

Episode NineI said goodbye to my friends and stepped outside to smoke one last cigarette.Episode Nine
The chorus, "Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies," was playing in my head -
the windows displayed me standing straight in a long, black coat, exhaling smoke.
Like the final scene of a television show.
I remember thinking that was the point when I put out my cigarette and walked inside: roll credits.
But the windows in the hall were also reflecting me and maybe that would be the final scene.
Getting into an elevator


Appelt ParkA paper taped to the tree statedAppelt Park
that fishing was strictly forbidden for two weeks so the river could be
repopulated with fish.
I'd rather have gone to the dam, but I didn't realize it then.
Davor and I sat on a bench watching this outdoor aquarium while we smoked cigarettes, talked music technology, and cleared our heads of the week.
"If you took me out of my environment and dropped me into a new one with hundreds of strangers,
I'd probably bite
the first hook out of there
too."
"Probably," he says, "Ex


Thesis DeconstructionThe walls of Mike's bedroom are a collage of friends and moments in history.Thesis Deconstruction
He likes to call it "Art Over Time" -
you can even hear the Capital Letters.
It was fair game to write or draw whatever you wanted. Here I used someone's squares to prove the Pythagorean Theorum.
There is a haiku I wrote:
It says goes on clear But my armpits have become A frosty tundra.
Everyone had to add something. To the timid folk he'd say, "You say, 'I can't draw'. But anyone


What I KnowI had these ideas once of writing a play.What I Know
It was genius, I thought, taking place in one long diner scene.
People would come, drink coffee, smoke their cigarettes and leave. But most importantly, they would talk.
It would show everyone for what they were. Two faced, eager to please, backstabbing, lonely.
So many characters, so many dramatic cliques.
But I never wrote it because I'm lazy and because drama sells. It would've sold and people would have fallen in love &nb
Devious Comments
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
It's not that I'm tired of reading your gallery over and over again, but I would like to see more hot and steamy sexy things-- or, err. I mean..
good, clean, quality fun!
--
talking with my hands
in more ways than one.
--
*official website
*Flickr
*iStockphoto
*JPG Magazine
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*official website
*Flickr
*iStockphoto
*JPG Magazine
--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
--
*official website
*Flickr
*iStockphoto
*JPG Magazine
sup squirt? haven't heard from you for a while...how's life and whatnot?
oh and also, congrats on making DD and being featured
you should come around more...just my two cents
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hakuna matata? | daily lubbing
Upon getting out of bed, and coming downstairs, I immediately looked up the word "born-again."
The second definition is the one I looking for.
2. Characterized by renewal, resurgence, or return:
Normally born-again modifies a noun, like Christian, but I am interested mainly in its viability as a noun. You can use born-again as a noun, can't you? Oh, he's a born-again. So, this leads me up to my realization for you, Aquarius. It is nigh time you become a born-again born-again. That is, I want your renewal, resurgence and return to be characterized by renewal and resurgence and return. I want you to play with that thought. I want you to be renewed in your renewing. Resurged by your resurging. And I want your rebirth to be reborn. All in the coming weeks to boot!
--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
*watches*
--
Don't tell me you're afraid of the past
It's only the future that didn't last
-Idlewild 'Love Steals Us From Loneliness'
Seriously, though.. Thanks
--
A ~scottish member of ~photogenius
--
We're so hung up, we can't put the phone down.
Call me back.
--
(Dark-eyed Boy, sing me the blues
your sweet southern blues;
I will always want you.)
~M
--
Have you ever written poetry for an "object of desire" and given it to that person, unsure of how he/she might react? Please answer here: [link]
--
...and if i'm not back in 5 minutes...wait longer!
"We shall bring the beauty of erotic poetry to the masses"
[link]
--
Soy humano así que no soy perfecto = - )
--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
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