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Why I Liewhen i lie,
it's not because i think your stupid enough to believe it,
it's not because it makes me feel good,
it's not because,
it's not because of any of the things that you suggest,
it's because i have trust issues,
not with you,
not with the people i talk to,
not with the people i lie (or tell the truth) to,
but with myself,
and the words that come out of my mouth,
because the words get twisted,
or said in the wrong tone,
and i just don't want to hurt you,
so you don't feel sad or upset with me for the right reasons,
because if your angry or upset with me for the wrong reasons,
i feel what i want to feel stronger than if you hated me for the right reasons,
i feel like i,
i feel like...
i feel more horrible than i am,
because i've lied to the people i care about
and i don't want you to care if i do something that hurts me,
so i don't see your emotions suffering like mine do
so shun me,
just get away from me,
and stay away,
so you don't get hurt
Love Is...a lot of songs have things about love in them
some songs say what love is
2 examples of this are;
in the song 1925 by Hatsune Miku it says:
"What is love?", would you rather hear the truth?
It's something that you LOse or giVE straight out.
It's just a stone that's hard to crack,
I don't care about a diamond.
but in the song Egoselfish by Marina it sings about love
and one of the lines is:
does our "egoselfishness" make it exist?
but i think love is the feeling,
of wanting someone elses happiness
more than you want your own.
so, may i ask,
Do you pick
or do you pick
Fearwhen most people are asked,
what do you fear most?
they say things like;
but what i fear most,
is that the person i tell
my greatest fear to,
will use it,
and make me their slave
a slave to fear.
and i think it's fair to say,
that most people fear,
facing their true selves the most.
in the fear that everyone they care about will reject them.
Most Important Thingwhat's the most important thing to you?
is it friends?
is it your notepad and pen?
your drawing utensils?
or the sofa?
or the sun?
i'll tell your what the most important thing is to me.
it's the fact that i'm alive to enjoy all these wonderful things and more
although i sometimes,
okay, most of the time,
and wish i wasn't born.
right now i'm glad i was,
so i can enjoy these things,
even the things that make me cry.
so i think i will treasure all these things,
until the day i die
Falling Into The Wonderland Of...I'm falling into a world,
not everything makes sense in this world,
monsters loom at every corner,
death could come at every turn,
I'm finding myself loosing my sense of time,
and getting attached to things and people I've just met,
I want it to end,
but I know when it does,
I will want to come back,
this place is magical,
it draws me in,
This isn't the wonderland that Alice fell into,
but it's sometimes very similar,
i'm falling into the wonderland,
and all the things I love.
I'm falling into the wonderland,
of my room with the door closed,
where I can be anyone,
and be myself.
I'm falling into the wonderland...
of my own imagination.
The Hate Filled Truththere is one person i truly hate.
i hate the way this person always acts like they're everyone's friend.
i hate the way they can never express themselves.
i loathe the way this person is always smiling and acting happy.
the thing i hate most,
about this person,
Let People InI used to hate people so much because they're so quick to judge and betray each other. They'll say they're your friends, but then ignore you or shun you when it stops being convenient or fun for them. They use you as much as they can, and when they're done with you they all just disappear. I didn't want to have friends like that, and I thought I didn't need them. I thought that, but it wasn't right at all. I thought I was stronger, rejecting relationships and friends. But once you reject people, you're stuck. You lose the opportunity to make those connections that define your life. And when you've lost those chances, you don't get them back.
I found someone like me to share my pain with. She's still one of the most special people in my life, right up there with my dad.
Whenever you meet that person, don't turn them away.
Up until recently, that's all I've ever done. I've tried to build trusting friendships, romances... and it always comes crashing down around me. Often because of my ow
Morbid FantasiesI played it out in my head, how it would all turn out, and what would happen depending on which method would be used. It's horrible when I run out of creepypasta narrations to listen to on youtube, because then I'm alone with my thoughts. I think about things that make me sad, angry, and hurt. However, this particular thought brought along not just pure hatred, but satisfaction, and admittedly, a dose of fear.
I was invited to join my "family" for thanksgiving by my grandmother. Nice gesture, but she should already know that my roommate has work, and we have a yearly tradition of our own. Besides, I honestly do not enjoy being in the company of my "family," since I never really considered them as such, save for my brother.
But I knew in my heart, that she'd be there. Because they trust her. They would "forget to mention it" to me of course, but I know she'd be there. And I've played the scenario over and over and over in my head.
I vowed to live long enough to watch her d
Ugly.As a young child, new to the world, pure of it's intoxicating fumes, I remember a tree.
Such an ugly tree I remembered it to be.
It stood tall, creeping a good ways above any of the others, but it was disfigured in many ways.
Its branches were thin and fragile, like the bones of a sickly human, they twisted in retched ways that anyone would think should snap them clean off.
It was pale and grey, standing out among its fellow familiars, never to show the beautiful colors that it must have held within.
Its bark was edgy and course, as if it had survived through one of to many harsh winters, never falling from its place.
And I remember, as the others land succumbed to failling, giving themselves up, withering away, that tree never did.
It continued to stand tall, proud and majestic as that ugly tree could possibly seem.
It fought its way through whatever was thrown its way, fought until it could no more, never failing whatever duty it believed it needed to fulfill.
We don’t know what the world has in store for us and what will happen in the future. We can make all of the plans in the world to be happy, successful, or whatever the case may be. However, with that being said, at the end of the day money is only a mirage of temporary happiness and your success in life will not carry over once you have passed. Society seems to lead you into thinking that if you’re not a big businessman, musician, doctor, lawyer, or athlete than you’re not very successful. But today, I saw firsthand that none of it really matters.
Today, I met a woman by the name of Arlene and she has touched me, without saying a word to me. For whatever reason, I felt a connection to a woman I’ve never met before today and I’ve never seen before today. She was a complete and utter stranger, yet…her story (Or lack thereof.) touched me in a way I hope I never forget.
My name is Enrique Rafael Alaniz and this is an account
Wrong side of the mirrorI can see a woman, watching me through the glass. She is young, in her early twenties, with a haunted look about her. There is nothing especially spectacular about her, but something something quietly remarkable draws you in; captures your attention; fixes you to the spot.
Her eyes are a slate grey, intense and piercing; a dark energy smouldering in their depths. You notice that they glow a deep blue, like the ocean, when caught by the morning light, sometimes even the shade of a pale winter sky. A subtle ring of gold accents the border between her pupils and irises, which hold a faint sparkle of mischief against their black voids.
A shock of tight, red curls, messy yet somehow precise, frames her face. The sides of her hairstyle are trimmed short, not quite a mohawk; showing her natural gold-tinted brown. You could almost imagine her as one of the blond, adorable, cherub children, if not for the shadows of experience marking her features.
Beautiful is not a word that suits her, and de
My HeartYou know you’re truly in love if hearing her name, even if it’s not being referred to her, fills you up with undefinable joy. You know you’re truly in love when you remember how your voice trembled when you called her and read her the letter, asking her to be your girlfriend. You know you’re truly in love if the pure thought of feeling her soft skin on yours makes you shudder with delight. You know you’re truly in love if, she’s not only the first and last thing on your mind every day, but also after every meal, every motion, every book, every song, every breath. You know you’re truly in love when 771 miles isn’t the distance you are away from each other, but rather the amount of roads, bridges, and rivers you’d cross to get to her. You know you’re truly in love if every song you hear you can connect to the overwhelming joy and the infinite sorrow she makes you feel. You know you’re truly in love when you write a story a
Since Facebook Isn't AppropriateSince Facebook Isn’t Appropriate
And ‘cause dA is better than Facebook. If we go to your wall, I’m wishing you a happy (Insert number here ‘cause I really can’t specify) day on planet Earth. Actually, give or take a couple of those days because someone thought it was a good idea to randomly add another day. (Or maybe it wasn’t so random, but whatever, humorous effect.) But in all seriousness, if I could, I’d let everyone know how lucky I am to have you in my life and how I only want to be with you. I know we have our ups and our downs, our stale and our spontaneous moments but they’re all moments I wouldn’t give up ‘cause I have probably learned more about myself during these last 262 days than I have during the 5,943 days (Give or take ‘cause again, leap years.) I existed before you.
I hate generic birthday messages ‘cause you’re not a generic lady and I don’t think we’re a g
OJOS DE AGUA
OJOS DE AGUA
TIENES OJOS COMO EL MAR
VERDE COMO LAS ACEITUNAS TAN HERMOSOS QUE NO SE DIFERENCIAR EL COLOR, ME PIERDO EN ELLOS EN UN MAR DE MIRADAS Y PALABRAS IGNORADAS, QUE ME DICES, PREGUNTAME CUALQUIER COSA Y TE DIRE QUE SI, ANDA HAZLO, EN LA CIMA DE LA MONTAÑA VOY CANTANDO MUY FUERTE, SOBRE CUANTO TE QUIERO Y TE ANHELO QUITAR ESOS OJOS, ERES MIA Y DE NADIE MAS, RECUERDALO SIEMPRE, QUE ESOS OJOS LINDOS E INOCENTES NOTE DELATEN YA QUE PODRIA PERDER EL AMOR DE MI VIDA, LO QUE ME HACE EXISTIR, LO QUE ES MI RAZON DE VIVIR-Sara
Regret and SorrowI'm sorry for being smart
I'm sorry for being nice
I'm sorry for being gullible
I'm sorry for being dense
I'm sorry for being stupid
I'm sorry for being the same
I'm sorry for being different
I'm sorry for my mistakes
I'm sorry for being lonely
I'm sorry for loving
I'm sorry for existing
I'm sorry for being scary
I'm sorry for being a coward
I'm sorry for my smile
I'm sorry for saying sorry
I'm sorry I stand out
I'm sorry I'm invisible
I'm sorry for being blind
I'm sorry for being deaf
I'm sorry for being mean
I'm sorry for being here
I'm sorry for these letters
I'm sorry for being human
I'm sorry for being here
I'm sorry for everything
I'm sorry for being me
Little Miss It“Do you enjoy her company?”
That, Avadaci concluded, had been the extent of his grandfather’s kindness. Thank the stars he had broken his neck after a failed attempt to ascend the castle staircase. Not that many were privy to this information. The official listing on the cause of death involved something along the lines of falling in battle after slaying at least a dozen demons, although this was treated with quite a bit of skepticism by the general populace. Yet, interestingly enough, a decent portion of the locals believed a tale about the cannibals of Unkhtom devouring him whole.
Not that Avadaci really cared how his grandfather had died. He was just glad he was dead. And if he was glad his grandfather had died, Avadaci wondered, why did he have to attend his funeral? In fact, the whole kingdom was glad his grandfather had died. Why did they have to attend the funeral?
“Oh Avad,” proclaimed his mother, “obv
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More