Entries from March 2003 ↓

Slip away so descretely
Thinking I won’t know
Can’t you understand that the only thing I know is you?
In this world of magic tricks and trap doors
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Just a glimpse of you
And time lost meaning
But then you go away
And I fall to the ground, I drown

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Last year was the year of many ideas. Some real good and some really, really bad. I thought I had learned my lesson but as always I seem to forget my common sense. My parents had thought that me going to military school would give me decipline and the standing straight posture. Little did they know that I had tried to escape the clutches of Sergeant Wike and his idiotic schooling five days in a row.
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i feel like if every second im with you
is shorter than it really is,its happiness
no pain in it.This whole happiness you
brought to my life its just astonishing.
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“PROMINENT RIDGEMONT HIGH STUDENT FOUND DEAD

Janie Nicole McRoberts, age 16, was found dead late last night in her bedroom. Police have ruled this case as a suicide. A memorial will be held this Friday at 12pm at the Ridgemont High School auditorium in honor of the young girl. Continue reading →

Morgan sat herself down in the armchair directly opposite to the couch, where Erine had just sat down.
‘So what’s the whole story?’ Morgan asked.
‘ Well, ok, hmmm, I started having these really weird dreams, you know, just thought it was my overactive imagination, when they didn’t go away I put it down to stress, I’ve been pretty worked up about graduating this year’
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I feel it cross my mind
in a whisper around my head.
A hole within that can’t be filled
has decayed and fell away.
This ticking of the death clock
in my head has grown much louder.
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You took your knife,
ran it gently across my neck.
Letting me know that you were gonna take my life.
Im pouring down tears,
trying my best to hold them back because i know it makes you mad.
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9
hididng from faces once known lost is all lost am i
floating in this void i wait praying for the day
when everything beccomes real again
no masks to hide behind to lie before
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The war with Iraq is touching to many of my friends hearts and it brakes myne to see their hearts break for their friends and family. I don’t want this o go any longer but i want everyone to know that i support what our country is fighting for. Other countries think we just want revenge, i will admitt we do but we want to help the peopel who are less fortunate then we are. Continue reading →

And there’s blood everywhere… worse than the smell, sticky looking, shiny, wet, scarlet… blood soaks the walls like paint, dripping… only it dries faster than paint. This is fresh… too fresh… too late; they were too late, 10 minutes… 20 at most… two open doors, which one to choose? Both gaping maws… both roaringly dark… empty? So much quick dry scarlet paint, like nail polish… but no body in this room… no red trails on the floor… which doorway? Too hard… too difficult a decision…
Left.
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The blind lead the blind
And fools follow
Closed minds and closed hearts
No care, no empathy
Non-existent tears
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So, now here comes the final version of our “Fragile Home” poem-project. Hope you like it.
I like it and I guess the other both like it aswell, as they kind of did the most

I want to build a fragile home
out of my shattered dreams:

The haunting entrance…

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i slip through the shadows of a dark alley, my skin is flush from the latest hunt. it feels like i am more aware than i ever have been - the child was young and strong, with a soul of purity hard to find in the rome of today, those over six or so are usually aready tainted by a life of prostituiton and abuse.

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Ha! Death does it not sound peaceful?
Untouched, by the modern problems,
Free of pain suffering and sorrow.
Don’t you want to cut those ties?
That holds you strong to the mortal realm,
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sharpened screams doth peirce my mind,
and leave me for the wolves to find,
out in the snow packed forest ground,
bleed endlessly, without a sound.
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The dark night explode. Only two orange stripes stayed in the sky and we guess a kind of power deep inside the car leather. That’s where we keep the bodies and the money. Then we understand: it’s a woman lying in it, it’s an angel standing on the edge and we’re blind. Almost naked (she’ll find a blue key), and the memories disappear. She will meet them soon. She will die too. She will have a dream that doesn’t belong to her and she will make them lie. Continue reading →

i have to admit it. nothing i wrote was real. i just listened, then my fingers typed mechanically in a rush what i remembered. i don’t really write. i just translate sounds and colours. it’s kinda like music.

i have to admit it. nothing i wrote was real. i just copied. every word has a sens, used, breathless. every sentence is a mix, and time is just a place slipping between my hands to an evident restart.

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Slowly
The colour is changing
The poison self-destruct
i stay away from politics
freedom isn’t in the city
it can’t continue that way
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“Nobody knew Janie. She kept one face to the world and the other one to her journal. The one I’m holding in my hands now. Nobody knew her like this journal. All her secrets. All the truth’s she covered up with lies. Janie and I didn’t talk like we used to do when we were kids. Things changed. There was nothing either of us could do about it. She had her preps and I had my Goths. That was just the way it was. We never stopped being friends though. We were always in each other’s hearts.”

– Samantha Elizabeth Conway, Janie’s childhood friend.

“Janie had a wonderful home life. We loved her very much. Of course we had a spat here or there, but nothing major. Her father dealt the punishments in the family. Usually it was groundations, but s swat here or there if the situation called for it, but Janie was such a good kid that she rarely got into trouble. It was such a shock to us when we found her. Why would she do something like this? Punish her family like that? Disgrace our name like that?”

– Belle Abigale McRoberts, Janie’s mother

POSERS=the individuals who try to be some thing their not.
PREPPIES=the stuck up individuals ,who think no matter who you are, their better than you.
JOCKS=the individuals who live their life for playing and watching sport,while trying to be the best athlete.
LOSERS=the individuals who almost every one neglects,that stay in their groups that consists of 1-5 people,who crave attention.
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bleed for me…
cry for me…
die for me,PLEASE!
this is my cancer…
IM DIEING!…
just leave…
i command
you obey…
damn you fucking WOSHIP me

The trees were thick with summer haze, and the sunlight lay sleepily in the clear azure sky. The forest was suffocating, the enveloping shade smothering all that entered. Staying out in the sun would surely burn you, but entanglement in the strangling forest was unbearable. The outskirts of the forest were usually overpopulated at this time of year, with perfect little families of four, sitting out on the picnic tables with chequered tablecloths, sickly sweet memories being imprinted on the innocent little children’s minds. Continue reading →

Because i was feeling down i
bought an ugly dress to
go on a date with a guy that
i dislike and who disliked my ugly dress
i drank some shitty alcool and
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it seems i am unable to give a single clear information
impossible to look in these conditions
impossible to hear
and at night i’m telling them stories
they come out of nothing or maybe of
two words put together by coincidence
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Then i get out of the laundry service with my little bag
i’m 19, i don’t have to worry…
“do you want those candies?”
because this winter starts to smell like spring
i want to go home and stay in my bed
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Life for me

Life, it has its ups and downs right?
Maybe for most people but not for me
Everyone always says the common phase “look on the bright side”
Me, I can’t see one, though I have tried, many a time.
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Emily ran up to her room, slammed her door, turned on the radio, turned up the volume, and fell to the floor crying. After a few minutes, she got up, went over to her drawer, took out her dagger, and sat on her bed. She held the dagger in her hands, twirling it on her palm and gently sliding it along her pale skin. She then began to slowly cut her wrist, enjoying the pain that it brought. Continue reading →

If I were to follow the linear pathways
I’d be far along my own shallow death
Yet I’ve been mistaken for something that sways
Who knows where truth in I lies, what breath
Creates redemption and within which world
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