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The Story of Winter"I have to give you something," he said lightly, looking up at the expanse of sky stretched as far as the eye could see.  "That's the way these things go.  A deal is a deal."   
"Right," I replied distractedly, wondering what he was gazing at.   
"How about winter?  I'll give you winter."     
The night was cloudless.  Inviting.  I think I would live in the stars, if I could.  I glanced at him, studying his profile.  I wasn't sure if he was mocking me or if he actually meant anything he said.  I would never find out.  I The Story of Winter
in Fiction
you'll think of me.
in Fiction
if i had the words.
in Non-Fiction
delilah whispers secrets.
in Fiction
instead of breathing.
in Fiction
Human, BeingThere was a time, not long ago, I would have given anything to be something else.     
Ever since I was little I wanted to be an animal.  It didn't really matter what animal, as long as it was an animal.  Animals were beautiful effortlessly, it seemed to me, and oh so deserving of love, admiration, respect, and affection.  I was not.  I was less than perfect, unlovable as a little girl, and so I sought to be an animal.  It had to be better than being a human, especially a chubby little girl who nobody understood.   
As I grew, I centered my life around this belief Human, Being
in Non-Fiction
An Interview With Gods n DanteAide  
    1. So in your opinion, are you Uke or seme?  Dante  
    that wasn't he question.  Gods  
    he question?  Dante  
    I'm seme in my opinion. cos I have a penis that is the size of my age  Gods  
    idiot.  Aide  
    O_O  Gods  
    i feel like i should be seme but sometimes i donno.  
Dante  
    I'm a bottom seme. that likes to cry after we make love  Gods  
    i c An Interview With Gods n Dante
in Fiction
love is not a noun,i never thought of a name to call him. he was a human, but he was my human.  
 
his heartbeat reminded me of a rainstorm, or maybe the axis of a train wheel, but either way i hated how it mattered to me and how cliched the mutterings of a heart became.  
 
i felt like a bird, a yellow-bellied sap-sucker, every time i heard it whispering blood, but that never meant more than an elucidated want for something prettier. it resonated in my own, an echo of some crossed wires and heartstrings.  
 
my heart broke for his, but never in place of it.  
 
i didn't know if it was wrong to want him solely for myself; love is not a noun,
in Fiction
we are all strangers"if i were a stranger, i'd probably kill myself."   
"what the fuck are you on about?"   
"if i were a nobody. a ghost. an unknown. like the man who goes to the market everyday to get a brown bag full of his groceries, smiles and says thank you to the cashiers, and wears the same black trenchcoat. i wonder if he's dead..."   
"is that where you were?"   
"...but everyday, the cashier at that same, damned market rings him up but never sees his face. she never hears him say thank you, she just tells him to have a nice day. and he smiles and says he will, and she should too. but she doesn't fucking know, s we are all strangers
in Fiction
How2Make An AWESUM Female CharHEY? So you want to make an awesome female character that will be loved for all glorious ages to come? Well look no further! In several easy steps, you'll be well on your way to gracing fiction with what will eventually become one of the greatest female characters of all time!   
1. Real Girls Don't Wear Pants. A major rule in physical design is never ever have your female character wearing pants. Or, GOD FORBID, jeans. She must always wear either a skirt, shorts, or some freaky variation between the two. But never pants. (unless they're really tight pants that let you see everything. Black leather is also highly suitable for this p How2Make An AWESUM Female Char
in Non-Fiction
we are a sunrise.
in Fiction
calbertthere is a zebra named calbert. he doesn't like his name. his mother chose it, but he didn't like her taste- besides, she's not the one that has to live with it.   
calbert is a little different than the other zebras he knows. he doesn't exactly have friends, but he knows everyone in his herd. there's peter, the only zebra who will even talk to him. calbert likes peter just fine, and peter likes calbert just fine, but calbert isn't only different in his mother's choice of names   
see, calbert has rainbow stripes. it's very strange, to live in a world of black and white yet be coloured so brightly. calbert grew accustomed calbert
in Fiction
tomorrow sounds like you.tomorrow, i'll be lying to you through a clenched jaw prepared for you to notice this amongst other nervous ticks. i want to be found out when i say i don't miss you, when i say i don't need you, or love you. i want you to know what i'm saying when i'm not saying anything at all.  
 
tomorrow, i'll be talking about nothing at the top of my lungs and you'll be ignoring me. sound waves will be crashing on empty shores with no one there to greet them and the sand will get between my fingers and in my hair. i won't be able to get rid of this feeling for days. and i'll care even when i know i shouldn't.   
tomorrow, i'll s tomorrow sounds like you.
in Fiction
can't talk about it nowi sit on the end of her bed and watch her braid her hair.  she's beautiful in the dim light from the lamp on the floor.   
the way her dark tangelled hair falls around her shoulders makes my heart ache. if only i could run my fingers through it and show her how amazing she looks.  she has pale skin and red cheeks, wide eyes that are sometimes green and sometimes brown, and dark eyelashes that she wishes were longer.  
 
she talks to me about love sometimes. tells me how she's too broken to care, too scared to want to. i tell her that love could heal her cuts and bruises if only she'd let it. but she won't.   can't talk about it now
in Fiction
harlequinade smilehe has a harlequinade smile and sometimes we fuck under the stars. in the backyard; a mess of drunken, tired limbs shaking in the breeze and shaking under one another, we disregard everything we care about for as long as we want and everything is perfect as long as we keep it that way.   
we collapse into each other; our heartbeats slowing and our breaths becoming deeper as we lay next to each other and watch what we can see of the stars from our suburban backyard. he tells me they're beautiful, and all i can remember is the real stars; the real night sky without the purple haze of pollution clouding the sky. i want to show him the harlequinade smile
in Fiction
fuck yeah, halloween"you look like hell."   
"that's because i am hell."   
"right. what's wrong?"   
"well, i am coughing and it tastes like blood- it's halloween so i don't mind too much, i get to pretend i'm a vampire; i am very tired, i realised that my eyebrows are uneven, and my heart is made of styrofoam- of all materials!"   
"oh, shit. that...wow. are you going to the doctor's?"   
"for what?"   
"the cough, you know?"   
"isn't it more pressing that my heart, my damned heart is made of styrofoam? God, i've always loved digging my nails into those styrofoam cups, loved the feeling of fuck yeah, halloween
in Fiction
SIPIYU Chapter 7Chapter 7   
Investigation   
 
 
 
 
 
The only lights in the room were the small table lamps illuminating the entryway of the asylum. It was rather late––almost ten––but considering the short notice, the staff members were relieved that anyone would show up at all.  
 
Alexander sat in one of the lobby chairs beside a table. He wasn't reading anything––just silently waiting with his leg bouncing in anticipation. Most of the council remained standing, quietly talking amongst themselves in a hushed whisper.  
 
It was definitely past the children's SIPIYU Chapter 7
in Fiction
The Elf and the Devil     Once upon a time, there was a simple Elf maiden who, against the prohibitions of her kind, went in search of the world of men. She was intrigued by the stories of the human creatures – tales of wonder and intrigue, of beauty and corruption, power and poverty - all interwoven into one ephemeral race. So, foolish as it was, she ventured forth, all alone, from the safety of her own realm and into the woodlands that separated the Faerie Realm from the Mundane Lands.   
     Yet she did not remain so for long…   
     Having warily approac The Elf and the Devil
in Fiction
this probably isn't about youthis probably is about how the sun was on the opposite side of the sky when i woke up this morning. and how my name looks wrong every time i write it until it's gotten to the point that i'm not even sure how to spell it. it's about how everything has been flying out of my control so that i can't remember how to walk without making a sound. or how to hold on to the edges when my vision gets too blurry. this is almost certainly about how you live one and three fourth miles to the north of me, but i forgot and slept facing the south last night so now i just feel like i turned my back on you.  
 
but really, this isn't about you.   this probably isn't about you
in Fiction
Mapping the House
in Fiction
18 awesome stuff to do..18 AWESOME STUFF TO DO IN AN ELEVATOR :   
1. When there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder and then pretend it wasn't you.  
 
2. Ask if you can push the button for other people, but intentionally push the wrong ones.  
 
3. Hold the doors open and say you're waiting for a friend. After a while let the doors close and say, "Hi Greg. How's your day been?"   
4. Drop something and wait until someone goes to pick it up and then scream, "That's mine!"  
 
5. Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the elevator.  
 
6. Move your desk into the elevat 18 awesome stuff to do..
in Fiction
a taxidermist in my spare timeit's always the last week of november when i'm making up statistics to say how awfully uncomprehensible i am.  and it's always at exactly a quarter to eleven when i'm writing about nothing except for the vomit in your eyes or the blood in your mouth or another cliche of how pissed off/upset/overdramatic   
 i am   
 not in love,   and i am not dressing corpses in your clothes,   and i am not in love,   and i am not lying to 500 strangers right now,   and i am not in love,   and i am not pretending that the sweat in your hair or the vomit on your skin or a taxidermist in my spare time
in Fiction
bird with a broken wing.-   
it was late. the sea looked like the end of the world and they were telling us to grow up when really all we wanted to do was dream. the water was dark and still at the bottom of the rock bank where we sat.  
the boys around me picked up small rocks and threw them as far as they could. i looked up at the sky and asked them why they had to ruin the calm.  and they said they had to know they could make an impact on something. that they could change something. anything  
i could see stars, but really they were just satellites.   
 
it was the feeling of knowing i'd never be able to put your cds away. bird with a broken wing.
in Fiction
we could split the sky.it's morning and i can feel thunder rumbling through my veins and building in my heart. the ceiling seems too large to belong just in this one room and i'm waiting for it to open up and spill quarter-sized raindrops on to the back of my eyelids. i wonder if the sound of silence still echoes the way it used to when this bed wasn't two sizes too big for just me. if i wanted to, i could roll from side to side without ever meeting any sort of resistance.  
 
but i don't want to.  
 
i want to press my handprints into your collarbones and taste the better side of these storm clouds with electric sparks, flashing white and blue we could split the sky.
in Fiction

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