Written By [Cliché] based on a diary entry of mine:

Today it was hard to breathe.
Like a draft though a broken window,
It rattled and shook.
With sharp edges to tear away
At the skin of my throat.

The glass is no longer clear,
But riddled with cracks and dust,
So that my view of the outside world
Is warped beyond compare.
Skewered into something dingy and wrong.

But yet, there is beauty,
In the broken shards upon the floor,
When the glint of the sunlight,
Shines rainbows on the wall.
And warmth comes sneaking in.

But then the sun goes down,
Cold once again crawls close,
So only shadows will remain.
Shades of unhappy become my life,
Broken fragments become my soul.

I'll wait by my broken window,
Trying hard not to choke,
Trying hard just to breathe.
And wish I could just turn around,
And walk out the open door behind me.

Sometimes I think I lack that blind optimism that makes life tolerable.

 
I wish pity was more constructive.

then I would have a grand construct.

Excerpt from good grammar:

2006-09-09 darthsenshin: i have it to

2006-09-16 Kiddalee: Well, your homonyms, capitals and punctuation could use a little work.

2006-09-16 darthsenshin: im working on it dont worry

2006-09-16 Dil*: Correction: I have it too.

to bed, too much work, to work, go to, too little,

2006-09-22 Kiddalee: I have two feet.

2006-09-23 Dil*: I have two feet too.

2006-09-25 Kiddalee: Good. Not to have two feet sounds too hard for me.

2006-09-25 Dil*: I can use the word too, too. I can use the word too two times in a row.

If one were to apologize to everyone they've ever wronged, they'd spend the rest of their lives taking up this task.

Little known to humans, happiness, is in fact a room temperature sandwich.

I expect to perish in exactly 20.7348739247329 years.