aviatrice
"Specificity is key," said the teacher, staring down her students with a glare as sharp as daggers. They quivered in their seats, the dark shadow of this looming assignment rising over their heads. "Details... Facts... I want it all."
Cheap- cheap whore! Why do people call each other that? Is it another word for prostitute? Because, I've heard they're rather expensive in fact. Prostitution is well tolerated here in the Netherlands. It's "condoned," as they say, so the girls get health benefits. It's a really efficient way of doing things. Europe totally has it going on.
I bought a keychain at Disneyland one year. It's Minnie Mouse, and she's swinging from it with one tiny white fist, clutching it for dear life. But the look on Minnie's face is that of pure bliss and happiness. I still have the keychain, and she's since lost her nose and one foot. But she's still smiling, as happy as ever, dangling by a finger as she's tossed and turned about the world.
Strong. I am strong, no matter what they say. No matter what I say. I have the strength to keep going on, no matter how bleak the days are and no matter how cruel the words are- I. Am. Strong. Whoever said I was weak in the first place? Maybe myself- probably myself. But I am not. I am strong. I don't really have anything else to say on the subject...
tables and chairs. I sit at a table in a chair and read the daily paper every day. I never noticed the way the table's finish reflects the orange glare of the light from the ceiling before. It's kind of annoying. Like a glare on the television as the sun is setting. Now there's a glare on my newspaper. And it's distracting me. Tables are stupid. No, theyre not. Glares are.
writing since 2011 · 5 entries · 5 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Samantha showed up.
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glarestrongmattertableskeychaincheapchairssittablechairreaddailypapernoticedtable'sfinish