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The Ghost Of You (Commentary)Hey guys! It's Electricka-Sixx again. So, shortly after my commentary of Raven's (Tara's friend) story "I'm Not Okay", I discovered another story that they wrote together called "The Ghost Of You", and instead of a typical Mary Sue wannabe, they instead fuck up Hermoine Granger into a god awful canon-sue character.
Anyway, enough talking, so here's my commentary on "The Ghost Of You"
Chapter 1. Helena (Why do you keep using this title?)
Disclaimer: Um okay I don't own this lolz. Coauthored with xxxbloodyrists666xxx. (Wonderful...)
a/n: the other story got a bit boring so here goes and if you’re one of the fuckers who flamed Tara’s story u can go 2 hell, cause she helped with this. (They flamed because her story was utter shite) I don’t give a fuck when HP takes place. This takes place NOW, and it’s MY story, so they can have iPods and NORMAL clothes and shit if I want them 2. So if you’re
South Park Episode Idea (Please comment!)INT. STAN'S BEDROOM, DAYTIME
STAN is sitting quietly at his computer, annoyed that he somehow got sucked back into Facebook by his friends....again. RANDY MARSH enters his room.
STAN: *Sighs* Yeah, Dad?
RANDY: Do you want to go to hell?
STAN: *Turns around, raising a eyebrow slightly* Wha-what?
RANDY: I said, do you want to go to hell, Stanley!?
STAN: Dad, what the fuck are you tal-
RANDY: You ignored that picture Stanley!
STAN: *Facepalm* Oh, brother....
RANDY: It said like and share for Jesus and ignore for Satan. You ignored that picture, STAN!! You support Satan now!!!??
STAN: Dad, it's just a pic-
RANDY: JESUS CHRIST DIED FOR US! HE SACRIFICED EVERYTHING! AND YOU CAN EVEN RESPECT THAT!!!??
STAN: Fine! I'll like the stupid picture!
RANDY: That's better. Oh, and if I find out you've been ignoring more pictures like that, you're grounded! *Turns to leave*
STAN: *Digs hands into his face and sighs*....Why me?
Naive, Chapter ThirtyLibby
16th October, 2012
Libby tried to call Sara again late last night, but she didn't answer and got the same when she tried to call again. She left it until the next morning, but once again, the phone kept ringing and ringing, and there was no answer. Libby tried to hold in her tears as she got dressed into her School uniform and walked downstairs for breakfast with her Mum and Abbey.
"You alright, darling?" her Mum asked as she sat down at the table by Abbey. Libby nodded, but felt her lip quiver and tears falling down. She couldn't hold it in any longer. "Oh, Libby...." her Mum sighed, giving her daughter a hug. "I'm so sorry about Sara, please try not to think negatively of it"
"She's with some weird guy!" she bawled. "He could be hurting her!" Abbey then came over to give her a hug too.
"It'll be alright, Libby..." Abbey said softly to try and calm her younger sister. Ever since Sara had gone missing, Abbey had been trying her best to be a nice big sister to Libby, only
I AmI am single,
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
Two Years LaterShe asked him gently, “Do you love me?”
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
lung canceri will die with your name on my lips
because there is nothing else i'll need to say.
you are my coffin, my funeral pyre.
as my bones disintegrate, popping and snapping,
you will greedily swallow my ashes
until nothing is left of me but secondhand smoke.
i've danced with you, love, across hospital tile,
the scent of antiseptic cloying as valentine's chocolate.
you dipped me into unconsciousness,
and i willingly closed my eyes.
the intrusion of your scalpel teeth no longer scares me.
you, my rigor mortis soul mate, always take me under.
your tent of frostbitten shelter pulls me down, an anchor,
while i gag on pills too abstract to save me.
forgive me, lungs, of my cigarette abuse,
but i've found happiness in a reaper's cloak.
i find comfort in these carcinogens.
i've made my nest in a swaying tree,
my body destroyed by the nauseous rocking.
they smile at me with pity in their eyes,
scribbling nonsense on those jaw-like clipboards.
their crisp, stark white world still has faith in me,
you've been dead for a year, my deari met you on december 21st,
the longest night of the year.
you had solstice eyes: cold, dark, alluring.
i knew you were not meant to last,
powerful as a gale but fragile as
the tulip stems you snapped,
a sickening cycle of you,
an overwhelming tidal wave.
they say two wrongs will never make a right,
but i made so many bad choices that
i wound up back where I began.
it was too easy to love you,
but getting you to love me back was impossible.
i clawed at your chest until I struck blood,
until my nails split into shards.
you were born a phantom,
and i, your corpse.
holding onto you felt like drowning in quicksand;
i fought but always sank into your arms.
i breathed in dirt, breathed in dust, and
found my organs choked with you,
smothered by your existence.
you sucked out my breath
every time i kissed you.
i died every day with your hand
knotted in my hair.
You left on june 21st,
the longest day of the year.
i bit down sorrow and deconstructed
the labyrinth within me,
the one you hadn't th
I give upSometimes
I try so hard to change for people
Do what they want,
Listen to their critiques,
Try to be a good friend..
But you know?
Everyone makes mistakes,
is not perfect,
is tired and stressed and slips,
It is never good enough,
no matter what I do,
nobody ever sees what I changed,
everybody always only sees my faults.
I get criticised for what I did wrong,
but never acknowledged for what I changed,
I give up.
I don't have the energy anymore,
to always justify myself,
to always go up and be the one,
that is bad,
to always be the one,
Sometimes I think I'm better off without anyone...
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
A stranger walked up to me today...A man walked up to me and asked me for a cigarette… I told him I didn't smoke anymore, and he asked me why? ––I answered "because the person I used to smoke with, isn't around anymore", and he replied…"that's why I smoke."
A woman walked up to me and asked me for drugs, I replied "I have several in store…his eyes, his smile, his hands"…she whispered, "that's not a drug"…and I laughed as I said.. "if only you knew."
A child walked up to me today and asked me to play a game, I told them I was too tired to play games, i'd been playing for years, they replied…"then you must be a pro!", to which I said "yes…a pro at losing."
An old woman stared at me today, and I asked her…"is something wrong?" she answered "I was about to ask you the same question."
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
Blowing a featherThe way she blows this feather
All of them screw their knees,
Falling for her.
Blessed by a blue-eyed breeze
All of them crave an eternal embrace.
Gardens of golden flowers
Reflected stars on the water's surface
So many gifts she justly deserves
The rose-coloured feather,
Gift from heavens,
Brings daylight to a sinner
She's an angel without wings
My name is Dan-My BoyfriendI have long brown hair and brown eyes
I love watching movies
I drink Beer
My name is not Mosher.
I like Pirates
I have a girlfriend who I love a lot
I love Photography
My name is not Mosher.
Yes, I like Death Metal
And I love downloading their albums
I've been in a mosh pit before
But my name is still not Mosher.
I have long brown hair and brown eyes
I love watching movies
I drink Beer
My name is Dan.
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
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