sh
Felix's Moving ProblemHi, my name is Felix Stag. I'm 14 years old wearing very casual clothing. I've recently found a lot of strange things in our house as we pack up belongings to move to our "delightful" new caravan.
A silver locket hangs round my neck - my name and it's meaning as the inscription. Oh, there goes my sister, Kaylee, I see she still has that auburn hair dye that Dad tries to use when he's drunk. Why does she keep it? He's just gonna steal it again and again.
My brother, Robert, is weeping, as Mum has traded his laptop for a new (I mean, dead) plant - why? She has loads for now! Oh, no not anymore since we're moving I guess. Well, at least these cheap fortune cards didn't lie - Life is Hell.
And here's Dad's old business card! He used to be a lawyer? How can I, Felix Matthew Stag, be the middle-born son of a former lawyer, who has now gone and spent our life savings on a caravan we don't even need!
Note To Self: Drunken fathers and life savings - keep apart and aw
Computerized Love "..."
"Hello?" A feminine monotone voice could be heard.
"Could you please let me out? Just touch the box on your Wii U Gamepad."
I tapped the box, and shortly a sign--no, a floating robot stood in my path. The familiar voice told me "Welcome to Nintendo Land!"
"I am Monita, your park guide." T'was a name I knew ever since I bought my console. Some call her annoying or repetitive, but all she needed was her mono-arm for me to catch on that I was going to love her forever. It wasn't the first time I've watched this pre-coded cutscene via that special button in the plaza, but it was certainly never going to be the last.
Some of my friends call me crazy or a freak, but I enjoy every moment I get with her on my Wii U. They'd be right to call me a freak though, as I talked to her night and day, every waking moment. And hearing her sweet monotone voice as though it was synthesize
BickeringA/N: Sorry I've been so inactive. Work has been crazy and my schedule is all over the place right now. I decided to whip up this chapter for you guys. Hope you enjoy it.
Children are natural mimics who act like their parents despite every effort to teach them good manners.
"Get out!" A girl's voice shouted in exasperation, unbelievably audible, possibly even heard across the city. Squealing boyish laughter followed it, clearing feeding off of it. "I said to get out, Rex! Get out of my room!"
Rex laughed again, louder, nearly giggling with gleeful abandon. "I am out Emma!" He howled back at her triumphantly. "I'm way out here in the hallway!"
Shayera didn't need to get out of bed to see what was going on. She could visualize the scene from where she lay, nursing a migraine from being knocked over the head by Bizarro the previous night. Her head pounded as she grimaced, hoping the two could peacefully work it out themselves.
Rex stood grinni
[BWG] Nap Time “Come now, Thema.”
The girl shivers and chews the inside of her cheek; her eyes flutter very faintly, but otherwise she gives no indication that she intends to get up any time soon. Mother hums low in her throat, both amused and annoyed by her child's disobedience. Father grunts his disapproval from a short distance away and Thema smiles sleepily from behind her swaddle of furs and leather. Those two sounds go together like bread and butter and she is always happy to hear them.
Heavily gloved fingers rustle through her hair:
"Are you listening? It's time to go, klein een. You have to get up."
There's some urgency in mother's quiet, raspy voice, but Thema barely even budges an inch. Like the lazy thing she is, mother's morning voice only soothers her further into a deafening sort of sleep. She sighs deeply, clutching her rat
Getting the game The wind seemed to be screaming as the two siblings raced down the street wildly, both hand in hand as they came closer to their local store, one ready to vomit in excitement, the other seething over the precious sleep he’s lost.
But it didn’t matter; all that mattered is that after months of waiting, it’s finally here.
The avant-garde game of the year, Oculus Rifters, is taking gaming to a whole new level.
And Alexis felt like they were on cloud nine from the moment they woke up.
Rushing through the automatic door, Alexis skidded to a stop, as Skylar came to a complete stop and fell to the ground heaving. The older twin scanned the aisles quietly, taking note of the others lumbering around, some for the bright clothing on display, others for the food on shelves. Didn’t seem crowded today, much to their surprise.
“Skylar, it looks like we’re going to have a real easy time today.” The Shedinja smiled widely an
It was raining heavily outside. The prince and his family had decided that the three of them would all huddle up together because it was kind of cold. Clear had their child on his lap, and the little boy was just starting to fall asleep. The storm had started during dinner and was slowly getting worse. Clear was starting to fall asleep as well. Which made sense since it was late. They had put on a movie for their child to keep him entertained and it had just ended. The movie had been longer than the two of them thought.
The prince took the child from Clear so that he could lie down. Once he did, he gave the boy back to his partner. He looked out the window just in time to see a bolt of lightning strike. The planet was famous for its awful storms. The lightning and thunder was some of the worst in their solar system. But buildings and things were safe due to redesigning after so many years of the storms. And watching the storms was nice. Relaxing even, if you ignored
Bullshit"I'm sorry that you're such a bullshit excuse for a human," I mused as I tried to eat my food. The girl across from me looks at me like she's fuckin' Bambi or some shit. "You're bullshit baby, all nice and full of it. You suck at art, you suck at fucking and you suck at life." Amused I watch her cry and I don't really feel anything because I can't. What happened to me? Why am I like this? "You're disgusting," I tell her, "Go fucking clean yourself up." I roll my eyes and leave my half-empty plate. I swear to God I use to be a good person. Then again I don't believe in that bullshit either.
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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