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ShipsPassing ships. I think thats the term used most appropriately. To describe our brief encounter. Our quick lesion. Romantic language for confused feelings of body and heart. A passionate beginning of words and lips, passed and flowed through. Soon the sea grew, complex ocean of currents uncharted. For me at least. The north, the city of pink grey stone confusion of morals I found hard to anchor. I thought wed settle happily into the mariner. But no. A storm of interest, but yours whimpered in the wind, dissolved and dissipated. A brief moment passed as I was left stranded, trapped in sea weed entrails and coils complex. Emotions for the ship that passed me in a brief encounter of quick intentions. Gone with the wind, rather than constant like salt and rock, hard and concrete.
A DestinationYou were the upgraded copy, the richer version, the easy distraction. Id been consumed for hours over the alluded obsession, the favored stature that was a stranger to my tastes. Id thought and Id concluded, escapism or a plan, either to satisfy.
A plan set in motion, a destination. A train, another, a wait, and you. I came for the other, but found my eyes wondering. In that silver, those jeans, that voice. An escape and an excuse. Easy, no? The right moment, the right place, the right hour. The alcohol and the dress. Why not? I could have this version, this smile, this stature.
Why not indeed. A bad idea, a mistaken moment, a plan unraveled in pleasure and excitement, hurt pride and bruised ecstasy. Youth and naivety, for me. You werent what I wanted, even though I repeated it many times. I used your carbon copy aesthetic as much as you used my easy, drunken attitude. It was one night dragged over three days. I latched on to the version that let me,
ObsessionObsession. Its an easy thing to fall into, and an even harder hole to escape.
I liked you once. Quite a lot actually. Despite the fact that my best interests told me you were a bad idea. Your texture didnt suit my tastes, your stature was nothing I ever thought Id favor. And yet I fell after you happily, made a fool of myself mostly.
Its gone now. I found closure in a drunken night and a single bed. In spilled words of oppressed months, inappropriate affection and rejected touch. It was awkward, embarrassing, but satisfying. And then there was the exhibition and the appropriate obsession. And yet, I still like to think.
Your name makes me turn my head, your silhouette and sound will always make me listen. Its hard to completely remove myself from the half whole I once so happily sat in, wallowed in, and would have drowned in. A beguiling puddle of self pity and complete and alluded infatuation.
Im still jealous, with no reason to be. I still reminisce on things that n
lessons learned from seven men...- I -
I hate that you issued instructions like Don't put on any weight, you're small so it would really show, at a time when food was already the enemy and starvation felt like feeding the parts of me that were anchorless.
But I love that you showed me that You're so different from anyone I've ever been with actually means We are way too different for this to work and saved me a lot of future heartache.
- II -
I hate that you misunderstood yourself so much that it made you suspicious of everyone around you.
But I love that certain places will always hold magic for me because of the journeys we took together.
- III -
I hate that you walked away from something potentially lovely, if only ever destined to be temporary, because the people who were actually important in your life wouldn't have approved.
But I love that you reminded me that strength of character is a tr
BeautyAs his lips parted from mine, I felt the warmth left by them and tasted his sweet love on the tip of my tongue. Opening my eyes, I looked him and smiled before turning away and blushing, biting my lip. His legs straddled mine as I sat up against the wall and I felt him firm against my crotch, softly and pleasantly touching my clit. This was the happiest I'd ever been and I reached up under his shirt, resting my palm against his chest to feel his rapid heart rate.
"I still got it," I whispered, smiling.
"You never lost it." he muttered before reaching up my top to mirror my action. I felt my face flush as I stroked him lovingly, wondering how I could ever deserve such a wonderful, handsome man. As if he'd read my mind, he leaned forward. Carefully undoing my bra and beginning to massage my breasts, he gently kissed my ear with his lips and said, with a crack of emotion in his voice "you are exquisite...".
I thought about how I felt with him and taking my hand awa
neun.Einmal hatten wir ein paar aus unserer Klasse eingeladen. „Wir“ heisst Till und ich, und „ein paar“ heisst auch Mädchen. Wir wollten Pretty Woman sehen, aber Till war natürlich dagegen. Till wollte Top Gun. Er zog mich beiseite, um mich zu warnen. Till hatte Pretty Woman schon gesehen und wusste darum, dass es eine Kussszene auf einem Klavier gibt, die viel zu gewagt sei für eine solche Gesellschaft. Aber Luzia war auch dabei und so war Till schliesslich in der Minderheit. Luzia hat ja jetzt auch ein Kind, seit langem schon eigentlich. Tja, das waren damals die Modis, die man mal mehr und mal viel mehr erfolglos umwurbte. Beatrice war auch so eine. Da staunte ich natürlich nicht schlecht, als ausgerechnet Till ein paar Wochen später plötzlich mit ihr rumknutschte, zwar nicht auf einem Klavier, aber auf einer Party.
Es war Till, der mich schliesslich ermutigte, den Brief zu schreiben. Ein Liebesbrief sah damals standardmässig et
Talking Without WordsThere is a point at which you know. There is a time at which you realize that things will never work out the way you want them to. Let’s call it the end of the line.
You just got home from a concert. As you’re going down the stairs to collapse in your bed in exhaustion, and you accidentally bump into her and her friend. You say hello, her friend responds. You get into some pointless discussion as she takes the opportunity to sneak by you, without a word. You say goodnight; she doesn’t respond.
You’re walking down Glouster Road. You just emerged from the Piccadilly Line of the Underground and you’re walking home. You see her walking on the other side of the street, coming towards you. As you glance at her, she looks up at you. You flash her a smile and send her a wave. She keeps walking.
It’s December, the last day of the semester. Time to go to Heathrow, time to go home. You want to say goodbye. So you go to her, and you say goodbye. She says what yo
CharacterizationI was told to write about someone I felt close to…. If asked now, she would call us anything but close. Oddly enough, with all that has gone on between us, I feel like I know her much more than I know almost anyone, and it’s sad to think that of all the things that have happened, this is the event I remember most clearly.
It wasn’t a necessarily good day, but it wasn’t awful, either. It was one of those days where I was kind of down, lost in my emotions. This wasn’t unusual, but it didn’t happen without reason. A girl, who was a good friend of mine then, knew this and was determined to find out the root cause. Personally, I feel that she knew, as I had spoken of it several times before, but she wanted to hear me say it. She would follow me around the halls, pestering me and begging me to tell her what was bothering me.
“Come on, Haley! Tell me what’s wrong,” she’d almost dem
MOAR CRAPtime for the next inscription of my life i hope yall liked my last intro sort of thing
so also before the whole winter formal thing i liked this girl named veronica and she is probably the sweetest girl you would ever meet i mean like ever she is also very pretty as in extremely. and so i hadnt talked to her in a while so i texted her to ask how she was doing and her response
hey george i think im dating henry isnt that great!
yeah and guess who henry was he WAS my best friend she started dating my best friend after like a week of them liking eachother. and my friend is (excuse my language) a HUGE F*CKING MANSLUT! and he treated her like total shit and they kept dating and he would talk about how they made out and shit. and she would tell me how she cuddled with him and i was just like kill me now. but after a while she started complaining about him and i told her to dump his ass and she did then i was happy again bla blah blah mor rejection and now i currently like her
i will be updat
My New ThingsSo, my viewers now know that "iwtbag" stands for I want to be a girl. I currently own two things of lip gloss, 2 mascara sticks, and a pair of cute black skintight leggings. What else should I get and should I post pictures here?
confessions full of jack 12Confessions are against my nature. I have always been secretive, and nobody needs to see and smell my internal organs. I am only confessing to rid futile information of their power, I am only confessing to make room for real secrets.
Alice Rose Kirkland BioAlice Rose Kirkland Bio
First Name: Alice
Middle Name: Roselia
Last Name: Kirkland
Hair Color: Blond
Eye Color: Blue
Personification: The city of London
Current Location: North America
Birthday: July 30
Birthplace: London, England
Siblings: Scotland, Ireland Twins, Whales, England
Other Family: New Zealand, Australia, America, Canada, Hong Kong, Sealand
Job(s): City and Bakery organizer
Boss(es): The Queen and 2P! England
Favorite Food(s): Scones, Ice cream, and Fish and Chips
Favorite Color(s): Purple and Green
Pet(s): Londencat and a Porcupine named Cuddles
Alice is a very shy girl, well that is until you get to know her then she is very energetic and Funny. She was raised by her older brother Arthur from the tim
Stream of Consciousness IHot water, yellow walls, yellow tops, giraffes, penguins. Purple shirts and cadged squirrels. Blue eyes, and messy hair. Burst balloons, scissors and inappropriate behavior. Waiting, anticipating. Cheap wine and loosened tongues. Orange, doctors, tenants and hills, smells.
We indulge, publicly, inappropriately, insultingly, without care or consideration. Disgusting affection. Tongue, lips, ears, nose.
We indulge in our laughter and words, alcohol and kisses.
Sober, little sleep. Big head phones and bigger suitcases. Coffee, morning, newspapers. White walls and carved tables. Shy kisses, lips, tongue, nose. Good byes, and promises in given books.
You are the one I dreamed of. But dont I always dream and fall easily? At least this time my obsession was picked more appropriately.
Swaying walls, blue light. Bed and towels, dripping skin. Sweat or water? Beating heart and pumping pulse, legs and arms and loud in my ears. Sleepy eyes and captured thoughts. Too much time to s
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More