simbatoo
This is only still the beginning stage of my life. I have so much ahead of me. But the world is beginning to weigh on me, stealing my hope for what is left to come.
The fingerprints grace the top of the dirty tabletop, left after the flour spilled and I almost fell from the shock of what you told me. Why today? I didn't need this day to get any worse.
I want a ptent for my idea. I think its a good idea, and because it hasn't been patented yet, I'm not going to tell you what it is. You're going to have to guess.
my alarm sparks a whole new realization every day, the worry caused that just cant be taken any more. the alarmist tries to stop. doesn't. but i am not. you are for saying i am.
The downpour washed over her face, coating her in the pleasant sensation of icy pinpricks. They washed away each gash, gouge, and bruise. Nothing was left. She was melting into the feeling of being nothing. Everything was slipping away, the pain of years, the horror of minutes, the terror of seconds. There was peace dripping through her skin to fill the void inside, the empty space that was fought for, that allowed the knives and swords they threw to bounce off of her, in stead of break the flesh. She was absorbing all the feeling she had contained for years. The pain of it all rushed through and she collapsed, bending to its will, until the current peace brought her back to the realization of now, of the power she held, of what was possible.