appleheather.

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank you for all the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your
feet tonight
Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive

So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
Yeah should be alright

"I am sister to the rain;
Fey and sudden and unholy,
Petulant at the windowpane,
Quickly lost, remembered slowly."

- Dorothy Parker

I'm never on this one anymore.
also, LOLITA IS REQUIRED READING FOR MY AMERICAN LIT CLASSdlksdklafhsdfjlsdkfjsd

HAPPY CHRISTMAS

SO CUTE

http://www.firstshowing.net/2008/12/17/keanu-reeves-confirms-live-action-cowboy-bebop-involvement/

>:/

MOAR SPARRINGTON

also, this:

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/477887403.html

I FIXED MY THESIS
I FIXED MY THESIS



I DON'T NEED PSYCHOTROPIC DRUGS TO WRITE THIS PAPER NOW, YOU NITWITTISH BESPECTACLED NERDY TWERP IN MY FAUST SECTION. TAKE THAT. UNF. IN THE ASS. NO LUBE.

SUFFERRRRRRRR

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA




ahem. so.

I've been stressing about this ALLLLLLL day.
It's good to finally have written something that not only kicks a critic's ass, but serves it to him on a silver plate. :3

...

perhaps not quite.
BUT STILL.

*rejoices*

now to actually write the rest of this thing...ha ha fucking HA.

http://www.angryalien.com/aa/grindhousebuns.asp


basically.

Put your MP3 player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.

Alive, But So Alone

please can I go now? you don't see me
you roared into the driveway of our southwestern ranch-style house
crazy dreams been calling me
corrupt
Steve walks warily down the street
welcoming you to cardboard city where I think they're laughing at your band
I'm a little curious of you in crowded scenes
do you think about everything you've been through
there are many things to talk about
there's a somebody I'm longing to see
when I woke up tonight
sounds of the night
Southern trees bear strange fruit
my mouth was a crib
alcoholic kind of mood
when I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me
well officer, officer, officer
what do I do to ignore them behind me?
I love myself, I want you to love me
they're trying to build a prison.






(cut up extravaganza? I think yes, definitely.)

bahahahaha


http://members.tripod.com/~whitebard/handkiss.htm

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4654824/2/Thats_what_you_get








WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY

hay guyz
I'm going to take some crash courses in German and then go to Germany and then read Goethe without the annoying medium of translation.

mkay?
mkay.














this is half wishful thinking and half REAL POSSIBILITY right now.

I WILL MAKE SOMETHING OF MYSELF EVEN IF IT KILLS ME

inarticulate wasteland that is my throat:

I condemn you, along with the rest of the heart and heat you gave up in exchange for existence without vulnerability.

Expect neither pity nor revulsion, for neither you deserve. Resign yourself to emptiness, for that is all you have become, and all you can expect to be.

Redeem yourself in distance and in the elsewhere you so desperately seek to inhabit at every wrong turn, at every ill choice.

You were never the victim. You were the woman sculpted of your own conscious, disillusioned making.

Your tongue drips excuses and your lungs breathe self-indulgent lies.

The mute protestations you hail as creativity mean nothing.

Spoilt. Suburban. Brat.

some women don't ever ask for anything at all.