The Things She CarriedThe things she carried everyday, weighed down her backpack by at least ten pounds. Always in her phone charger, a pair of headphones, wintermint flavored gum, and an undrunk water bottle. She carried at least three notebooks for notes and class journals. Her two pencils always destroyed by her curiosity and lack of care, maybe the colors might be swapped between the two. The most important thing in her backpack, she swears, is her small sketchbook. “For when a good idea hits me.” she would claim.The Things She Carried9 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes
The notebook she carried held many different sketches and ideas. They ranged from things that should be invented, rough sketches for a future piece of artwork, to a future book idea. Some ideas stayed in the back of her mind. Some pieces will manifest themselves in a story, or full blown artwork. Yet for the perfectionist she was, some pieces will never turn out right in her point of view, despite what others may say. Her quest for perfection often fuels the fire in her to draw ove
no one caresif I ran away would you cry for me? search for me? if I cried in the light, would you comfort me. or leave me to weep. if I died... would you mourn for me. if I left would you care? if I stopped talking, even smiling would you question me? those are if's I know for sure. no one is your friend in reality.no one cares7 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes
ten to one no one would care. i'm just a bug to them. that they try to swat away. more or less im the rag doll. in others eyes. some think I am that porcelain doll. that will break down and cry. some are amused at my temper. I am the PUPPET of them. to control.
everyone is leaving me. my 'friends'. all are gone