hannah11danielle
Repeat. As in, redundancy. I hate redundancy. If I'm not mistaken, redundancy is the reason that my mother and I have such an awful relationship. Every single thing she says is taken from a phone conversation we've already had or something of the sort, something she's ALREADY said. So I know. When I say I know, like most teenagers do, I really mean "We've already talked about this." Can we have some variety, for a change? Maybe? Yes?No? It get's really annoying to talk about the same things. It just does.
I remember the inspiration for my first occasional paper. It was the song "Sometimes Closure Doesn't"-- nevermind. That wasn't even the song name. Anyway, I was driving past the park. Or so it seemed in my paper. I outlined my entire highschool career in that occasional paper for English. I used a lot of metaphors that my class didn't like. They never really wanted me to read my papers after that. But, at least I fell further in love with my writing.
We've all got skeletons in our closet. I've got an extremely nasty one. But you will never know what it is. Because, see, I love you. Loved, excuse me. I loved you. And I respected you. But I was having an off day and I felt useless and I felt like dirt and I feel like a piece of scum right now thinking about it. Well, at least I didn't have sex with him. I respected you that much.
When I think of violet, I remember this book I used to read as a child. It was a series of books about these kids, all brothers and sisters I think, that solved mysteries for people. My favorite character was violet, only because I love the color purple. She was the youngest, and I was young, so there was another connection. It was a very good book series and I read damn near every single one of the books. Sadly, I grew up, and I have no idea what book series it is. Sad day.
Forgetting the past is more complicated than anything you will ever have to do. Nothing is easy already. Just imagine...imagine how easy it would be to forget. So carefree. So amazing. But now, just imagine how different you would be if you could forget. Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?
A painting, gorgeous, and breathtaking. It mesmerized them both. The sirens blared outside and the demons roamed the streets, taking the lives of anything in their paths. But in that museum, that one moment, those two people became one. John and Alyssa stared at a painting. That beautifully painted and mesmerizing piece of artwork brought them together. They didn't hear the sirens, they didn't even feel the demon when it tore through them and they were left, lifeless, on the ground in a pool of blood, hand in hand.
Plaid like the kilt that you wore to make me laugh. Do you remember that night? You took me dancing under the stars, by candlelight, at the park. It was beautiful, we were beautiful. You asked me what I felt. I said "Do you really want to know? Really?" I kissed you. It felt like home. You were home. I was exhausted from love, and you were home. Now, ten months later. I sit here. Without you. And I've never been happier.
I remember prom, how badly we wanted a limo. But how we never got it. Kind of made me angry, but kind of not. A limo would have been nice, My entire highschool time went to waste. A total waste. Because I never did anything full out i highschool. Not even that.
I think of a montage of photos, or a montage of people. Maybe I"m thinking of collage because it rhymes? Now I just asked my friends what montage means, and I was write. Like a collage. So a montage of movie scenes? By ex boyfriend is doing a short film series and my favorite scene is a montage of different kill scenes. In alleys, with shovels, with crowbars, and a lot of death.
I remember when I wrote about this ten minutes ago. I had to log in so that I could save it. I remember saying something about Christain and Daniel and how I wish I could stay with them in those times and how everything was simpler but it seemed so difficult. I remember talking about my grandfather, I remember not having enough time to finish this--like right now.