Tuesday, 9 November 2010
Monday, 8 November 2010
Friday, 5 November 2010
Errg. Here's a sonnet I wrote.
Forgetting seems like a good idea,
Regretting is sorrowfully my plan.
Rain, frost, sweat, tears and blood always so clear,
Pain, dirt, ice and darkness squashed in a can.
Open it swiftly, let the bad come in,
Close it quickly to stop hope getting out.
In the world that I live, love is a sin.
In my domain, I can cry, hide and shout.
I can run way way way far way away,
I can sob, I can wail, I can lie still,
I don't have to listen to what you say,
I don't have to do your bidding or will.
There's no need to yell and swear at the door,
I can just curl up and weep on the floor.
Forgetting seems like a good idea,
Regretting is sorrowfully my plan.
Rain, frost, sweat, tears and blood always so clear,
Pain, dirt, ice and darkness squashed in a can.
Open it swiftly, let the bad come in,
Close it quickly to stop hope getting out.
In the world that I live, love is a sin.
In my domain, I can cry, hide and shout.
I can run way way way far way away,
I can sob, I can wail, I can lie still,
I don't have to listen to what you say,
I don't have to do your bidding or will.
There's no need to yell and swear at the door,
I can just curl up and weep on the floor.
Life sucks so much, I might as well give up. Sigh. If it were that easy. Death is such a puzzling subject; and a sensitive one at that. Suicide- an ugly stain in a family, the "easy way out". I disagree. I see the beauty in suicide. It's not the easy way out- it takes balls to hold a gun to your head and pull the trigger, make a noose, tie a slipknot then jump. Suicide is a choice- for some the hardest they'll ever make, for some the easiest, and for most the last. I don't think I could do it. I don't have the balls.
Suicide is poetry personified in death.
Suicide is poetry personified in death.
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Linny-Lindsey/626428/
Click here to read the first three chapters of my current story. It's good- if you like fantasy that is.
Click here to read the first three chapters of my current story. It's good- if you like fantasy that is.
Arguing with father once more. I sometimes think he hates me- as I'm an academic failure and have an awkward personality. Then again, I think my mother hates me sometimes too. Sometimes. Thats how it feels. I'm not like Sophie (younger sister by 1 year), who's the 'perfect daughter'. Has nice, respectable friends who don't get hammered and go to house parties, is intelligent and successful in all she does, doesn't make mistakes and can cook. Rather well. My parents think I can't look after myself. Yesterday I printed off my CV- Monday I don't have college, so I'll go into town and start job hunting. BOOM.
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