Bitchlet 28You're way too important to me to be so far away.Bitchlet 281 day ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Donated To Rock And RollWhen I was young I liked himDonated To Rock And Roll2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
But my parents kept me away from him
They said I should donate my brain to science
But I wanted to donate my face to rock and roll
Confessions of an Apathetic Loser - 2 -Confessions of an Apathetic Loser - 2 -2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Well, I’ve managed to do enough to need to confess once again. Several things have happened over the past week to make me want to disappear. Starting with the fact that I couldn’t keep myself from sleeping with the man. It happened again and it was just as great as it always was. There was something else that happened. I’m not on birth control and he wasn’t wearing a condom. He couldn’t pull out and after listening to him worry about it for a short while I looked at my period tracker ap on my phone. It turns out that according to that I’m ovulating.
That wouldn’t be such a bad thing if things were going well or if I hadn’t managed to mess things up so thoroughly just last night. I managed to get a little drunk and had an emotional breakdown. I was sitting in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god when he walked in and tried to talk me through it. Though, he was the one that caused it. I told him that I couldn’t keep going as we w
Shattered Glass Part 3... OpalI am Life, or my human name, Opal. I am on my way to class. A lot of people look at me like I'm some kind angel. I mean, I'm not an angel, but I feel like I have power. Sadly, my sister is the opposite of my only good ways. She is Death, or her human name, Lily. It's sad to say that she is viewed as a devil, but she's extremely loyal.Shattered Glass Part 3... Opal2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Today, I have gotten mistaken for Olivia. I've seen pictures of Olivia. I look a lot like her, except I have blue in my hair. I have been targeted for a prank, by Miss Plead, or Vivianne. I'm surprised actually, we all look the exact same, and have the last name Plead. Hmm... oh well I guess.
I see my sister in the distance, in yet, another fight. Time to go save her butt and get prank-ed again.
My Memoir: A Day To RememberMy Memoir: A Day To Remember1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
My Memoir: A Day to Remember
By Tristen Decker
We have always lived in the same town and in the same house. The hunter green and eggshell paint on our front porch was always peeling due to the occasional storms. The address placard fixed just above our door has had the end of the “2” broken off. In the backyard lay the remains of old stumps that use to be trees. As a child I was always too curious for my own good. One day, when I was 6 or 7, people were moving into a house only a few up from mine. I was so excited! I raced to the glass door and smeared my face up against it in hopes of getting a better view.
“MOMMY!” I yelled loudly.
“What Tris?” She asked from the kitchen.
“Can I go play with the new neighbors?” I asked.
“Not now, after dinner you can,” she said and went back to making dinner.
“AWWW!” I whined and bounded up the stairs.
I stormed into my room and slammed the door behind me befo
IllogicalIt was late night.Illogical1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I was sitting by my desk, tired, looking at assembly code written by me. It was supposed to take a number and divide it without using division. It didn't do that. My thoughts were scrambled, there was pretty much nothing I could come up with, no possible explanation for why the procedure front of me didn't work properly. What I knew is that on top of this there was another project, overdue, that I needed to work on.
There was a kitchen knife lying in front of me.
Maybe if I'd do this, I could play for sympathy. A student cut himself trying to finish his assignment, maybe he needs just a bonus week or two. Or maybe he just isn't good enough to be in this University. I mean, if you can't handle the stress, this is clearly not a place for you.
I wanted to just go to bed. I was exhausted, I had enough of this, enough of mindlessly sitting by the bloody laptop, enough of numbly staring at the code futilely trying to find a misplaced opcode, enough of going through the mot
What This Writer Does Friends told me I should send her what I've written so far. She's known for years that she's the subject of a story. I kept putting it off because it's not finished and it's not what she wanted.What This Writer Does2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Instead of a "Jesus will save you" tract, something the subject wanted the story to end on, it's a story of her escapades through about ninety years. Not that I've written ninety years yet. Heck, I've only written about one day, with flashbacks.
But I took a deep breath and sent the subject seventeen of the pages I have so far. They're not even the most recent revision; they're what I found in my folders. My printer doesn't work and I wouldn't send her pen and paper copies. Too informal.
I haven't heard from her yet (and may not) but I hope she's happy with what she has. We used to sit over meals and I'd listen to her tell the story of her life. I made notes with her permission. She's had a long and very full life, a fascinating one. From
I'm Afraid to Say She Never Made it Home. (Part 2)She didn't know why he sat next to her on the bus, or why he was even taking this bus back, but she didn't not want to be near him. don't over react, she thought. He put his arm around her shoulder, his face inches from hers, Rini didn't want to look at him, she was afraid he would kiss her again and she didn't want to. I just need to get home, she thought. He put his hand on her knee, and slowly made his way up her thigh, lifting her dress, exposing her skin. She shook her head no, and looked away "no? ok". and he slowly put her dress back the way it was, but didn't move his hand. she felt relief, knowing he wouldn't try it again.I'm Afraid to Say She Never Made it Home. (Part 2)2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Soon the bus was packed, and the bus started to move. Everyone on the bus were drunk out of their minds, kids in the back still drank out of their cups, some slouched in their seats, and others loudly cheering. When the bus started to move, so did he. He moved his hand up her dress, and slivered its way underneath her panties. He stared moving her fingers, b
A Narrative About My Mother Dying My mother was never really a “mother figure” to me. From a young age, I was either left by myself or ignored completely because the woman that brought me into this world couldn’t be asked to watch me, or for that matter have anything to do with me. I remember it being a Friday in the middle of October. I didn’t go to school that day because there were conferences. I was two weeks short of thirteen years old, in grade seven. Around nine at night, my father came home from work. He let the dog out and the smell of someone burning leaves came in through the back door.A Narrative About My Mother Dying1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
“Is your mom still sleeping?” my father asked jokingly. My mother had had countless back surgeries and was left essentially an invalid. As a result of this among other things, she was a drug-addled alcoholic with the schedule of an author.
“Yeah, she fell asleep at the computer again.”
“Go check on
Untitled (2011-2015)When we met I was nothing else I could ever need in my life.Untitled (2011-2015)2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You were a friend of a friend of a friend, and after one long night in early September you drove me home and I saw you for the first time.
It was a late autumn eve when we sat on your kitchen floor. I put my head on your shoulder and we kissed. We were opposing poles of a magnet, drawn to one another, mesmerized and unbelieving. We held each other until dawn. I was fascinated that life was turning out to be better than dreams.
In the depths of winter we sprawled under the glow of your bedside lamp. It cast a warm light to the small room, casting shadows in the far corners and lighting up your face like candlelight. I held you in my arms, and traced the words on your bare back: "Hope is the thing with feathers...".
"I love poetry."
"There's this one poem that I love. It goes: 'Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches on the soul, and sings a tune without the words, and never stops at all.' Somethin
10 strangest people I've ever met on the internetThis is another list of weird people I've met, only these were all behind a digital screen, which makes them slightly less alarming, but no less weird.10 strangest people I've ever met on the internet2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I know that people like to act weird/stupid on the internet, but there are just ridiculous:
Number 10: Kabozhi.
Also known as NarutoEternal, he is one of the users of a lesser-known One Piece Online game. The people there can act a little strange, but this guy just puts it over the top. He mostly runs around as a marine trying to trick people into getting arrested and curses at you if you see through his plans. (Even though cursing there is strictly forbidden.) But what makes him so strange is that he uses his devil fruit to fly around and destroy people's ships and not even take any of their loot. He then will turn to you and say: "I cannot control my strength..." then move on. What a jerk! And if that wasn't already weird enough, he was once afk and everyone swarmed him and asked about his devil fruit. He paused for moment after comin
Bitchlet 29Him: "What are you going to do when you have like 17 polys and 17 stuffed animals?"Bitchlet 2918 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Me: *looks around*
"I'm gonna need a bigger bed."
Writer's Block/ Bandphoto5 Years ago, I lost my only bandphoto. Too bad, cause that was the most important achievement of me in the past 20 years. Proof means more than words. The photo showed a beautiful a-sexual bunch of garage-rock punks with intruments before a white curtain. At the same I couldn't work seriously for the past 5 years due to a series of events, including money shortage and a true love that got married, but not with me. Plus many other awful things, like the passing away of my dad and serious illness. When I figure, I should be happy that I'm still alive, but I'd be more pleased if I could make some decent work. Let's hope I'll get something out of my hands soon.Writer's Block/ Bandphoto6 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This