• Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, gone 7 months, 1 week ago

    It was here, but now it’s gone. The light inside that led you through the dark. Maybe now you have no hope because you don’t need it anymore. Maybe everything is perfect, even though perfect is fake. It’s […]

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, help 7 months, 3 weeks ago

    Somebody could help you up when you fall, or help you with your homework. You could also be the help. (p.s. the movie is complete crap compared to the book)

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, quest 12 months ago

    On a quest I can’t complete. There is no hope but to doubt.

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, calling 12 months ago

    I could hear them calling… Calling my name… Calling me to the place where dreams are shattered; where death swallows you hole. Don’t take one step I warn you inside of that graveyard because once you do you’ll […]

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, pile 1 year ago

    The pile of clothes sat untouched on the floor. His mother couldn’t stand to be near them. His father hadn’t even touched the door. His sister cried ’cause they were they smelled like him. And he, he was laying on […]

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, base 1 year ago

    I stand at the base of the tower. It collapsed when the world shook. Broken glass lays about, but I really don’t care. Blood has seeped through the backs in the ground, and there are cuts on my feet, but I’m […]

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, backspace 1 year ago

    How many times can you hit the backspace within your lifetime? A thousand times? A million? More? I just hit it at least 20 times.

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, insect 1 year ago

    An insect, a parasite, in my mind they aren’t that different. They both bite you, but one clings. They both can be small, but insects can be larger?

  • Erin Jane Moore joined the group Group logoDreams 1 year ago

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, disregard 1 year ago

    I should want to disregard your past like you, but no, I wish for you to tell me more. You promised me today, that someday you’ll tell me everything. Please let that day come soon.

  • Erin Jane Moore commented on the post, disregard 1 year ago

    I disregard many things now at days. I disregard my daily email updates from this website, and I disregard things my friends say. Maybe it’s for the better, but oh I don’t now. When somebody tells you, “I think […]

  • Erin Jane Moore posted a new activity comment: 1 year, 5 months ago

    In reply to - catyeah posted an update in the group Truth: Truth is, Unless you’re Beautiful, Popular, Or Dying, No one seems to give a shit. • View
  • Erin Jane Moore posted a new activity comment: 1 year, 5 months ago

    :)

    In reply to - catyeah posted an update: There’s a difference between dying, and never having existed. If you never existed, if the idea of you never existed, then no one could possibly miss you. Right now, and more often than is probably healthy, I honestly wish I had never existed. Maybe it’s because I haven’t done anything worthwhile with my life yet, maybe it’s because I never will. Maybe it’s because I know that if I had never existed, the people around me would have so fewer problems. Maybe it’s because I feel like even if some people around me want me around, I know that if they’d never met me, they wouldn’t spend hours at night wishing for someone just like me. And now that I’m here, on this god-forsaken planet, I know that I’m stuck here, until some act of nature, or god, or some maniac with a pistol decides it’s my time to go. But it’s not my choice. I couldn’t possibly make that choice. So I’ll eat. I’ll drink. I’ll breath. I’ll sleep. Some days, I’ll waste time writing things no one will read, or drawing things no one will see. I’ll think up dreams that’ll never happen, and I’ll meet people that are only real to me. I’ll live. No, less than that. I’ll exist. And only that, because I don’t seem to have a choice. • View
  • She slouched over her laptop writing furiously. Line after line was produced within seconds. Soon she had finished her book and it was to be sent off to several different publishing offices, and then all she would have to do is wait for a reply.

  • The abstract shapes jumbled together in my mind. My senses honed in on the figure standing behind me. He is a block I thought. A crude, poorly angled block made of squares and out of wood. Yes, solid wood.

  • She sat looking out at the downpour wondering when her brother might come home. Her mother fretted down the the hallway while her father sat downing a beer. He had to come home soon she thought over and over again.

  • I sighed slamming my head against his locker. If I couldn’t get this combination correct I just might die. I just had to get the pictures back!

  • She cried and profoundly thought deeper about what had happened minutes ago. Betrayal.

  • “Passionate,” she mumbled to herself, “The characters must be passionate.”

  • Someday I wish to have a husband, but now, who knows. I’m locked in this cell for the crime I’ve committed. I’ve locked myself away inside my mind. Memories caged, and actions limited because of myself. I can’t find the key as I’ve lost it, lost them long ago. It’s not my fault. It’s his.

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