Entries By Sinead
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 49 Entries
willed
The girl was strong willed, nothing could faze her or change her mind on anything. When she wanted something she went at it with all her might. Her friends thought she was mad when she became so obsessed over a project but she knew in her heart that this was the secret to getting anything done in life.
Posted By Sinéad On 02.16.2013 @ 10:32 am
themselves
Some people like to be by themselves. I am one of those. We enjoy the silence of our own company, watching others. We keep ourselves to ourselves. We do not feel the need to share ourselves with others all the time. Sometimes though, we do. And when we do it’s wonderful.
Posted By sinead On 11.09.2012 @ 2:54 am
icing
She smiled as she sifted the white icing sugar into the big glass bowl. It fell like snow into a mountain. Her mother always let her scrape the bowl when she had finished so she always made a little extra; a few more licks of the spoon. Slowly she poured the warm water to make a gooey, white mixture.
Posted By Sinead On 07.23.2012 @ 9:52 am
reporter
Liars who want to fictionalise all that they hear. Slander, misuse, abuse, composites of bullshit and despair. Despise the reporter. Despise akll he has ever cxlaimed himself to be. Hate. Reporter. HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Don’t listen. Just do. What a reporter wouldn’t. Above all else…
Posted By Sinead On 05.30.2012 @ 12:33 pm
dilemma
I was staring down my hands with my mind screaming as it ripped in two. I waited for some sort of sign, some sort of message that would tell me, explain it to me: explain something that i couldn’t quite grasp, something teetering on the edge of my mind as my heart, my soul, my mind cried out to decide, to find the answer. The answer to the dilemma.
Posted By Sinead On 05.28.2012 @ 12:46 pm
transport
fly away and breathe. forget humanity. fuck pretentious jokes that take the form of life. leave. but don’t run away. just leave. if you’re tired- leave. sleep more. tell your dreams to manifest and create. break the contraption and kill them all, sweetheart.
Posted By Sinead On 08.20.2011 @ 12:45 pm
given
I was given a thought and placed it in a jar for all to see but no one looked inside. I smashed the jar and saw the ground open up and bleed And everyone turned a looked And picked up a piece And placed it in their own jar Look what I thought, they said! Look!
Posted By Sinead On 07.02.2011 @ 12:46 pm
chalkboard
the teacher always scrubbed it. the students scratched it. and it was a place for expression of both rules and art, lessons and beauty. a chalkboard is an endless palette of possibilities.
Posted By sinead On 06.05.2011 @ 5:27 am
montage
a montage is something that is a symbol of something else. It’s fifties or earlier, and it’s pretty useless, mostly decorative, and sometimes is over-rated and overuesed. But, like all useless things, there are some beautiful things abou tmontages. Right? Useless does not mean ugly.
Posted By sinead On 05.31.2011 @ 1:14 pm
thief
foreign
Everything in my life is different now.. The people seem to act strange.. The words are foreign.. They’re still the same simple words, but they have lost their meaning.. Ever since it happened. I just want to go home, to get away from this foreign land, these foreign acts of kindness.
Posted By Sinead On 04.21.2011 @ 12:36 pm
mythology
the dragon was there with the people below. but then came thor and he came down in a reign of thunder with lightening and stars shooting across the sky. people cried. the dragon flew. thor was there victorious. that ws the myth anyway.
Posted By Sinead On 12.27.2010 @ 9:08 am
obvious
Its out there, in your face, cant you see it? Its not hiding in the smallest corner in the room but rather its the elephant sitting on top of your face.
Posted By Sinead On 12.25.2010 @ 11:50 am
diagram
A diagram is a picture to show what something looks like or does. It is used in manuals and textbooks i.e biology textbooks (the human body)
Posted By Sinead On 11.28.2010 @ 6:00 pm
calling
Sometimes I hear them calling in the night. It’s like a forgotten echo, a whisper that has been blown away by the wind…
Posted By Sinead On 09.07.2010 @ 8:58 am
gift
He once told me he was God’s gift to women. I laughed in his face.
Posted By Sinead On 07.22.2010 @ 5:40 am
lens
I fogged up the lens of my battered old camera with my breath, as per usual. I didnt want to take a photo in perfect clarity because i think, if you look to close at the world, you can see all the little cracks breaking it up, all the lies and the terrible things that people do in the night while you’re sleeping, slowly cracking up the ‘beauty’ that is the world. Breaking it up bit by bit… That’s why I fog my camera lens, I don’t want to be reminded.
Posted By Sinead On 07.19.2010 @ 10:20 am
forgotten
I stare down at the faded photograph, at that young girl with the care free smile and the wind whipping her hair around her face, me. I am smiling at the boy sitting on the wall next to me. I look so happy, I look like I wouldn’t give him up for the world. Why can’t I remember him?
Posted By Sinead On 07.12.2010 @ 11:29 am
scoop
I scooped the icecream slowly out of the tub. I watched it plop dismally into the old, cracked china bowl. I thrust a spoon into the gloop and lifted it into my mouth and swallowed. I could hardly taste the pills in it…
Posted By Sinead On 07.11.2010 @ 7:03 am
chaos
The bulidings crumbled all around me as I ran, my feet punding in rhythm with my heart. Cars lay on their sides, some even burning; lamposts had fallen, obstructing the cracked roads strewn with rumble. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of Them, lumbering over to me slowly, one of it’s legs dragging behind it…. the creators of this chaos, the bringers of the apocalypse… zombies.
Posted By Sinead On 07.07.2010 @ 9:50 am
myth
What is myth and what is truth? Is life a myth? Are we actually here or is it a lie that we whisper to ourself in some sort of conciounce? What is truth and what is myth?
Posted By Sinead On 07.06.2010 @ 8:56 am
pawn
What is this sick game you’re playing? This game in which I am merely a pawn, dispensable, unimportant. You the king with all your little pieces cluttered around you, ensuring you came to no harm, ensuring that it’s anyone but you that has to suffer heart break or humilation. Who cares of all the other pieces that get crushed along the way? As long as you are still untouched, this sick game can continue…
Posted By Sinead On 07.04.2010 @ 8:35 am
carve
I chip away at the bark of the tree, carving out the tiny letters at the base of the trunk. Tiny woodchips are scattered around my feet. I turn away when i’m done and look back at the miniscule words… ‘i want to die’.
Posted By sinead On 06.30.2010 @ 8:49 am
mineral
A clear brook, the fresh smell of spring and the tang of natural minerals in the water. Life is beginning to look up for me.
Posted By Sinead On 04.23.2010 @ 11:25 pm
level
i am on a level of happiness that is beyond what i’ve ever felt i am happy with my life, friends and family! enjoy ur levels of happieness too!
Posted By Sinead On 03.31.2009 @ 1:28 pm
proud
proud? what is there to be proud of in this world? You only end up with what you arrived with, and that’s nothing. What’s the point of it all? Life is terribly unfair. We all spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make ourselves happy, and, ultimately, we fail. Where’s the pride in that? Nowhere, that’s where.
Posted By Sinéad On 09.16.2008 @ 5:44 am
brick
Oh, writing about bricks. How silly of us to spend our time writing about bricks. I don’t know really. Bricks tend to envoke a sense of strength in humans, but have you ever considered what a brick really is? it’s a single object that’s basically useless on its own. why, then, do people liken humans to bricks? We’re nothing like them, we’re wonderful, exuberant, phenomenally useful beings on our own.
Posted By Sinéad On 09.10.2008 @ 10:04 am
brick again, look. houses, houses are made of bricks. they’re shelter, and things like that. homeliness? I think not. I feel more at home anywhere but here. Then again, I could never feel at home here, not anymore… I suppose I know why, but I don’t like it any more. Makes me feel very…dependant.
Posted By Sinéad On 09.09.2008 @ 4:13 pm
oh dear lord my brain has gone blank. anyway, brick. rhymes with brink, I suppose. the brink, brink of falling… falling from a brick wall. a tiny circle, oh the perfection. I love when that happens. Though I do hate falling. I fall a lot.
Posted By Sinéad On 09.09.2008 @ 4:10 pm
