

Life in IntermissionI have no grip, my limbs have all but severed ties with the rest of my being. I've let go.Life in Intermission
If only it were that easy. To give up and to reconstruct, but everything comes at a price. Trade in your grief for an ounce of comfort in hopes of it lasting a lifetime. But a minute cannot be stretched into a mile and a mile cannot reach the depths of heaven...or even hell at the present. What we would give to exchange ways; to live how we see fit.
However, is there anything left for us once we've released what was close mindedly considered rightfully ours? In a way haven't we then given up our rights to life. We've relinquish


Desperate Authority Regret, perception and provision: these three may never coincide, but in my mind they've never been closer in contact.Desperate Authority
So close that they may at once overlie to the brink of virtue, a value only attained by strife and fortitude.
We've forgotten the ethics of others so that we may live our way, a way that causes underlying deterrents that we have buried along with our souls. But why, what have we gained? Knowledge? Supremacy? The answer depends on the conditions rather than the person. That is, after all, the way it's meant to be. Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for th


So much moreThe following is exaggerated. I don't really think this was (I'm not that negative lol), but this is what I feel others have tried to make me feel. No one should ever have to feel inferior to others especially not purposely. So read this if you would like and take it for what you will, just know that hope can always be present.So much more
I never feel safer than when I'm lying in this hole. I built my bed here so I must be meant to sleep here. To live here. To breathe here. To contemplate where I could be. No, rather to contemplate where I'll never be...who I'll never be. To believe is to admit deceit and to imagine is a waste of time. Wast


While Writing a Love PoemDo not repeat what she knows --While Writing a Love Poem
that her eyes are beautiful, that stars have a peculiar tendency to wink at opportune moments, that even oceans can sing if one is willing to listen
and that your heart is unbattered enough to love still.
Do not loop the ink in fancy patterns 'cross the page pretending you are a great poet from ages past when presentation was mostly more important than content.
She is not the fanciful sort & disguises bore her.
Do not tell her you love her. Do not tell her the world will stop spinni


Killing WordsTo lose something so dear, So close, so nearKilling Words
Is it worth it?
Is it something that should be?
Was it never good enough for me?
Danger
Death
To that part of me
That is me, Keeps me registered in this world-
With a distinct voice, A distinct line among the dots. Should I abandon it? Let it rot? Would it be good for me? To kill off this side of me? To lose it completely?
"Yes" They say. "It's not the correct way. So, yes throw it away." So cruel, heartless, empty the
by =hoschie
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Woo-hoo I'm crazy!...... or am I? Muwhahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Celebrating 4 years of the same possibly crazy sig.
Tis alllll good.
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Woo-hoo I'm crazy!...... or am I? Muwhahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Celebrating 4 years of the same possibly crazy sig.
Well I'm going on Monday... so no worries.
--
Woo-hoo I'm crazy!...... or am I? Muwhahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Celebrating 4 years of the same possibly crazy sig.
--
Woo-hoo I'm crazy!...... or am I? Muwhahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Celebrating 4 years of the same possibly crazy sig.
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