Life is like a sharp stick. You hold it and you're chilling, but if you're at the end of it, well you get stabbed. Hopefully -if you're reading this- then the stick is in your hand. Unfortunately, if you're like me, then you got the end. And if you got the end: Good luck. As someone whose gotten poked by the sharp end one to many times...

Your in for one heck of a ride =....

Simplicity was a valued trait in Emma's life. She had always loved how it beckoned her untamed soul. How it endowed her with the propinquity of both security and solace. Emma has had a good life. Her cheeks were always well-proportioned, full but not plump, and her skin was tainted just the right color. She always had food on the little living room table. There was modicum to complain about, so co...

And in that moment, Oliver understood the terrifying truth: the greatest illusion was not the power of the mind, but the freedom to choose.

This is why he had chose to run. Away from the house with all it's cages and hard metal floors. Away from the terribly nasty food. And especially away from them.

He has bit the hand that feeds him. Now all he has left to do is starve....

But in all chaos, in all pandemonium, there is a certain calculation. A balance that never once tips the scale any which way. It steadies often but never falters. The great weight of the world. There are some exceptions of course, but they too fail at disrupting equilibrium. War is a simple term for a complex topic. It has been practiced countlessly throughout the years. The World Wars, Civil Wars...

First you start with

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

but that doesn't last for long

for you are your own smith

creator of worlds from your own stalling

nothing coherent

just wings that aren't

visible or they may

just like a sun ray

can be any color you wish

oh the beauty of sleeping

is not anything but bliss

but there is a section

so dark and

b

...

It all started with the old cars hidden in the woods...

Oh the children. The kids.

They had been celebrating their win. First place in the local junior soccer league. In fact, the sandy-haired, chill nine-year-old had one MVP. He made a number a assists, yet never scored a goal himself. The highlight of his day was watching his parents light up as he got his metal. He never took it off. Not for th...

She was falling, off a cliff or a mountain, it didn't matter though, she was still falling. Dead on impact. That's what she'll be. No one can survive that fall. My wings were shredded. Did I even have wings anymore? Did I ever have them? No it was she who had them. Beautiful wings made of all the light unseen. Black spots would litter them when she would get upset. Maybe that was just me though. N...

They spit in his face, then wonder why he is so angry. Over and over and over. The worst part is: they don't even know they're doing it. Everything they say is just so condescending. "It's okay, just try harder." and "You'll get it next time." It haunts his dreams and bases his nightmares. Just STOP. He wants to get away. Away from the shallow people surrounding his life. How hard is it to just be...

Those hazel eyes are soft; eyes that don't belong to a killer. That was what she had said, so long ago. Prided herself on it really. Never shall she once take a life, and technically she never has, but her fiends have. The blonde with the blue eyes and the brunette with the green, they've taken quite a few. One after another they've broken down lives. The black haired with dark, almost black, had ...

She has taken photos before. The reflective surface would always show her. She was sure photos were just a maddening way to lose your mind. The quickest way as well, but she would take them nevertheless. The photo crinkled beneath her fingers. Her knuckles were white by how hard she gripped. There were little water marks bending the paper all over, and more kept coming. This photo was different. P...