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Everything around her was caos. She didn’t know how it ended up like this, but the constant noises and movement around were making her dizzy. It was HIS fault, and everything around him wasn’t normal.

Posted By Alex On 07.01.2012 @ 6:09 pm

It wasn’t that he was hyperactive, it was just that he liked being in motion. Inactivity made him nervous and didn’t seem normal to him, things got too quiet when they weren’t moving and the room seemed boring and lifeless without it.

Posted By Alex On 07.01.2012 @ 4:56 pm

It is the day after Friday, which still makes people think of Rebecca Black’s horrible song. Today is Saturday. Saturday makes me think of satyrs, but it is actually named after Saturn. Most of the other days are named after gods. Lots of them are Norse gods, like Thor, Freya, and Odin

Posted By alex On 06.30.2012 @ 9:08 am

Crust? What kind of crust? Like pizza crust? I love pizza. Or do you mean gross crust, like crust on something gross. Crust reminds me of rust. They also rhyme. Rust on a car, before I was going to say crust on a car but that sounds weird.

Posted By Alex On 06.28.2012 @ 11:08 pm

i like it but ilove soft crust better. When i think of it i think about pizza. I also remembered how my life was on geography. nostalgic on my freshie days in highschool

Posted By Alex On 06.28.2012 @ 9:47 pm

Tony always liked the crusts cut off his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, even after he turned 18. He left home, went off to college like all the other well behaved kids in his town, and in the cafeteria he’d have to painstakingly peel the crusts off his sandwiches. It was in those moments that he missed his mother.

Posted By Alex On 06.28.2012 @ 7:41 pm

Soups are nice and yummy especially when it is warm. But when its cold it doesnt taste just as good as it was when it was hot…warm. I think soup makes everyone feel better :) i know it makes me feel better. Enjoy soup, specially some made from mum and dad.

Posted By Alex On 06.26.2012 @ 1:51 am

He dropped the spoon and it clattered to the floor, spilling thin red liquid across his shoes.

“Alan?” His wife poked her head in from the bedroom. She looked concerned. Newly awoken.

“I won’t do it again,” he said quietly.

Posted By Alex On 06.25.2012 @ 3:17 pm

i really don’t know what to write about this word. I don’t want to sit here too long and think about it or else I will lose all my time. Things should not be thought about but simply just done. Sometimes the best things happen when you don’t really think, but simply just do. Time flies so make the best of it.

Posted By alex On 06.23.2012 @ 5:40 pm

i’ve already been typing for minutes. time is so ambiguous, a minute is a lie. a minute was created to accompany all other measurements of time, to control the masses. the minutes are a supplement to progression, the progression of those who do not wish to live in the very present minute in which they exist. the minutes are a ticking time bomb.

Posted By Alex On 06.22.2012 @ 8:05 pm

framework- defining what is defining whats not in between those lines i see what’s what the way things are the way they aren’t so simple and true what is inside his heart

Posted By alex On 06.18.2012 @ 6:04 am

Pouring rain in the garden. it feels endless, rain is just something we feel, don’t see, it’s endless, tears for you and me; pouring is something we do when having liquid and a glass, we pour to drink to cry, to live, to survive.

Posted By Alex On 06.16.2012 @ 6:31 pm

i like to pour milk with cerial its a magic feeling i get it tastes well creamy and it looks so white and clean i just remembered that guy off man vs food drank loads of milk with chillie…..mmmm milk

Posted By alex On 06.16.2012 @ 11:47 am

I had it all planned out: the cathedral, the music, the food, the vows. All that was left was the question. Maybe the hardest question a man ever has to ask, maybe the only one he truly, deep down, won’t ever know is the right one to ask.

Posted By Alex On 06.14.2012 @ 9:17 pm

Okay. This has to be brief. DOnt ask questions. What was that? No, wait, I shouldn’t even be answering that, I told you don’t ask questions! Okay, so remember that thing? Yeah, that one. The one we thought we’d never see again. well it’s nack. and it’s unhapp

Posted By Alex On 06.12.2012 @ 9:33 pm

It was only a moment, a brief moment in what seemed like the longest day of Charlie’s life. Only a fleeting, grasping, barely-there, never-to-come-again moment, but still, it resonated with him like nothing had before, the feel of her fingertips brushing his.

Posted By Alex On 06.12.2012 @ 2:09 pm

I woke with a start. what was that? I listened a little closer.

nothing.

Had I dreamed it? what was that racket?

Posted By Alex On 06.10.2012 @ 9:58 pm

birds live in a nest. little baby birdies grow up there but then later, when they grow up they have to leave and the mommy bird has to let them go. But leaving can be scary. Nests are make of twigs and branches and leaves. Our neighbors cat tries to eat the birds in our backyard.

Posted By Alex On 06.10.2012 @ 7:10 am

when i think of jelly all that comes to mind is the expression ‘are you jelly’ as in ‘are you jealous?’ and when i think of jealousy, I think of what power it has over people and how ridiculous it is. Why can’t people trust each other anymore? Well I don’t think anyone does anything but lie anymore.

Posted By Alex On 06.07.2012 @ 8:40 am

Is it always jelly? wibble wobble wibble wobble its always jelly. Feeding troops the jelly of death, feeding kids the party kind. So on so on so on…everyone born in the 80s knows that jelly was best served straight from the pack! eating the sq cubes without the boiling episode.

Posted By Alex On 06.07.2012 @ 7:44 am

This one time, I put jelly on my sandwich but it was bad so I threw up everywhere. It was literally all over. It not only got all over my plate, but it also covered all of my place mats. All of the place mats. Just… all of them. So I have stopped using jelly on my stuff.

Posted By Alex On 06.06.2012 @ 9:31 pm

jelly is the jam of desire, the passion of a perilous vine, the dream of disasters. Welcome, the bread is ready, the toast has been toasted though, if I were a boasting man, I’d say I’d have to have boasted, that with peanut butter, my unborn dying mother, you would be less, more than most, but blest by an impure death.

Posted By alex On 06.06.2012 @ 2:00 pm

Emptying the laundry basket is one of those tasks that no one really appreciates. You have to, of course. If you didn’t the laundry would stay there forever. In limbo. Laundry limbo. Arguably the worst kind of limbo, after the one with all the bees. But when the basket is, indeed, emptied, there is a sadness of sorts.

Posted By Alex On 06.04.2012 @ 7:22 pm

hassle is a good word for hassling as it sounds very annoying hassel hassel hassel! other things to say about hassel are david hasselhoff and hassel-free life. hassel-free everything!

Posted By Alex On 05.31.2012 @ 11:04 pm

Work is such a goddamn hassle.

This woman – I will affectionately refer to her as Bitchface – has apparently made it her personal mission to make my life difficult.

Nothing that I do is good enough, and I never seem to be doing enough. It may sound self-involved to say that she is gunning for me and me alone, but that’s seriously what she’s doing. Last summer she decided it would be really awesome to try and gyp me out of $2000 that I earned working for her, simply because she wasn’t pleased with my work performance in the aftermath of my employment.

Ugh.

Posted By alex On 05.31.2012 @ 10:53 pm

it’s such a hassle to get up everyday. i can barely take a shower and get dressed. i feel like my existence is a hassle to everyone around me. i feel like my friends are only friends to be nice. i am hassle to my parents. i’m just hassle all around.

Posted By Alex On 05.31.2012 @ 8:17 pm

This is the word my dad uses when he is frustrated. When he complains that something is a “hassle”, that is the cue to leave him alone, or to push him through it because he’s being a baby. He’s my dad he should be able to do anything. Looking at him through my child-eyes, so young and naive, I believe he should be able to move mountains.

Posted By alex On 05.31.2012 @ 6:37 pm

I felt like a reporter sometimes. Every word rehearsed, flashing my smile at just an angle so my teeth look nice. It all rings with an awful tin, a hollow persona without a single real emotion.

Posted By alex On 05.30.2012 @ 11:07 pm

I used to want to be a reporter. I studied Journalism in college. I no longer want to be a reporter because politics are awful. I still love to write. Write write write. Type Type Type. Typity Type.

The end…………………

Posted By Alex On 05.30.2012 @ 10:28 pm

“The architecture is truly stunning.”

I turned to stare at Walter incredulously. “We’re about to sacrificed to some crazy heathen gods, and you find the time to appreciate the architecture?!” I hissed at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing much else we can do.”

Posted By Alex On 05.29.2012 @ 8:28 pm