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IntroductionSome stories are like fairy tales; a hero and his damsel in distress defeat the evil villain and slay his dragon. Some stories are just the opposite. The once-glorious hero turns on everyone whom he knows and loves, destroying everything in his quest for power. This story is neither here nor there. This story does not lie in-between, or even in the same plane. For you see, this is not just any story, it is many. There is never really just the single story; haven't you ever wondered the fate of the old wizard who taught the young hero, or where he came from? What of his princess, surely she had a life outside of being kidnapped. You see, this is not just any story, nor is it just my story. This is the story of my friends, my family, my enemies. This is our story, and soon enough, it will be your story. This is our story of love, hate, and everything in-between. This is our story of relationships and betrayals, of life and death. This is our story, and soon enough, it will be your story.
DreamAll the world around us, is it really what is seems?
Utopia day after day, the old recurring themes
Rose-tinted glasses over our eyes, since the day we're born
Then one day they're taken, seeing the truth we're torn
Devestated, we start anew, learning everything again
Despite the darkness inside of us, we still try not to sin
Life is Hell for the longest time, every break a gleam
Trying to wake from the nightmare, or at least go back to the dream
Those that manage to return, never happy are they
Nostalgia blinded them, for their foolishness they pay
Those that stay, in a permanent fog is their head
For most this state will stay with them until the day they're dead
Happiness comes in the package we've come to know as love
Though many choices are gone, thanks to the voices above
Life is Hell for the longest time, every break a gleam
Trying to wake from the nightmare, or at least go back to the dream
Santa ClausSanta Claus, Father Christmas, as to some he's called
Each year it's around the world, that he does get hauled
Now I hope you know that he's not real, at least in traditional sense
But if you think that he doesn't exist then you are really quiet dense
He exists as the spirit, the joy of the holiday season
To stop believing in Santa Claus is akin to committing treason
A world without Santa, it would be so very bleak
A hopeless world, that I hope no one should soon seek
WinterWinter gives way to the beauty of snow
There is no place a white blanket can't grow
Such beauty is better unrestrained and free
Covering the shortest bush and the tallest tree
A sheet of snow is an inspiration of all art
It's so very close to many a heart
Brighter than the summer, but oppositely warm
Here in Seattle, a good break from the norm
FearHumans fear the great unknown
Whether inky black depths or hallowed bone
We stay to the light and stray from the dark
Fearing on our innocence, it shall leave a mark
It is natural, so why do we fight it?
It is only an error, in a world so brightly lit
And yet to err is human, to forgive, divine
Or that's how it's supposed to be, in this world of mine
Random quotes from mePersonally, I just find the whole idea of a giant man in the sky creating everything ridiculous.
If you can't imagine a possibility, you can never hope to comprehend the truth.
I'm like a die. Just push me a bit and you'll get an entirely new face.
If people keep relying on the same morals as their ancestors, how can we honestly expect to go anywhere?
The meaning of life? Simple, it's forty-two.
A witty comment? How about this?
I'm not an obstacle in the path. I'm the desire to peer into the woods.
The game? I stopped doing that long ago. Why? It's stupid.
I don't quote others. They just happened to say the same thing I was going to long before I did.
Magaran Story introThis is a story. Well I guess not yet, as I haven't set down a plot or characters or anything like that quite yet, but trust me, before the time that you finish reading this, the first chapter, it will be. Well I guess this isn't quite a chapter yet, but again, it will be by the time it's done. So anyway, the thing I am typing which shall become a story when I finish typing takes place in the make-believe land of Metanide (no, not Meta Knight) and is the home of out hero. Of course, he's not a hero yet, but he shall become a hero over the course of the story, so I'll just refer to him as a hero, okay?
Anyway, the person who shall become the hero of this story but isn't yet but shall still be referred to as such is named Tamres Weveeth (which is definitely not an anagram for my own name, don't even try it), or is otherwise know as Tam. Now Tam is not just anybody, but he is certainly not everybody, and is nowhere near a nobody. He is actually the prince of the province of Cameria, which
A couple quick coupletsOnce we reach eighteen, we can choose our leader
But until twenty-one, we can't down a liter
To sum up beat-boxing and that thing known as rap
I only have one word to say: crap
Yes I do like other guys, why ask do you?
Of those who admit, I am one of few.
English AssignmentOctober 4, 2010 My aunt, Karen Erak, died last week. She was a scientist, and in her will, she left me her final, untested project: a time machine. I doubted it would work, yet curiosity gets the best of us. As such, here I stand, a satchel of supplies, expecting it to send me back to one-thousand years ago, to the Medieval Ages. I have decided to keep a journal of sorts, so that if I should not be able to come back, it may survive to the time when I would exist, and share my story. I guess all there is to do now is to test it. Without further ado, I take my first steps into the realms of lore.
October 5, 1010(?) To both my expectations, and surprise, the time machine did work, and is here with me. I tested it, going back to the moment I left, and then back to the field in which I initially appeared. The land is as I expected it to be, rather barren, and there was a slight mist around me, which has since disappeared. Whether it was because of the time machine, or simply a
A Day with a FilipinoPart 1
Only thirty minutes. That’s how long before we experienced our first car accident. The average group would have seen that as a bad sign, called it a day, and gone to back home to bed. That’s not this story. This is the story of three guys who slammed, at thirty miles per hour, against a guard rail with zero reaction.
Zeth put his head in his hands thinking. Of course I’ve just evened out the damage to my car.
Good ol’ Zeth. He managed to veer into the car rail when the car in front of us decided to slam on its brakes out of nowhere. Otherwise him and Harold would have been in the other car’s backseat saying howdy.
As Zeth got out to take a look at the damage the car in front of us decided it was excellent timing to peel away. Zeth rawr’d, “ NOOOOOOO!!!!” Then proceeded to do an angry man jig. Meanwhile Harold and I watched highly entertained.
Harold was the reason for this journey. He needed to update his passport in order to retur
Joining the Force (Dog Tf)Shannon Morely was 21 years of age and always seeked fun and adventure, something that always had the unexpected around the corner. Which is why she sent off an application form to join the dog squad in the local police force, one she loved dogs more than anything else and two she was be someone good enforcing law and order whenever she went and thirdly each day’s work was unexpecting so who knew what the day would bring.
Three days after the application was submitted, Shannon received a phone informing her that a contract was coming through the post for her to read and sign but only if she was sure.
Shannon smiled as she placed down her mobile on the bed side table and she stood in front of her full body mirror looking at herself in her demin shorts and black sleeveless summer top and imagined herself wear the police uniform with a brown dog on a leash chasing after criminals when suddenly she heard the letter box opening and shutting.
Like a young child at Christmas she ran dow
Tickle torturing Michael part 4 (10,000 Special)10,000 Special
Tickle Torturing Michael Part 4
First I'd like to apologize for not having this story out sooner. It was like I kinda "blinked" and I hit the 10 grand mark. I had planned on making it a special story but it took me a while to put ideas together. After a lot of thinking and planning, I got it. My obvious victim was Michael and I had the perfect plan.
So after I saw that I passed the 10 k mark, I looked at my previous stories, and immediately chose Michael as my victim. I looked outside and saw Michael playing basketball with the neighbor. Michael was wearing a basketball tank top, shorts, and a pair of really old sneakers. I could see Michael sweating from where i was sitting in my room and could tell he was getting tired. And I figured the best time to overpower Michael is when he was tired. As Michael drained his energy I began to plot my tickle attack. And for the first time ever, I decided to tie Michael down and then tickle him. I had 3 bungee cords in my car s
Hey!So I'm just testing a few things like the author tag and some other stuff. There will be something else so don't think 'cause I'm trying to fix things I won't have time to send out a new storypart of a story. Also, just a question, would anyone read a Zoethian thing? If I can write it, I've gotten really adjusted to the persepctive of Lalnable, so writing is a little tricky. Anyways, yeah! Tell me if you'll read that and I'll see you later!
I knew you. You knew me.
Now I'm left with small traces of you in my life.
And this necklace.
My fears wash away as I hold it.
I feel like I'm in need of fixing.
I'm left with goofy grins, Red cheeks and a halved heart.
I feel lifeless.
A letter to my future selfDear me,
This came to me literally five seconds ago. But what I want out of life now, and what i get out of it later, are probably two different stories. Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay. I hope you have kids (depending on age you read this), have a loving husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend and all that shenanigans. Im writing this because who gives a fuck. All I hope is that you do read this. and that you’re not dead, or into drugs, or anything really fucked up like that… My ideal life right now is not probably what you’re living. I hope you are in Texas though. If not, I dont know what happened. Probably money, probably didnt want to upset your parents. I do that alot. Im listening to all of this by naked and famous and its getting me off track, you remember that song, Aly? or do you go by Alycia now? What do you do for work? If its my dream job (Rooster Teeth), congratulations. I hope you date someone cute in the company, then again, everyone the
15. September 2014Das Wort. Ein Wort. Ein stilles Wort im Raum. Ein Kontrast zu allem Schwarz und Weiß. Eine Nuance in allen Farben des Regenbogens schillernd, Muschelsichel, Mondnachthell, Perlmutttanz, Sand unter den Fingernägeln.
Schritte die über die Pflastersteine des vertrauten, altbekannten, fremden, ekligen Ort knirschen. Die Stadt klebt wie Kaugummi an dir.
Weißer Atem, Nebelschwaden, brennen in Auge und Nase, Rachen und mit der Zigarette zwischen den Lippen, stehend im Sandkasten, stehend am Gleis, zwischen dampfenden Zügen, stehend in der Luft. Der Rauch. Ein Moment. Rauch eingefroren in Herbstmorgen. Klirrend, zwischen zwei Fingern zerspringend. Der Moment. Dein Moment. Du. Dein Leben. Du selbst.
Spigelsplittergleich, unsichtbare Wunden reißen, blutige Narben beißen, immer zu kratzen Katzentatzen streichelnd Haut und Ohr, eisgefrorene Nadelspitzen stechen dir ins Herzeleid, einem Nadelkissen gleich, tropft es au
Vita da Dalton - In ritardo (Parte 1)Nicoletta stava correndo verso casa più veloce che poteva. Era uscita con i suoi amici, ma non si era resa conto dell'ora; era molto in ritardo, e sapeva che i suoi fratelli si erano di certo arrabbiati.
Vide che le luci della casa erano ancora accese, e sobbalzò, realizzando che i suoi fratelli erano ancora alzati ad aspettarla. Le cose si stavano mettendo male.
Turò fuori la chiave dalla tasca, aprì la porta ed entrò in casa. Non appena ebbe richiuso la porta, iniziò a cercare i suoi fratelli. Entrò nel soggiorno camminando all'indietro e, quando si voltò, sobbalzò per la sorpresa.
esclamò, vedendo il fratello maggiore in piedi di fronte a lei, con le braccia incrociate sul petto.
Lanciò un'occhiata alle spalle di Joe e vide William, Jack e Averell, in piedi nella stessa posizione.
Sapeva di essere nei guai. L'espressione sui loro volti non prometteva nulla di buono.
Fece un passo indietro, deglutendo a fatica. mormorò, cer
MilkOne of my earliest memories is of when I first poured for myself a glass of milk. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but until that point, one of my parents had always done it for me. However, they had stepped out for a moment, and I was in the mood for a drink. I lifted the jug up onto the counter and fetched a glass, and at that point inspiration struck.
What would happen if I kept pouring? I had trusted my all-knowing parents without question my entire life, at least up until that fateful day, when I had an idea that was truly my own. I was going to infinity.
I raised the jug and poured, and within moments I was testing my grand idea. Half-full, I could barely contain my excitement. Nearing the rim, I had nearly chickened out; this was where my parents always stopped, should I do like them? No, I would see my idea through to the bitter end. The liquid flowed over the top of its small container, only this and nothing more. I cleaned the spill, and, with me as its only witness, t
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More