Brilliant people are always the most unhappy, they say.

( Up for interpretation )

We are nothing but the playthings of our own invented hope. It seems like so, doesn't it? Pull a string here, pull a string there ( Read more... )

evil beaver punk: sara. you are the flash to my green lanturn ( Read more... )

It's incredible what happens when someone mutates the truth. Have you noticed that’s been occurring often? Granted, senses tend to fail when sensation seduces, but there is no excuse for idly flinging around untruths---- or worse, believing them. If I wanted to live in an Orwell novel, I’d have taken certain news agencies for gospel. What sort of ( Read more... )

Do you remember when apathy wasn't your most abused "emotion"?

Arthur Miller died last night, February 10th 2005. I wanted to declare something beautiful, something poetic about a man who was considered America's greatest playwright. But, at this moment, I am too distraught to even convey a wisp of his former brilliance.

So I leave you with a simple farewell; eighty-nine is but the cusp of life.

You know why people tend to form groups of political or social bearings? Possibly to fill that empty, consuming void that incessantly gnaws at their souls ( Read more... )

Sum up your definition of love within one sentence. It can be any kind of love: romantic, spiteful (there is such a thing), plutonic, or ironic, et cetera.

POST ANONYMOUSLY because I command it so. Or defy me, if you dare.

Time for a release, everyone. For those of you out there in your own personal netherworld (much like myself) who need to just say what you yearn to, but can’t (we’ll blame it upon the restrictions of society) I’m offering a chance. Post whatever lurks on your mind here. Be it angst, disgrace, torture, about me, yourself, or your favorite political ( Read more... )