| I can talk about music, sex, and food forever. And some other stuff but they don't come to mind presently. |


Hardened - WIPTwisted and stretched flesh moved beside me and received only my dispassionate and measuring gaze. There is need in his eyes, but I ignore it. Some point earlier in the night I turned off my compassion and decided it didnt matter what he or anyone else wanted anymore; he was going to be something for me to enjoy. He was something, not someone, to me.Hardened - WIP
No thoughts of his lackluster love for me mattered anymore. I wore a suit made of anger, hurt, and neglect that had long been sealed tightly; chinks patched and sewn over so that nothing outside of these emotions could find their way in. I could be a monster, I realized, so why not i


ListeningI sit and listen to the sounds of you playing, making the beautiful chords hum and for bursts of song. Once I heard an errant sigh of frustration, but only once.Listening
What do you think when you play? Do you lose yourself to your thoughts? Is creativity sparked? When you do not have a listener, a voyeur, do you allow yourself to laugh, sigh from frustration, or even curse at your mistakes? I want and crave to hear the passionate artist in you, not the bottled up man in you. I want you to voice your thoughts just once, just once. I hear tiny noises in the background; the meow of a cat, squeak of a chair, the change from acou


little pieces of torn up poemsSomeone a long time ago told me that I wrote amazing poetry, especially for being so younglittle pieces of torn up poems
For the last thirteen years I've been terrified of writing because I desperately fear letting them down.
"Oh... well this is nice but I liked the other words you wrote better."
There are ten thousand words, and
ten thousand phrases I'll never never let your eyes see.
If all the words I've written were an
animal, they'd be a blowfish.
I wonder if the gods will forgive me for all the trees I've wasted away as write-and-scribble sh
Fever
Megan
Jasmine| 29%
29%
14%
14%
7%
7%
0%
0%
0%
0%
|
Oooh, a leaf is falling.
That's probably autumn.
Thank you for PIERRE.
[link]
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My 2010 calendar : [link]
# then...
# ... un rêve sans étoiles est un rêve oublié
I hope you enjoy falling in love with autumn as much as I do.
--
"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." (Shakespeare)
#join DirtyMouth if you're over 18.
--
You can be a zombie too [link]
--
"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." (Shakespeare)
#join DirtyMouth if you're over 18.
I have an alt version with blood smeared around the mouth but it didn't look quite right. I hope you enjoy.
--
You can be a zombie too [link]
--
"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." (Shakespeare)
#join DirtyMouth if you're over 18.
THIS BAFFLES ME AND MAKES ME SMILE.
CAPS LOCK RAWRRR!
Haha XD
--
"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." (Shakespeare)
#join DirtyMouth if you're over 18.
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