...And Yet So FarIt began like a love story.Two beautiful peoplesmiling at each otherin a park with flowers blossomedon a Spring day.But this isn't a love story.Two people, who are beautiful at the same time,smiling because that's what people doin a park where people tend to spend afternoonslike this one, a nice Spring day.
And There We WereBrothers,againstwhat they cannotsee.Nineteen,and green.Boys, not men.Foreign, unknown.Noises.Violence.Scarring,just kids.
Found Perfection, Kept SearchingDustrom University was one of the more selective universities in the country, possibly the world. They had decently high standards for their GPA and SAT/ACT requirements, as well as asking for, but not requiring, a letter of recommendation from a teacher or employer. The university’s website makes the claim that many students hadn’t met the academic requirements, but were accepted by their character; this was likely just to get more students to apply. Officially, the university accepted 25 to 75 of applicants, the number varying and changing each year depending on how many applications they get.This was the only place Cody wanted to go to college. It was local, a little over an hour north from his home in Key Largo, Florida (though Cody’s speeding “problem” has seen that time nearly cut in half). It had a modest academic prowess that he found very appealing; not quite up to par with the Ivy League, but not that far behind either. The campus had an old uni
12 DaysIn 12 days, you're going to kill me.In 12 days, you're going to break my knee.In 12 days, I will hate you.In 12 days, I will not be able to stand and fight.In 12 days, hearts will break.In 12 days, dreams will be shattered.In 13 days, I will not have woken up.In 13 days, I will sleep in the morgue.In 13 days, you will get a call.In 13 days, you will collapse in shock.In 13 days, news will be broken.In 13 days, a team will unite.In 20 days, you will be burdened.In 20 days, I will be cremated.In 20 days, you will face consequences.In 20 days, I will be eulogized.In 20 days, success will never matter again.In 20 days, we will be free.
AMB3RAMB3R is an avatar living in the virtual world Serenity. She is a virtual being. Therefore, she does not actually exist.AMB3R is employed as an escort in Serenity. She sells her virtual body for the virtual money she uses to pay the rent on her virtual apartment, buy her virtual clothes, and do virtual activities. AMB3R is one of few Serenity residents to actually have employment. Most acquire their virtual money through a currency exchange; there are a few out there who are content with Serenity’s free content to not want money. And since residents of Serenity did not need to eat, sleep, bathe, etc. AMB3R has little use for having an apartment. But she did find some pride in having a place to call her home, and that was worth the bi-weekly rent.The world of Serenity was comprised of hundreds of places called sites. The creators of Serenity owned eight, known as “default sites” since newcomer residents first arrive in
Meeting Gary 'Roach' SandersonFor a while, Roach was just a story to me. Ghost raved about him. Seeing him run the training course made me feel so insignificant; all the self-confidence I had was long gone before he finished. The one thing that was truly jaw-dropping was his quickness. If this he was in a Wild West duel, his opponent wouldn’t even see Roach draw his gun he moved that fast.I remember meeting him for the first time before the 141’s mission in Rio de Janeiro. Captain MacTavish was going through some extra debriefing. Ironing out the edges of the plan, little nit-picky details of how he wants things to be done. Once that was finished, Roach walked by me on the way out the room.“An Aussie?” he mumbled, his lips barely moving.“Be nice, Roach,” Captain MacTavish chuckled.I guess Roach’s way of being nice was not saying a word to me ever again.“Don’t mind him, Dragon,” Captain MacTavish said to me after Roach left the room. “Roach doesn
I love you.I am not myself these days;I find myself, more and more, in the fog of window panes and the cold, misty morning air.I am not myself these days;I lose myself, more and more, in the way light catches off certain clouds of sunset: prisms.What is different? I love walks in the park,clichéd as that may be, and I enjoy the taste of the rain.What else is different? I am not willing, try as I might,to accept or acknowledge that the sins of my ancestors reflect in me.Of course, this is all since I met you. I wish, sometimes, to feel less like a piano,and more like a harpsichord thatonly you know how to tune. I dream, sometimes, of what lies beneath,and of why I can’t findthe reason for why I love you.
Mimicrymildewed [ghosts]haunt the c.r.a.c.k.s in the w do not a mistake l their voices l for s
A Vision of Aphrodite on the ShoreA Vision of Aphrodite on the ShoreHere, in this mind of petty indignation.Here in this place of stale breadand salty tears, is an imageof a maiden warm, and intense, blood stainsher lips; an opiate calm enters her air,andWhen Ceres' heat comes, it screamsout from her passing by, the beauty withintō theō.Exile, sounds within the patteringof sandals atop dipping sand.The green dress fell like a burdenshe was happy to give over to Artemis.When she removes the band fromher hair, the wind smells of juniper,the water swirls with brunette.I would go to her in amour, with bloodstained lips, and mingle flesh. Later,the wicker basket would overflow withwine from Florence, a silk blanket brought in kind,touching worry, would caress her form, (that theSun did not dare abuse), bringing gentleness to abare lithe wild flower.Instead, I enter the waves of indignation, a mindbeaten with shards of glass, a throat scarred fromsorrowful sour mash. The night swal
Black voidsA black void escapes my lips.As the infection of pain takes over.I’m screaming to an empty room.In it lays all my fears.My eyes are filled with parasites.Seeing nothing but black.Which leaks it’s way into my heart.Trembling fingers, and sweaty palms.Bugs clinging to my hair.Nesting in my skin.I have been contaminated.By the sins of others.Nobody can harm me now.I have been contaminatedBy the whispers of the heartless.Reaching forth for some light.It only seems to burn my skin.My right eye has been removed.And left with a hole.Head spinning round’ and round.Sitting in this dirty contaminated room.A perfect fit for me.
A ThoughtThe best art is madeBy those who care not for fame,But who love their craft.In a perfect world,The Bard's name is a secret,But his tale is known.
SeashineSacred skinwhere heavens and oceancollide,an imprint on salted lungsan echoof aching, ofa moonlit yearning upon therolling tide.
GravityNot every man can prove their weight, their worth.With dreams of wings I am forced to walk.I wish to become the challenger of my own gravity,To rise so much higher than fate will allow.A wall of fate; nothing satisfies.Just because I defy you, doesn't make me wrong.The size of my deed will reflect my ego,Project myself, I must become exactly what I want.So gravity, I challenge you to keep me down,I defy you to crush my wings!In defiance I scream at my fate;"I'll gain my wings and you'll keep your weight!"
Light upon her skin.I want to beIn love with someoneAnd watch the lightDance on the tips of her skin.Like the sea,I'll be the ebb,And she'll be the flowMoving together in perfect rhythm .I want that feelingOf confusing, alternating, maddeningLove to fill me from withinAnd to know how it feels,To hear the words –
1The moon and the starsAre extremely lovely, butYou are much brighter
BoxCan't smell the roses;they do not grow well indoors.I'm going insane.