amyare

amyare

This user account status is Approved

she liked to think that she was a sponge, absorbing everything she found important; to be who she wanted to be, slowly absorbing bits from people who inspired her.

that was the first thing to pop into her head. destruct. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars, just head straight to the mirror and look at what a sad excuse for a human you are. She didn't want to: it's just what happened every.single.day. The self destruction she lived for.

force

by some force, he could not stop staring at her. It wasn't like she was off the charts beautiful, not what he thought was beautiful. She was rather plain looking and this gravitational problem was making him look a fool.

The idea of umbrellas always excited her, like seeing a brand new, shiny pair of wellies, they gave her a little excited jolt. she wae do intrigued by the fact that there was something portable and compact that could protect her from the rain. Forgetting the whole romantic aspect of them.

silk

Whenever looking in a mirror, she likened her long blond hair to silk. She was vain, and every ounce of her personality was inthosed into those long, silky locks. To say she was liked was true, but to say she was true to anyone wasn't. It was her world, invested in herself.

That sinking feeling was back. She didnt know how or why, but it was there. In the pit of her stomach and slowly going down. It was as if she swallowed an anchor, heavy and huge. She usually blamed these bouts on despair, but with a new oue,she on life, she knew it was from something else.

The reel of thoughts that ran as a constant were poison. The sight of him, a smile on some random person's face, a picture of a friendship so pure and simple that the end was bound to come soon. These were the things that played over and over in her head.

Transport me to a different dimention, she muttered as she took a drag off of her cigarette. She was restless of this town, this time, this variety. She needed something different.

will I be missed? he wondered as another train whized by, blowing his aair in his face. People missed trains, flights, buses everyday but do they all miss someone everyday? He would miss the sun, but maybe where he was going he didn't need the sun at all. Maybe where he was going, all there was going to be was sun.

deer

deer deer deer, she never liked the compliment, that one thing that everyone said to her, the one that got her the nickname 'fawn.' Everytime she looked in the mirror, she was welcomed with that damned similie. yeng lhe had long legs, yes, she had big brown eyes but did they really have to say it to her face?

writing since 2011 · 11 entries · 11 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Amy showed up.

9longest streak

11days written

4.5entries / week

on this day 15 years ago

Amy wrote about umbrella
“The idea of umbrellas always excited her, like seeing a brand new, shiny pair of wellies, they gave her a little excited jolt. she wae do intrigued by the fact that there was something portable and c…”

the words Amy reaches for

headdeerlikedmirrorfacesunthoughtssometimesmissedeverydaymissdifferentslowlylookingtrueexcited