I see him every other night. Sometimes his hair is black, others it is blue. At times his eyes are fixed on me, others they are downcast. He asks me "haven't you noticed?" to which i don't respond.
TIIIIIIIIIIIII
Hi, youve reached the house of the almighty powerful Rynn and Sauce. In case you dont know this number, since i think you are stupid enough to not know it after you just dialed it into the freaking phone, its three, zero, three, nine, eight, eight, five, zero, five, zero. If you would like me to call you back, please recite all reasons why you are not a loser. If you would like me to ignore you, then hang up the phone and spend the amount of time you wasted calling me to think about why you would call me if you didnt want me to call you back. If you think this message is too long, screw you. At the tone, please record your message. *BEEEEEEEEEEEE
"No-name"
Im waiting, still
images of sugar-plums dancing in my eyes
i smile as i look to my elated soul
hiding from the kiss,
keeping me complete
like sleeping, only better
a happy grin,
a faithful touch,
recovery from life's worst edges
wave your hand good-bye
worst your love be broken again
~[the Indigo]
The Top 12 Signs a Boy Band Member is Depressed
12. Even though it might take him an hour or more, he now insists on tuning his own guitar before each show.
11. Deep sighs of despair during his double-spin, kick-kick, hip-thrust dance sequence.
10. His oldest just graduated from high school.
9. The girl he just dumped slammed the door on the way out, and the vase that was broken was Waterford crystal, thank you very much.
8. "I got gloom! Yeah! Girl you know it! (Uh!) Woo, Melancholy!"
7. Doesn't even try to resist being put in his limo to go home at night.
6. Lately, he favors jumpsuits in dark, somber earth tones.
5. Changes name from "A.J." to "A-Lo."
4. Refuses to subject himself to the hardball questions of Larry King.
3. N'STINK
2. Changes name of new single from "Oh, Baby Baby Baby" to "Oh, Baby Baby."
And the Number 1 Sign a Boy Band Member is Depressed...He doesn't want to play his guitar or write music anymore, Oh wait, is that so bad? Never mind.
My way and Martha's way...
Martha Stewart's way #1:
Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of sugar cone to prevent ice cream drips.
My way:
Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Pete's sake; you're probably lying on the couch with your feet up eating it anyway.
Martha's way #2:
Use a meat baster to "squeeze" your pancake batter onto the hot griddle and you'll get perfectly shaped pancakes every time.
My way: Buy the precooked kind you nuke in the microwave for 30 seconds. The hard part is getting them out of the plastic bag.
Martha's way #3:
To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.
My way:
Buy Hungry Jack mashed potato mix and keep it in the pantry for up to a year.
Martha's way #4:
To prevent egg shells from cracking, add a pinch of salt to the water before hard boiling.
My way:
Who cares if they crack, aren't you going to take the shells off anyway?
Martha's way #5:
To get the most juice out of fresh lemons, bring them to room temperature and roll them under your palm against the kitchen counter before squeezing.
My way:
Sleep with the lemons in between the mattress and box springs.
Martha's way #6:
To easily remove burnt-on food from your skillet, simply add a drop or two of dish soap and enough water to cover bottom of pan, and bring to a boil on stovetop.
My way:
Eat at McDonald's every night and avoid cooking.
Martha's way #7:
Spray your Tupperware with nonstick cooking spray before pouring in tomato based sauces and there won't be any stains.
My way:
Feed your garbage disposal and there won't be any leftovers.
Martha's way #8:
When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking pan, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on the outside of the cake.
My way:
Go to the bakery. They'll even decorate it for you.
Martha's way #9:
If you accidentally put too much salt in a dish while it's still cooking, drop in a peeled potato and it will absorb the excess salt for an instant "fix me up"
My way:
If you over salt a dish while you are cooking, that's too bad. My motto: I made it and you will eat it and I don't care how bad it tastes.
Martha's way #10:
Wrap celery in aluminum foil when putting in the refrigerator and it will keep for weeks.
My way:
Celery? Never heard of it.
World’s easiest quiz:
1. How long did the Hundred Years War last?
2. Which country makes Panama hats?
3. From which animal do we get catgut?
4. In which month do Russians celebrate the October Revolution?
5. What is a camel's hair brush made of?
6. The Canary Islands in the Pacific are named after what animal?
7. What was King George VI's first name?
8. What color is a purple finch?
9. Where are Chinese gooseberries from?
10. How long did the Thirty Years War last?
Answers:
1. 116 years
2. Ecuador
3. Sheep and Horses
4. November
5. Squirrel fur
6. Dogs
7. Albert
8. Crimson
9. New Zealand
10. Thirty years
Things you learn from watching movies:
1. It’s easy for anyone to land a plane, providing there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.
2. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off, even while scuba diving.
3. The ventilation system of any building is the perfect hiding place. No one will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other part of the building you want without difficulty.
4. When paying for a taxi, don’t look at your wallet as you take out a bill. Just grab one at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.
5. Kitchens don’t have light switches. When entering a kitchen at night, you should open the fridge door and use that light instead.
6. A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a stadium.
7. Medieval peasants had perfect teeth.
8. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.
9. It’s not necessary to say hello or goodbye when beginning or ending a phone conversation.
10. A man will show no pain while taking the most horrible beating but will flinch when a woman tries to clean his wounds.
11. Whenever a scary killer is chasing anyone, they choose to run upstairs rather than outside.
12. A player on a football field can look up into a crowd of a thousand and immediately spot their GF.
13. Television news bulletins usually contain a story that affects you personally at that precise time.
14. It’s always possible to park directly outside the building you are visiting.
15. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris.
Things to do at the mall:
Save a few ketchup packets from McDonald's to slurp on as snacks. Tell people that they're “astronaut food”.
Ask the groovy dude at the music store whether inflated CD prices are in pesos or rubles.
Teach pet store parrots new vocab words.
Wear pancake makeup and new clothes. Pose as a fashion dummy in junior departments. Scream occasionally.
Construct a new porch deck in the tool department of Sears.
Stare intently into a surveillance camera for an hour while rocking back and forth.
Test mattresses in a grubby pair of Wonder Woman pajamas.
Ask appliance personnel if they have any TV sets that play in Spanish only.
In the hardware department, ask how well a particular saw cuts through bone.
Rummage through the jelly bean bin at the candy store. Keep insisting that you lost a very expensive earring.
In the changing rooms, announce in a singing voice, “I see London, I see France…”
Leave on the plastic string connecting a new pair of shoes, and wander around the mall taking two-inch steps.
Answer any unattended service phones that ring in department stores and say, “Domino's.”
Try on flea collars at the pet store while occasionally pausing to scratch yourself.
Hula dance by the demonstration air conditioner.
la! this is what i do on a sick day at home, all by my lonesome
Product labels we always need:
On a Sear's hair dryer: "Do not use while sleeping."
(Gee but that's the only time I have to work on my hair.)
On a bag of Fritos: "You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside." (The shoplifter special)
On a bar of Dial soap: "Directions: Use like regular soap."
(And that would be how...?)
On some Swanson frozen dinners: "Serving suggestion: Defrost." (But it’s "just" a suggestion)
On Tesco's Tiramisu dessert (printed on bottom): "Do not turn upside down." (Too late!)
"Do not iron clothes on body." (But wouldn't this save me more time?)
On Boot's Children Cough Medicine: "Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication." (We could do a lot to reduce the rate of construction accidents if we could just get those 5-year-olds with head-colds off those forklifts.)
On Nytol Sleep Aid: Warning: May cause drowsiness. (One may only hope.)
On most Christmas tree lights it says "For indoor or outdoor use only." (As opposed to what...?)
On Sainsbury's peanuts: "Warning: contains nuts." (whoa! news flash!)
On a child's superman costume: "Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly." (I don't blame the company. I blame parents for this one.)
story!!!! old one, actually, yet story!!! anywho...tis called My Life by Captured Fare. Enjoy!
Green light. A girl dashed across the street, arms crammed to the brim with book stacked upon book, raven hair billowing after her. Her expression was neutral, lacking any luster it could, or might, have attained. Judging from pure speculation, she was in her mid-teens, and shone of Native American heritage.
As she reached the sidewalk on the other side, a firm hand clasped her shoulder. She whirled around, books flying off the top of the pile. Oblivious to their relocation, she glowered at the hand's owner. "Whoa, chill, girl!" The boy said, removing his hand from her shoulder. Kneeling down, he took up the books that had been tossed to the sidewalk.
"Phobophobia: How to Overcome it," he stacked the book on top of the others "How to Cover Up Your Tracks after the Perfect Crime," He added it to her armload "The True Facts about Viruses, Bacteria, and AIDS. Aura, what's going on in there?" He questioned, tapping her lightly on her forehead.
She stared at him, eyes slightly narrowed. "What Aura does on her own time is not any of Darrin's business." She sniffed, hoisting up her arms in attempt to give them a second's relief.
"And why don't you dress like everyone else?" Darrin sighed, glancing at the swarms of grey cramming the streets. "Because Aura is not like them, that she isn't" This time around there were traces of apprehension in her voice, and something else that planted a blockade between her mind and Darrin's. Darrin, though, would not dare mention the fact that she was leaking fear to her for his life. Aura was more sensitive than even she knew.
***
After Aura had shaken herself from Darrin, she strode down the street until cars were rare and houses were few. At that point, the road stopped at the worn, tombstone of a driveway. The house at the end seemed forcefully rooted to the spot, looking somewhat dismal. Nothing moved. The furniture inside were sitting ducks; empty thoughts shoved beneath an ashen roof. And how it reeked of rotting paint; of dying flesh: someone had passed away behind these barren walls. The resident, mind too confused to identify the scent of death and her own sanity, heaved the books again before continuing ahead. She came to a halt in front of the muted front door, a single book sliding from the mound she carried. She set her armload upon the bleak steps, fingers lightly brushing the cool cement. It was August. She didn't want to think about it; her mother was gone; just a day after her birthday, even.
Beating away at feelings of self pity, she shoved her hand into her bulging pocket, hooking her fingers in the keys. She jammed it into the lock on the monotonous door knob and forced open the door. Glancing downward, she hesitated only momentarily before she collected the books again.
She entered the stifling air of the house, dropping the keys and her mountain of reading material on a dining table just outside the kitchen. Lifting one of the books, she gave it a fleeting glance, and then walked to the foot of the stairs. Gazing into the depths of the hallway at their end, she exhaled slowly, taking one step, then another, then yet another.
Her logic made cruel mischief as her frantic mind looked ahead toward the top of the stairs, turning every creak into a scream for mercy, every groan into a fly that buzzed inside her ear.
Voices resonated in her mind, cries of anguish, telling her to bring all of the pain to an end; go away, just go away! The book flew from her hand as she clung to the strands of ebony hair, banging on her head, pleading the voices to leave her alone.
In the whirl of madness, her foot slipped on the edge of a stair. She plummeted down, until her hands hit the warped wood at the end of the staircase.
She lay on the floor, sobbing to the air, whispering thoughts of comfort to soothe herself. She cannot be afraid. Never, never, never could she let herself be frightened.
Collecting her broken soul from the ground, she rose, every inch of her trembling with exhaustion, and padded to the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator door. Alone on the second shelf up sat a cake. Her birthday cake. She could read the elegant blood-red letters; happy 15th birthday, Aura. She glared at it, mind numb. Reaching out, she pulled it out, took a handful, then returned it to its shelf, slamming the door behind it.
Pulling pieces from the sweet, she unthinkingly walked to the door, listening to the knob click as she turned it, and into the street, leaving the faded entrance ajar. She stopped for a minute, snapping her head toward the bushes beside her house. Though her slits of eyes could not see anyone, she could hear them. But the question was; was this person real? Pushing moment away from her memory, she continued out, around the house, toward the sea. The sea. She remembered it so well; happy days spent by her mother's side, holding her hand as they ran across the beach, wet sand clinging to their toes as they flew ocean-side, laughing at nothing. But that was not all she remembered. There were also cliffs. Ones that shadowed half of the stretch of waves that she knew so well.
Chewing another mouthful of cake, she finally knew where she was headed.
Inside the bushes, though, a pair of eyes watched over Aura. Darrin had followed her to the worn house; he knew that Aura had finally broken. Her soul had gone under; no warmth could touch her flesh as it once did. It would sting; the chill would bite it back, and then it would be gone forever.
Sucking his breath through his teeth, he stealthily crept from his hiding place, feet like that of a cat tracing Aura's steps.
***
Aura stood at the edge of the rocky protrusion on the mild landscape, towering over 35 feet above jagged boulders that ripped through the surface of the crashing waves. She crammed the last bit of white frosting into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue. Staring out to sea, where golden hues danced among a blue-jean sky, she felt the cold grip her with its arctic fingers, dragging her down into the depths of the blackness clinging to the edges of her élan vital. Though these feelings were a constant presence, she somehow felt that this time she could not escape, couldn't run to her mother for protection from the night.
Rubbing her arms in attempt to generate heat, she closed her eyes, edging closer to the cliff's rim.
"Aura, stop!" A voice cried out. It wasn't in her head; it was real this time. She slowly turned. "It's too late for Aura to stop now. This world is driving her insane." She stared at him, licking her parched lips "Aura said before that she is not like you, that she isn't. You talk the same, think the same, and you think that something is wrong because Aura is different from you. No wonder that Aura went crazy. No wonder that Aura killed her mother." She heaved a sigh of finality, then turned around, leaving Darrin groping at the air for something, anything to say to her.
Lifting her head to the sky above, she jumped.
i wouldnt know. im bored, and i have writers block, and i no longer have a crush to think of while i eat oreos, monkey upon it all. i think ill change my name again...
favorite song in the world, just found it (yay for 6 jars of clay cds!) im not putting it in my description because i know how annoying that is:
"Redemption"
We made it to a strange town
going down the wrong road
like any story retold
coudnt find a common ending
we're way gone, be gone
looking for our own way
we needed a distraction
you said you were redemption
we knew it as a wrong turn
we coulnt know the things wed gain
when we reach the other border
we look way out way down past the road we come from
we're looking at redemption
it was hidden in the landscape
of loss and love and fire and rain
never would have come this way
looking for redemption
now it just starts repeating itself, so im gonna stop here
I reaaaaally like this song, so tell me what you think in my guestbook
these are my two lists i made while in wyoming:
ATTRIBUTES MOST APPRECIATED IN GUYS
-anything other than blond hair (occasional exception)
-green or blue eyes (hazel is welcome as well)
-soft lips (yay for chapstick!)
-fuzzy hair ^.^
-oval face
-normal or muscular body
-not too short (please!)
__Personality
-funny/sense of humor
-likes animals
-runs/does sports
-smart
THINGS MY FAMILY (MOMS SIDE) ALL HAVE IN COMMON
-cant live without a dog
-men (most)wear cowboy boots/hats
-women cook
-women sew, do photobooks, homey stuff like that (except for me)
-have a particular liking for jeans
-appreciate good food (not always the fancy stuff, usually cafe, bakery, etc.)
-have a sense of humor
-make fun of each other
-artistic
-enjoy watching an occasional football game (i blame the superbowl)
-wears plaid (maybe that's where the obsession came from)
there has been yet another request for dan xuan spring from Sir Funki Munki. if i had more story, i would post it, but alas, there is no more...o.O but, if you would still like to request it, then thats fine with me ^.^
i will be putting up my other story next. it doesnt have a title, so feel free to make your imput, on it as well as Spring, and leave it in my guestbook
there has been a request for more (im sorry if i cannot offer the coke...)soo...here is Dan Xuan Spring, continued:
“Haruki.” The mistress responded, looking to her resting pad.
“If you may, could you be so kind as to come with me to the shrine?”
She sighed “I suppose. Xuan, I would like that tea when I get back, please.”
I mustered a small smile “Yes, mistress.”
The sensei caught my eye and smiled, and I felt I could do no better than to look down to the creaking wood panels in response, blushing intensely.
I heard footsteps, the creaking of the dying porch, and the screen door being slid open and closed.
Taking in the scent of wild cherry blossoms that veiled the silky aroma of the incense, I walked to the back door, which led to the sugar cane fields, where the Tojima boys usually worked, except for this day, which their father, the house’s sen’in***, said that they were free to do what they chose.
As I walked along the rows of yellow-brown stalks, I breathed in the fresh air, and remembered.
“Dan Xuan Spring, hm?” An elderly man, shortened by the pull of the earth, head
bald and bushy white eyebrows raised in curiosity commented, apparently surprised at a commoner holding such a fine, nearly royal name, one almost worthy of China’s very empress.
“Yes. Now may I trade this rice for your tankan or not?”
He looked at me from under the cover of his eyebrows. “Alright, but I’ll only take half of what you offer. Such a pretty young girl deserves much more than what she is getting.” I looked down and blushed crates of moshi as I reached out the hand bearing the cotton bag of the grain. The man poured some into a basket, then added my tankan to the bag.
“Thank you!” I yelled as I hurried on my way away from the fruit stand, tracing my steps home. Being only fourteen, and having been graced with great beauty at my birth, I had grown used to comments from the locals I happened to interact with.
Opening the bag as I walked, I drew it to my face and took a deep breath, the oranges nearly filling my stomach already. My fascination with Japanese culture had grown to the point that I had memorized several words in the language, enough to almost speak fluently enough for conversation.
I swung my home’s wooden door ajar and skipped to the kitchen, where my mother was cooking rice for supper over our small fire.
“Mama, look! I brought tankan!” I exclaimed, bringing up the orange so she could see. She looked up to me and smiled. “Thank you. We can have it with dinner tonight.” I closed my eyes and smiled, rubbing my stomach “Sounds good!”
“And, Spring,” She started, straightening herself and smoothing her threadbare cotton clothes “Your father and I have decided that it is time that you go off on your own to work for your own money. We don’t have much, but the most we could do is send you to Japan. You would find better work there than here.”
I stood grounded for seconds, staring into her. I had supposed that it was time that I would leave my family; take one burden from their back, but I had never thought to prepare myself for it. My mind had been blown to pieces, and was being carried away by the wind.
“Yes, Mama. When will I leave?” I hesitantly whispered, my heart drumming frantically. “We can send you on the ship in a week’s time.”
I looked down and blew out my used air in attempt to tame my heart.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Aah!” I cried, a searing pain suddenly shooting through my foot. It tingled and burned with such ferocity like no twig could have caused. I glanced down to my ankle to discover a two yard long Habu clinging to my achilles tendon. I reached over and snapped part of one of the sugar cane off and lashed out at the snake with it, beating it down. Slowly, its grip loosened, until its carcass lay in a heap of bloody pulp.
Collapsing onto the ground, I gripped at the flesh above the wound so hard that I thought I would cut myself. Then, bending my spine into a u shape, I sucked at the wound twice over. Spitting out the last of the cursed blood onto my assailant’s body, I loosened my grip and sat in the dirt, an irony taste strong my mouth, and my heart beating wildly from loss of blood.
Getting up, I limped back to the house, leaning on the protrusions of sugar cane along the way. My ankle throbbed, and fresh blood had seeped out of the openings in my skin.
I found my way through the slide door, and collapsed onto the tiles of the center room.
The world was spinning around me, and my only choice was to close my eyes and wait for it to stop.
I was swirling in a vortex of nothing. The clouds were my lullaby, and the wings of angels were my quilt. My eyes were closed, but I could still see. A voice! A voice as close as a heartbeat called out to me.
“Spring, wake up.” My eyes were opened to unveil the sensei shaking my shoulder gently. “Are you tired? What’s wrong?” I waited a moment for my eyes to clear. A throbbing pain in my ankle reminded me of my troubles. I swallowed, taking a deep breath through my nose as I shifted my weight in order to sit up.
“A Habu bit me.” I smiled weakly “It is okay. I am fine now.” He smiled “That is good to know. Why don’t you wait to catch your breath before you get up.” With that, he rose and left the room, leaving me with the sen’in, who had been watching us.
“A Habu, hm?” He looked at me playfully “It seems someone was wandering in the fields again.” I smiled “I was feeling homesick, that’s all.” He nodded in agreement and sympathy “Hard to believe that it has been two years since you came here, isn’t it. And remember Haruki’s accomplishment
I only smiled, trying not to encourage the old man.
“Oh!” He exclaimed, getting up “There is also something that I would like to give to you.” He rapped his knuckles on his head. “I finally remembered. It seems this old mind is wearing down.”
He left for a minute or so, rustling through something in the room just off of the one I sat in. Later, he emerged, holding a linen kimono. The design of an elegant dragon twisted around meticulous weavings of cherry and plum blossoms.
I reached out to touch the blue sash, feeling the finest silk. Running my hand over it, I shook my head “I cannot take this.”
He smiled, as if he knew I would say that “But you have to. Or else I will make Haruki sleep at his great-grandmot
I laughed, ringing like a bell “When you put it that way…” Smiling, I took the kimono into my arms
Come suppertime, I served seasoned potatoes and beef served on rice, and ended with one piece of moshi per person. It was hard to keep up with cooking the meal, though, for living in a house with seven males meant that there was to be nothing left over.
I could see the sen’in, and felt happy for him. His wife had passed away some four years ago, and when I had come two years after her death, he was still in mourning for her loss. His children, though made up for her absence, and kept him from being all too lonely those four years, though he took special care of his daughter, Kaori, for she was the only female presence in his life. Until I had come along, at least.
For his kindness, I was able to work for pay as a maid for him, and now can talk to me as if he were my own father, but more like if he were my brother.
What’s more, he kept my presence hidden from the neighbor, Yotsuya. Being a nasty voyeur, he would have certainly had his sight set for me, at the risk of sounding vain.
He learned to keep me away from outside exposure when I had caught the eye of one particular criminal who had a quite interesting story behind him.
To be continued…(though im not really going to be working on it for a while...)
heres a little bit of my lovely story Dan Xuan Spring:
I stood in the doorway, whose rotting wood creaked and groaned as it tried to hold me up. Water from washing our thin linen clothes skittered into the air as I waved goodbye to the rest of the cantankerous Tojima family males. Only one looked back, slightly waving his hand, as if it were a nuisance to do so, then turned back and joined in the illicit conversation.
Shaking my head for the worry that wracked my brain of what they might be up to the coming day, I turned back to the paneled floor and found the sensei’s, or teacher's sister sitting on a pad on the floor. Smoky wisps of incense coming from the ostentatious cedar holder swirled around her chestnut skin as she bowed her head.
“Mistress?” I asked quietly. “Yes?” Her eyes remained closed.
“The boys have left.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Would you like some tea? Or maybe even a small bit of sake?”
A minute grin traced her lips, and her eyes opened “Tea would be fine, thank you.”
“Kaori?” A young alto voice vibrated the air. My head was turned in the direction of the sensei, who was, by appearance, only a year or two older than me. I was timid; too shy for my own good, which resulted in my blushing in his presence, and stammering like a fool, if I could speak at all.
“Haruki.” The mistress responded, looking to her resting pad.
“If you may, could you be so kind as to come with me to the shrine?”
She sighed “I suppose. Spring, I would like that tea when I get back, please.”
I mustered a small smile “Yes, mistress.”
The sensei caught my eye and smiled, and I felt I could do no better than to look down to the creaking wood panels in response, blushing intensely.
I heard footsteps, the creaking of the dying porch, and the rice paper door being slid open and closed.
if you would like more, please ask o.O
sakkaku here. issues here as well. (we come as a combo. would you like fries and a coke with that? sorry ameros, i just had to say it). just had a big, fat, lovely conversation with my friend about apricots, crapricots, grapes, peaches, spiced peaches, and the whole darn fruitcake with a cherry in the middle (if you dont know what im talking about, please ask me o.O) it was quite entertaining. i also listened to ikari and infidelitys love sing in their 'choir'. twas quite scary. i do think that i was exposed to one 'jingle' too many.
inquiring about lost loonie. tis small, metal and canadian. please report back if found! (my coin collection isnt complete without it!!!)
i do believe that we had a jolly old time at the rich-peoples mall playing jazz music to SOLs (snazzy old ladies) of which Ameros Rithlowne and I are going to adopt so they can buy us all the cows in the world. i love that place now, its like a cross between southwest and costco. oh yeah! also, they had these lovely tables with FOOD all over them. additionally, when opening my mouth to eat a meatball, my bracket rubberband snapped and flew gracefully through the air into ameros's coffee. we had an even jollier old time over that. i think that ameros giggled himself into obilivion.
yeah...i am now going to write my jaded poem
"Jaded" (<---oh yeah)
corruption has grasped me
it gushes into my icy heart filling me with contempt;
utterly jaded
i am invisible to you
you cannot see me through this two-way mirror
whisps of mist circle my eyes as i stare into obivivion
utterly jaded
i fell off the world last when it turned
i float in a sea of barrenness
burned by the stars on one side
frozen by the shadows on the other
my eyes are tarnished with scarlet
crimson blots stain my hands
this world has driven me out
and i am utterly jaded
oh yeah!!! i managed to say utterly jaded three times!!! arent you proud of me? ^.^
uhhhhh....hmmm
as of tonight, it is my duty to get Ameros Rithlowne off his lazy buttocks and go jogging with me!!!
*giggles evilly*
i learned a new word! jaded. isnt that SOOOOO cool? im gonna use it in another one of my lovely fatallistic poems!