I hurt easy, I just don't show it.
You can hurt someone & not even know it.
The next sixty seconds could feel like an eternity.
I'm in love with a girl who doesn't appeal to me.
******
I'm taking a break. Seeya. 10/8/09 -- 11/20/09.
******
& once & for all, yours trulies, for your enjoyment: "Preston!.. & Jake!"
http://www.snapvine.com/bp/b7qy4shMEd6k4AAwSFxx0g
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN..I present to you...THE worst singing in all've Storywrite & Internet history! http://www.snapvine.com/bp/KOqsWNS_Ed6sNwAwSFxx0g
"Yeah, it's over now, but I can breathe somehow
When it's all worn out, I'd rather go without
You know it's been on my mind
Could you stand right there
Look me straight in the eye and say
That it's over now
We pay our debt sometime
Well it's over now, yet I can see somehow
When it's all gone wrong, it's hard to be so strong
You know it's been on my mind
Could you stand right there
Look me straight in the eye and say
That it's over now
We pay our debt sometime
Yeah, we pay our debt sometime
We pay our debt sometime
Yeah, we pay our debt sometime
Guess it's over now, I seem alive somehow
When it's out of sight, just wait and do your time
You know it's been on my mind
Could I stand right here
Look myself in the eye and say
That it's over now
We pay our debt sometime
Yeah, we pay our debt sometime
We pay our debt sometime
Yeah, we pay our debt sometime
I know I can, and I'm starting right now."
****************
she says:
Im... facebook stalking... myelf.
she says:
myself*
you say:
& who could blame you?
she says:
Yes, that's it, encourage my elf obsession.
she says:
Er
she says:
Self
she says:
SELF
she says:
Ah fuck it.
************
"And at night the river flows
it bears pale stars on the holy water
some sink like veils, some show like fish,
the great moon that once was rose
now high like a blazing milk flails"
-- Jack Kerouac
"Kerouac's exploration of limits goes beyond social behavior, for he also explores the limits of language. One has difficult speaking of "sentences" in this book [The Subterraneans], for his structures range far beyond the traditional sentence. Ideas flow one into the next without conventional punctuation. In fact, the ideas are usually connected by a common thread, yet Kerouac changes directions frequently and adds insights on top of insights until the initial point of the sentence may be lost. Leo [Kerouac's protagonist] cries out one point, "I'M the bop writer!", insisting that the bop scene is his material but also that he writes the way a bop musician plays. His ideas are just the starting point for extemporization and openness to new ideas that come along during his "solo."
In 1951, Kerouac had a daydream in which he became a master tenor sax player, capable of playing different melodies simultaneously and in different keys. This imagined musicianship parallels Kerouac's notion of the complex overlay of ideas he hoped to produce in writing. Excerpts hardly show the complexity of his ideas, but a sample may suffice to help readers glimpse his message. In the following passage, Leo describes Easter morning as Mardou [One of the main character's in the book with whom Leo shares a romantic affair with] wanders in the streets after her night of "flipping":
'..the flowers on the corner in baskets and the old Italian in his apron with the newspapers kneeling to water, and the Chinese father in tight ecstatic suit wheeling the basket-carriaged baby down Powell with his pink-spot-cheeked wife of glitter brown eyes in her new bonnet rippling to flap in sun, there stands Mardou smiling intensely and strangely and the old eccentric lady not any more consciousc of her Negroness than the kind cripple of the store and because of her out and open face now, the clear indiciation of a troubled pure innocent spirit just risen from a pit in pockmarked earth and by own broken hands self-pulled to safety and salvation, the two women Mardou and the old lady in the incredibly sad empty streets of Sunday after the excitements of Saturday night.'"
- Last seen 9 hours ago. Member since October 8.
- My mood is
, and quote is "*beer*". - I am a 20 year old guy (Canada)
- When I'm not writing, I'm *beer*.
- Contact me on
- AOL Messenger: specialittlebaby
- MSN Messenger: colon.dee@hotmail.com





- I am in the groups Storywrite Future Authors, Write For My Life, Writers with a Descriptive Mind
- I have 207 comments, 28 poems, 95 stories, 24 journals
Stories I'm focused on
-
As the memories of the hallways before my throat are sliced,1
-
For the winds revealing, for the sky-high ships admitting their truth to our sermonable lips, trailing for each other's skins-- shared thru
-
I usually die upon closed eyes/ infant regularity to me --
instant celebrity within the circles200 words, October 27 -
If I should follow the silhouette acoustic cello's harmony;
dragging slow my fingertip's aeroplanes visible thru the rain clouds parting a400 words, 1 comment, October 22. In First person, Hope, Life, Other, Personal, Romance, Short story, Society -
Fired & hired, silhouette inspired;
of a no liar decree without warning--300 words, 3 comments, October 18 -
Goodbye, Sweet Dreams;
luckish, feverish, blessed & so blissful.300 words, 5 comments, October 12 -
The avenues left, settled before the miswired hangings of apartment’s holders institutionalized into university, & it means so much to me, the only question splattered far against the hallways of dusted Pearls forsaken1000 words, 2 comments, October 9
-
900 words, October 9. In Young adult
My Stories
-
-
Your Life Depends on Opening This Message..<100 words, 7 comments, November 19. In Humor
-
-
My Poetry
1 - 3 of 28
Show all at allpoetry
-
May I kiss you in the darkest night?
Throw my arms around you in the brightest light?<100 words, 1 comment, November 5
My journal entries
-
When I signed up in October, I didn't think I'd be where I'm at. I thought this site would be a run-off, a little hello, oh, what's up, nothing, well, bye! But that isn't the case. I've spent most of my time of most of my days on & off this site, posting my writing & KIND OF getting feedback (one of the main reasonsNovember 20, 400 words. → 3 comments, Add one?
-
How often do you have to sit outside before you've figured out the sides of all possible unpainted portraits yet veiled beneath your traveling fingers of sighs & sorrowful questions? Without a why to impose, a desolate observation needled closed, it's only another Life to get to know, throw away & dispose. BeforNovember 17, In Contemplative, Friends, Hope, Life, Nonfiction, Society, Truth, You. 800 words. → 2 comments, Add one?
-
Guest Book
1 - 4 of 37
Show all
-
Azaradelle : Omgeh! on November 20THAT'S MY FINGER!!!
I always new I'd be famous one day.
BlueBERRIES!!
xo
-
Azaradelle : Plebs! on November 18Your spit is not worthy of my shoes.
Now drop down and gimme 20... oranges, that is. Beautiful, succulent oranges with vitamin B. Or was it C?
Eeeee.!!!Kanerahton:kie <3
REALLY!
I don't neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEeeEEEeEeeeeed them ANYWAY!
Viva LA REVOLUTION!
Ho hum, ho hum, it's home from work we come.
xo
-
Azaradelle : ... on November 18Your face offends me in its beauty.
Remove it!
REMOOOOVEEE IT!
Queen Lori has Le spoken.
<3 -
Sexi Chickie on November 15Woah! I can barely read all this! Still nice profile page. Uh huh
