Entries By Janette
Displaying 1 To 14 Of 14 Entries
cheap
I always try to get the cheapest of everything – does that mean that I am a scrooge. I guess it is just the way that I was brought up. Mum was on a widows pension from the time I was seven so money was tight.
Posted By Janette On 02.28.2011 @ 11:00 pm
trend
Trends are so irritating. I was looking back yesterday at what “used to be cool” and it’s something I wouldn’t for the world where today. Okay, so I’m a bit under their control myself. Like I said, irritating.
Posted By Janette On 07.01.2010 @ 8:20 am
carve
Carve rimes with scarves. Okay, so that’s in plural. Scarf. Scarf down food. It’s strange how sometimes everyday words just look different every now and then.
Posted By Janette On 06.30.2010 @ 4:51 am
spike
Spike sounds like a dog’s name. Or a fish. It sounds so innocent, but yet, isn’t a spikme something harmful? I’m just trying to remember here, the words barely in my grasp. Spiike is a dinosaur, isn’t he?
Posted By Janette On 06.28.2010 @ 12:07 pm
velvet
His wings feel like velvet. Purple velvet. They’re soft and… fragile. She feels like they’ll break if she holds on too hard. His wings spread out like a starry night sky blanket covering her.nete
Posted By Janette On 06.26.2010 @ 5:42 am
beach
The beach brings weird memories to mind. Weird, because its not normal, er, common, to dislike it. Weird because I’d always end up with too much salt in my mouth Weird because the beach is sweaty, sandy, hot… and I hate it.
Posted By Janette On 06.24.2010 @ 1:55 am
tide
The tide comes in and I hear my mom yelling at me from the shore. She always gets so nervous, she’s always on edge. The water laps at my feet dark, menacing, its white foam slithering in between my toes and caressing them. I don’t like the sea much but it’s always a thrill freaking my mom out.
Posted By Janette On 06.23.2010 @ 10:15 am
revolt
Era un niño revoltoso. Nadie pensaría que sería si, teniendo los padres que tenía.
El niño creció y ya no sólo era revoltoso sino un PROBLEMA.
Decidid: vive o muere.
Posted By Janette On 06.19.2010 @ 4:49 pm
fallout
Fallout of love again. It’s a song by John Frusciante. I hear it everytime I feel blue. Blue, green whatever. Associating colours with emotions is something silly. I hear it and it’s calming. Kinda like a drug.
Posted By Janette On 06.15.2010 @ 1:10 pm
driven
… by hate, no dejaba de hundir una y otra vez la lanza en el cuerpo ya inerte de Dylan. Era como si no pudiera detener esa furia asesina, ignorando los gritos de las mujeres a su alrededor. Las mujeres siempre gritan.
Posted By Janette On 06.15.2010 @ 2:51 am
wash
Wash out, wash out. In rhythm, in sequence, up and down her hands moved. Restregando como con furia, dejaba que el color se desvaneciese dejando que todo fluyera a negro. Grises aguas se apegaban a sus manos cansadas.
Posted By Janette On 06.14.2010 @ 9:24 am
Washout. Like faded jeans, things in front of her started to fade, to white, to the horizon, into the distance. Repeated rubbing, stroking, made the colour fade away.
Posted By Janette On 06.14.2010 @ 6:06 am
bow
Long and thin it stood out in front of him without letting him turn back and he saw the way to get back, get back at everthing, everyone; the bow meant what could be, what could have been. The bow standing out against the black sky, irradiating an odd green light… it reminded him of the inner Forest.
Posted By Janette On 05.27.2010 @ 1:33 pm
