once upon a midnight dreary, while i pron surfed, weak and weary, over many a strange and spurious site of ' hot xxx galore'. While i clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour, " 'Tis not possible!", i muttered, " give me back my free hardcore!"..... quoth the ( Read more... )

Very angry.  And hurt, and confused and-- even though I was somewhat happier today than I have been for this past week-- very unhappy right now, and very angry.

You told me to write and to speak to you, that you perferred I be brutal and honest than quiet and closed off from you.  This is the only way that I can say everything I feel I want/need ( Read more... )

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Lag, it’s been a rough week.  Full of choices, deadlines, tests and homework, it’s of my own doing, and right now I just need to sit down and focus.  It’s really rough and tense around home, in school, and at work… there are too many decisions that need to be made, preparations for when I leave, and scholarships that I cannot do in the time that I ( Read more... )

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This morning, for fear of missing the alarm clock, my body chose to wake up at 6:02. on the dot. and it chose to remind me that I had come back from a weekend excursion with my family across the Channel to get the replacement landrover-- now in spiffy "Champagne" coloring. I was also reminded that I didn't like the trip too much-- because, up ( Read more... )

Much love, Theodore.

The leaves have lost their green;

the world of twenty years ago

was better left unseen....

Much love, Theodore--

from stories left untold,

and dreams I’ve never dreamed about,

and thoughts I’ve never known....

I started writing to Theodore a good couple of months ago, after one night of letting my mind wonder and seeing ( Read more... )

Ladies and gentlemen ( Read more... )

Nadya Hand

(23 NOV 1986- 15 MAR 2019)

On my headstone rests a sleeping woman

Her head lying on a stack of books,

And her marble hands stained with ink from the pen

That dangles between her fingers.

All through my life I was writing,

Writing stories of fiction to the outside world

Knowing all along that they were only stories of a

Remarkable ( Read more... )

( Read more... )