xxk8lynmariexx
In this strange place, my eyes are witnessing clones and replicas. These robot girls assimilated into a disgusting vermin of conformity that destroys any hint of originality. How can one find identity when every corner is filled with a mirror, a reflection, of the pitiful excuse of an image that is beyond superficial?
Stress recoils in my tense mind, craving for relaxation, and a good careless time. Pour it straight, give me five shots, and we'll dance the night away not caring what daylight brings. Admiring the warm sensation running down my throat on a cold winters night.
Man, I just love me some whiskey [best word of the day]!
Jack Daniels! :) <3
Kerosene poured through all the cracks of my front door. I'm indulged by the silent dreaming screams that cannot be heard. Is my lucid dream real? What I feel as heat could be the sun, fire, or hell itself. Someone wake me up, before it's too late. This body lie limp, incapacitate.
Severe temptations crawl over my itching skin. I need what my body lusts for, denial is just of the mind. I crave for that taste, the smell, the aroma filling inside me, the smoke building in my lungs. Please don't call this an addiction, I am far too strong for a title such as that.
[i'm really not addicted to anything, i swear :P]
The mans study was a peaceful serene place. Bookshelves appeared in every corner, with paintings hung from above. These are the artifacts to Lew Wallace's life, thoughts, imagination, and theory. The collections were various in subject; religion, war plans, science, theory, and medicine. Now these shelves linger with an empty void. To peer into a mans mind, one must visit his study.
Digging through tough soil, tedious, layer by layer. The hot humid sun reflects as my pores absorb every bit. Finding what the past has left us, some deteriorated, but still in tact. My thirst for knowledge of our ancestors and predecessors drives my every ambition to become an Archaeologist. I crave to become aware of our past, present, and future.
Digging through soil, tedious, layer by layer, uncovering what has been left in the past. The hot humid sun reflects and my pores to absorb every bit. My thirst for past knowledge of our ancestors and predecessors drives my ambition to become and Archaeologist. I want to be connected with past present and future.
Connected by interest
connected by words
and by wisdom
I felt the strong sensation
as your arms caressed me
Never wanting to leave your side
I felt that strong connection as soon as I looked into your eyes
Strength is what picks me up to conquer the day. It builds me up to face the toughest of times, and to face my fears. Without strength, I would have been left behind with no hope or desire.
Success is a journey, that is a never ending road with many paths and unexpected turns. What we choose to do with it in the end is what matters. Success can only be defined by you. Not letting others determine what your success is, is the beginning towards your own personal success.
writing since 2011 · 11 entries · 9 days shown up
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successpastlayerconnectedstrongsunminddesirepersonalstrengthfacesensationeyesdiggingsoiltedious