Buckle up and seat yourself comfortably, the night you see before you will never blaze like this again, an admirer that looks deep into the chasms of your soul and finds even the darkest of your desires flawless.
I'm lost in a catacomb of forgotten sentences a dozen here, a hundred there all of them spinning in jovial dances because they will never be judged by the lick of a salty diminishing ear, lost to a tongue of a person but free to the ear of the damned. I hang around this place in disgruntled irony because I myself have been forgotten, however people still remember me.
Throughout all the torment.I could never seise I will trundle or maybe - flutter by while I let the air be clean and joyful, but deep I sit inside every man, an instinct stronger than life and darker than death, a force to turn brother on brother and father on son. Once I taste your most reluctant desire I can strike, blowing bombs around the world and forcing a hurricane a torrent through your mind polluting the clearest of thoughts with the murky damnation of death.
The people shuffle in with apprehensive steps and restrained expressions. How does one even present one's face in such situations? But the great man was there, weak and faint, smiling as much as he could in his condition. He made eye contact with as many of them as he could. The most prominent woman of the bunch spoke fearlessly. "You've been a good husband, and I will cherish our memories." The old man nodded. Then a boy, now a man, rested a hand on the bed rail. "You once told me I can do what anyone else can do. If someone else can do it, so can I. Thank you." The old man's smile was firm and formal. Then the girl, now a woman, approached. She looked like she was about to speak, but she didn't. Couldn't. The old man lifted his head ever so faintly and she leaned to him. He whispered to her, "life waits for no man, and bows for no woman. But it slows slightly for beauty, especially the beauty of a generous deed."
In the first week, I adjusted my ways of everyday life to make it somehow include you. I would walk a longer way in the hall just to see a smile on your face that was clearly meant for someone other than me. I sat in my car during the mornings before class, just hoping to catch a quick glance at you. I texted you over the smallest things, waiting for a reply that usually never came. But in every week following the first, the adjustments became a little bit harder than the weeks before. I started hurrying to class and hoping my phone would die so I could have a reason to stop existing in the world around me. The little things that once made you so special became burdens, or maybe I just saw them for what they really were. You were like the bruised apple of the bunched, and I had somewhat hoped you would taste better than the rest.
Grave flashes of light admonish the quilted sky into a battered terrain of quixotic colours that bleed into your conciseness . Splintering images that haunt as you stare into the abyss between the flashes. Each a canyon unto which you see reflected your own predicament. your mood senses each deranged explosion as a confirmation of your impending doom. Nothing will save us now. No god. No religion. No truth. Nature exists to instil in us a damning fear of the unknown. But it's not the unknown we've come to fear. its each other. and the things we've left unsaid seen in the grandiose expression of feeling draped in the imagery of the stars
I will attend High School next year! Year 7 2015! I'm already reading study and motivation tips online so hopefully I'll get good grades. I really want straight As and Bs, I love school. I don't know why but I feel as though I'll enjoy the adventure of High School. Essays, Studying, Homework...annoying but if you do it, you'll do really well in the future. I'm so excited to start learning new, different, interesting subjects next year. I just want to graduate Primary School so I get my summer holidays (6-weeks) and enjoy the journey. I wish that I have fun discovering lots of new information in the future!