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A Sadstuck of Rage and HeartKurloz slouched down onto the dirty pavement of the alleyway. Sirens wailed past the alleyway where he hid, and remained in the distance, a constant background noise. The city was crowded, yet he felt so alone. He wanted to cry, but he forced himself not to. His dad had gotten angry at him again, and Kurloz couldn't figure out why.
The sky was quickly going dark, and Kurloz thought about going home, but thought better of it. Better to let his dad cool off and start worrying about him. The streetlights and vehicle headlights glared through the evening light, and the overcast sky began to pour rain onto the earth. Kurloz's black hoodie and grey jeans became soaked in a matter of seconds, and he sighed, head resting on the grimy brick wall behind him.
The far end of the alley was a dead end, but there was a slight outcrop from higher up the building that would shelter him from the rain. He got up and then collapsed on a garbage bag once he was under the shelter, and then jumped up suddenl
Fate and DestinyFate and Destiny
The girl called Fate, and the boy called Destiny met together one night among the starry skies.
“Which of us is better?” the white-haired Fate asked.
“Whichever is less painful,” replied the raven-haired Destiny.
And thus began the rivalry.
Fate decided that she would govern the lives of humans and decide what would happen to them from the day they were born to the day they died.
Destiny decided to guide the humans from the wrong paths and help them live to the fullest potential.
Fate was cruel, and many humans died. She watched their pain from her starry throne and laughed, for there was nothing their screaming souls could do.
Destiny was kinder, and the humans flourished under his rule. From his throne he could see their joy at their freedom to choose where they would go.
Centuries later, Fate confronted Destiny.
“How are you so much better than I, you who lets the foolish humans choose for themselves?”
He replied, “My dear F
Life and DeathLife and Death
Life sat in the garden,
Beneath the Tree of Wisdom.
A crunch from behind;
A dead bird;
And Death walked out from the forest.
Life’s eyes lit up;
Her brother came to see her!
She rushed to greet him
“Oh, dear brother, how I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too, little Life”
But he knelt down and pushed her away.
Life was confused, and pain flashed through her mind
A horrid disease had nestled in her arm!
“Brother, what’s happening to me?!”
Cried little Life hysterically.
“Oh, little one, all good things must end.”
And all Death did was grin
And take Life’s breath away.
Even in Death.
Eyes On Fire,
Three In the Morning,
I Need Some Sleep.
Kids With Guns,
We Are Young.
Kill Your Heroes,
Once Upon A Time.
A Taste For Adventure.
Somebody Told Me,
She’s a Rebel.
…And Then She Bled.
Jack the King of FrostJack the King of Frost,
Was not meant to be King at all.
But his crown-prince brother ran away,
So then Jack had no more time for play.
A year he ruled, for his father was ill,
With grief for the run-away Luce,
Until he died in his sleep,
And Jack had to rule alone.
Another year passed, and the kingdom was in ruins
For jack was a terrible ruler.
He was confused and had no assistance,
So he made terrible decisions.
His brother returned after 2 years gone,
With his new wife by his side.
He expected to be welcomed heartily by the family he had left,
But instead was turned away.
Jack grew angry and his family felt betrayed,
For Luce was supposed to be ruler.
"If you hadn't left, this never would've happened!"
And Jack rushed at Luce with his sword.
A fight ensued, and Luce ended up dead
Because he couldn't kill his baby brother.
His mother and sisters cried, because they couldn't stop them in time,
And so all three went away.
Jack, poor Jack, the King of Frost
Everyone he ever loved is los
Chronicle of a Past WinterThere has been only a few moments in my life where I have truly felt alive. The following bit of writing is a small chronicle detailing one of those events:
Four years ago this December, I was a very different person than the person who sits here writing this today. I was 16 and a junior at a local high school. I was skinny as a twig after lots of weight in during the previous year.
The year had been up and down. I had fallen in and out of love with a girl who was more confusing than a rubik's cube. A month after our break up, I lost my grandpa. He had always been an inspiration to me and he had always shown me how powerful knowledge really can be. I want to be the kind of man he was and I will never forget the impact he had on my life. Somehow in all of it I managed to stay sane and grind my way through day-by-day and month-by-month.
The first four months of school flew by fast. My Chinese improved rapidly as I took up as a teacher's assistant with my Chinese teacher. I was att
The SunflowerMy grandpa had a garden
It was the most magical thing I had ever known
And is probably the reason I love nature so much now
When I was little, he would take me outside to his fields, where rows of beautiful flowers, plump tomatoes, and so much more were planted in straight rows. Behind that was a green patch where an Indian tribe had made their home for what seemed like a very, very long time. We found arrow heads scattered almost everywhere, and even the occasional bone or two. Nearly all of my childhood memories resided in his yard. Well, either there or his kitchen. But thats a different story
I remember going to the store with him, hand in hand. We picked out seeds for the years crops. He would get the seeds packs he needed, and I got the seeds packs that had pictures I didn't know, because "I wanted to see every plant that ever existed." My words exactly. My grandpa would laugh and tell me there was way to many plants for that kind of dream, but I still wanted to try. I had always
Singer and PlayerGuitar Playing
" Baby I'm going to leave you"
Maybe I don't understand subtle.
But I sang your tunes
Listened to your blues.
Sometimes, making music
was the only way I could talk to you
the ache in my heart was so loud
that I thought you had plucked it out,
and played with my veins
the most beautiful melody
but would never let me hear it
I wonder constantly
What am I supposed to do?
But I still sang
like a little caged bird
trapped in the hollow of your guitar.
Sun and MoonSome days I can't sleep
Smell your cologne in my sleep
Remember my childish squealing
Remember that now I'm still healing
From the cigarette burns,
that you left on my heart,
From the pills that were left in me
Poison from the start.
Do you remember,
the first time we met?
Eyes across the hallway
and the beating of my heart
Just like your guitar
and the squealing of the
children around you.
Oh the irony
Maybe I'll tell you one day.
But did you count
every day that went by?
because I know that I counted
every sleepless night
When I wondered where you'd gone
and if you were alright.
And the what if's that drove me crazy
and your motives that were unknown.
I swear I'm coming to California,
as soon as I get home.
If we'll still be able to get along.
Even if the time difference
is so wrong.
Can we still get tattooed?
If I don't speak to you.
If I can't trust you.
And the future
is so bright
Like the way I
Togliere il disturboNon fu straordinaria, speciale;
fu una storia come tante altre,
eppure merita d'esser scritta,
e stavolta almeno non per gli occhi di tutti.
Si vide e pensò che era ora di avere di più; subito rifletté e concluse che quel "di più" così vago aveva poco senso ma il solo averlo pensato le fece assaggiare la disperazione di ciò che non aveva e dentro di lei creava continue assenze che, seppur invisibili a chi le stava intorno, non lasciavano mai del tutto il suo sguardo che spesso puntava al nulla che le sembrava sempre troppo lontano.
Nel giro di pochi mesi, le sue condizioni divennero però manifeste e non poté nasconderle; la sua capacità di dissimulare divenne così flebile, tanto quanto la sua forza di inghiottire l'aria; si sentiva soffocare; letteralmente.
Preoccupati, più per educazione che per affetto, chi le stava accanto si prodigò affinché fosse curata; chi la visitò disse che in lei
Price 3 i 4PRIČA BROJ 3 – TRI DANA KADA SE U ZAGREBU OSKUPILO PREKO 14 TISUĆA OSOBA NA JEDNOM VAŽNOM SKUPU
Moja obitelj i ja smo Jehovini svjedoci. Svim Jehovinim svjedocima su važni veliki skupovi koji se održavaju tri puta godišnje. Jedan od njih se održava u ljetnim mjesecima i traje tri dana. Taj skup zovemo regionalni kongres Jehovnih svjedoka (do prije nekog vremena se zvao oblasni kongres Jehovinih svjedoka). Na njemu prisustvuju Jehovini svjedoci iz jedne države ili jednog dijela neke države. Ponekad se regionalni kongresi organiziraju tako da su na njih pozvani i delegati iz drugih zemalja te se isti govori iznose na jezicima delegata koji su pozvani da prisustvuju tom skupu. To su međunarodni kongresi Jehovinih svjedoka. U Zagrebu se redovito, svake godine, održavaju regionalni kongresi i na njima prisustvuje oko četiri tisuće osoba. Također, u Zagrebu se održao i jedan međunarodni kongres, a na
The Day of Dread 7/20/2014I've had some bad days. I think we all have. But never, have I ever, had a day as bad as 7/20/2014. Let's start with the interesting events of the night before!
I went to the bar with my dear friend Charlie, and we sang some karaoke and drank some drinks. Was an interesting night.. Had a drunk guy come up behind me, kiss the back of my head, grope the bartender and get 86'd. A bit later, outside with my buddy and I'm making the predator noise. This chick starts getting in my face, telling me "you're done. Go home. Get the fuck gone." I find this humorous as she is trying to be threatening and can't even hold herself up. A man that works at the bar told her to back up, and to stop being a bitch. Ends at that? Nope. After closing my tab and going out to my truck to leave (TACOS AHOY!) the girl that was in my face and her cousin start screaming at a car load of people for no reason. Charlie is already on his way out, but I stick around to make sure the two bartenders, who are really frail
In Lieu of Saying GoodbyeWhen you’re full you must become empty
When you’re empty you must become full
Without either of those things, you will not have the other
And to appreciate being full, you must know how it is to be empty
And that , in the end, both are temporary states.
And neither will last
Love is both being empty and being full.
It is flying so high, and still being able to touch the ground
It is fighting and making up.
It is being the best of friends, even though it’s only been a few months.
It is holding hands and skipping
It is sharing music
It is comforting each other when it’s all going to hell.
It is the little promises that are made and that can’t be kept.
It is the big promises that are made and fulfilled
It is the experiences you have, the places you go, the books you read, the things you watch and the music you listen to,
But most of all, it is the people you cherish and hold in your heart, even when they’re gone
Love is being empty and being full.
My Swimming StoryThis is a piece of my life that I’ve been keeping locked away for a long time. I don’t really like to open up about personal stories, but for the sake of people I hold dear, I wished to share it.
I hope you can glean something from it; whether that be inspiration, understanding, comfort, or anything you might need most internally in your life right now.
This is my Swimming Story.
I had been a competitive swimmer since age 5 (though I really started swimming when I was 4. I have one of those awesome moms that signs her kid up for everything in town; dance, soccer, drawing, sculpting, crafts, piano, violin, cello, track, debate, horseback riding heck even foreign policy for toddlers… I did just about everything our little town had to offer, but that’s a different story).
Swimming came pretty natural for me. I always loved the water, even at the end of spring and start of fall; I was the first one in
Ode to Andrew HussieOde to Andrew Hussie
He who has written so much
About four kids
And 24 (36?) of an alien race
And how everyone dies and yet
Are still alive
Through some slim chance.
Detectives and gang-member mobsters
Have met the same fate
Of dying over and over again
But are still alive to the reader’s great joy
Or chagrin, if the re-undead is a foe.
But it is all still the same.
You have achieved what so many strive for:
To be well known by thousands
And then maybe millions.
And I congratulate you,
You have become a god.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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