This is my last post on this LJ.

If you suddenly find yourself gripped with a strong desire to know what's going on with me, there's always email.

Bye!~ :D

The vestiges of the lines of Robert Frost's poem, Birches, appeared blurred on my wet, cold hands. It used to read

I'd like to get away

from earth awhile
Now extremely difficult to make out as it blends into my skin. Each step further towards home made me a little happier more eager for spring, and to sway as the birch trees do when the small boys ( Read more... )

This whole "doinghomeworkonthebed" thing isn't working out all too well. Maybe I'll play a game entitled "dohomeworkattheschoolibrarybeforeIgohome". Now THAT sounds like a fun game.

Someone buy me a vintage desk. Thanks.

His life flashed before my eyes...I saw him struggle for breath. Spastic movements as he struggled. I was afraid.picked him up when it was almost too late. I watched him choke. Suffocate. He choked for breath. I didn't know what to do. I was so much bigger than he was, yet completely helpless. Then, the science gears started turning in my head. The ( Read more... )

This is going to be the most coherent post that I've made in quite a while ( Read more... )

I AM THE RUBIK'S CUBE MASTAH.

The seething scientist's breathing becomes heavy as her caretaker bombards her with questions.

Sleepovers are pretty cool.. with a thousand people.. and small people named Tony Tran. LOLOLOLL...

The End.

I hate nutella. That is all.

( DELIRIUM. NO LOOOKZ PLZ. )