Vampires don't sparkleVampires dont sparkleVampires don't sparkle7 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Stephenie Meyers Twilight
Right, at the time of writing it has been a while since I actually read Twilight, but currently my friends are also discovering the books and I seem to be the only one who hates it and actually knows why. Therefore Im actually expressing my opinions here so I dont have to repeat myself over and over again.
One thing a lot of fans might be wondering is if you hate it that much, why dont you ignore it?
Well, I can ignore something I hate. However I cant ignore something I hate that gets thrown in my face everywhere I go every single day.
For starters, I am not THAT opposed to the entire sparkling thing. Yes, its stupid to the point of retardation but there are far worse things to be found in the bowels of this book. Most fans try to justify the weird properties of the vampires with vampires are not real, Meyer can do with them whatever she wants and other
n00b form letters. -fuckspeakDear Sir/Madame,n00b form letters. -fuckspeak10 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You are receiving this letter due to your remarkable inability to type in a comprehensible language, and your subsequent soiling of the _****_ forum. Those with mental disabilities, and those who learned English as a foreign tongue notwithstanding, one should never allow oneself to look quite so ignorant as you recently did. Should this embarassing and insulting bastardization of the written word continue, a sound pwning will be in order.
Sir Cricket's PortraitSir Cricket's Portrait7 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
On a very rainy day, in a very rainy city... Sir Cricket von Marionette decided to have his portrait taken. You see, Sir Cricket had a ladyfriend whom he bestowed the utmost admiration upon. One could even say he prized her esteemed company beyond all other crickets in that drizzly town. Perhaps even in the entire land, though Sir Cricket von Marionette was not one to go galavanting too far beyond the streets of his beloved home.
At any rate... this ladyfriend, Penelope Chirpington, had mentioned in passing that she would quite like to look upon the personage - or rather, the buggage - of Sir Cricket when time and circumstances were not favorable to their being together. In other words, she longed for a certain portrait, to keep on a certain table, which sat in a certain room that served as a place to pass the time, when not in a certain charming man-bug's company.
Sir Cricket had a fervent desire to make this wish of Lady Chirpington's come true. And yet, where among the cobbles of th
Story for a penny in a canStory for a penny in a can7 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
I'd always known there was something wrong with that house. One time, walking to the downtown mall- school, I mean- I saw that overstuffed Halloween decoration, sitting on the porch. Real cats aren't supposed to get that big, na'mean? That thing could've swallowed a poodle and then picked its teeth with beagle bones. Threw a can at it and it just meowed and washed its chest.
Then the birds: every Friday, they'd bunch together on the power lines. Sure, no biggie there; birds gotta roost and get warm, all fluffed up in line, tweeting. Except -
Not crows. Full fledged, "Morrigan-is-going-to-get-you-if-the-witches-don't" ravens all sitting on a single line. No surprise power went out in our neighborhood every couple months. Never seen a fried bird though.
Between black cats, cracked glass, flickering lights at home, the city calling the dump 'historical', and the birds watching, it was kinda weird no one had this idea before. Group of kids see a big old ratty creepy house, f
A Literature QuestionQ: I dread writing a report for my Early British Literature class. Is there a piece I can focus on that will satisfy my professor while still keeping me amused with crude humor?A Literature Question7 years ago in Humor More Like This
A: You've come to the right place, friend.
In terms of mixing historical relevance, academic consideration and outright potty humor, one certainly can not go wrong with The Censure of the Parliament Fart, a 1607 masterpiece that has been attributed to a number of authors including John Hoskyns, Richard Martin, Edward Jones and Christopher Brooke.
The poem stems from a March 4, 1607 meeting of the Commons in which one Henry Ludlow let loose with a quite audible rip during the reading of a message from the Lords. The fart had the effect of breaking the political hall down into a room of snickering schoolboys, leaving the messenger quite flummoxed.
Like all great moments in history, this was recorded in a poetic form that wafted throughout the populace. Some changes were made over the years, but a soun
the science of silence.your arms form a barrier, blocking out all sound,the science of silence.7 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
there is nothing but you.
you are the only thing that
can make a buzzing fan
sound like a butterfly;
a creaking house
like a lullaby.
moaning wind and soft footsteps,
tickings of clocks, downstairs.
but you made it feel like a soft cocoon;
a weightless wall of something golden:
"silence is good in its absolution,"
How To WriteAbstract: an analytical approach to plotting and writing fiction upwards of 1,000 wordsHow To Write11 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Acknowledgements: the potentially amazing Rachel (IfrozenspiritI) served as guinea pig to this; go and tell her to finish the product of that experiment, because you'll love it. Chris Widdison (tearstone) approached me indecently with the idea of writing a longer essay (which will still happen, and be a lot more purdy than this here thing), which would incorporate this essay in another form, amongst others. He doesn't need to read any of this, because he already knows it all.
Target audience: young, inexperienced writers, especially those that find themselves pulling off vignettes and other super-short forms with an ease, while chronically unable to produce anything with more than a handful of scenes and more than 1,000 words.
Part 1: The Premise takes a look at the basic idea behind a piece
Part 2: The Story fills in some of those blanks and gives u
Little White LiesYou dont have to tell me everythingLittle White Lies7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you know the wounds cut deep.
Sometimes its best to save your friends
By holding onto the secrets you keep.
You dont have to confess to all the lies you tell.
Sometimes things are better left unsaid.
Dont feel any guilt for keeping from me
The words you know Id dread.
You dont have to surrender the truths that hurt.
Let me keep my sweet denial.
Let me bask in a little peace
If only for a while.
The Miracle ChildOn a very typical day, a little 4 year old boy and his mother go out on a very fun outing. They have a lot of fun at there favorite restaurant and after that they go on home. But then, something tragic happens, they get in a car accident and the little boy gets a terrible brain injury. He was in the front seat and the vehicle was hit head on. He falls into a very deep coma. There was a lot of pain and sorrow there as well! The mother had a broken arm and two broken feet. She wasn't able to go and rescue her beloved son, no matter how hard she tried. Then they get escorted to the hospital, the mom in an ambulance, the son in a helicopter. The boy gets rushed into the ER and they do everything in their power to help him live. After a long time trying to save him, he gets pronounced brain dead. But thereThe Miracle Child7 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
My Old Friend and ComradeMy Old Friend and Comrade5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first time that I saw you was within Test Chamber 17.
You were smooth, gleaming with brilliant rays that I could barely open my eyes.
You were beautiful.
You were perfect.
We overcame one obstacle after another.
Your sweet whispers rang like chimes in my ear.
"You're doing great. You'll be out of here in no time."
"The way you tumble through the air was beautiful."
"You are so smart. I couldn't have thought of that."
I indulged myself in your honey voice, like a butterfly hopelessly entranced in the aroma of thousands of flowers.
You were the friend I had been looking for in my life.
She asked me to burn you.
The cold, lifeless voice prodded and poked, like barbed thorns dragging and scraping through my mind.
She thought you could not speak. She thought I could disregard you. She thought you were silent.
But no. You were much more than just a partner. You were a comrade that had travelled with me since the start of the chamber.
You were a friend that cheered me on when I sat in fru
Dressing Yesterday," you said, "I went through my closet and paired a tie with each one of my shirts."Dressing7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
You seemed pleased, and Siera smiled a little.
"I've got one whole room just to get dressed in," you added. Since Danah moved out, you didn't.
She wanted to hug you, but couldn't - it was a rule, kind of. No hugging, no kissing. Not since she moved out. It was implied.
So you sat with her on the couch, and tempted Berkeley to sit between you. The cat took up a lot of room, but your fingers brushed hers along the long, narrow expanses of tabby-stripe.
"So, hey. Thanks."
"Please don't say thank you."
"What do you want me to say? I appreciate that you came out here."&
Elite Vocabulary Words 1-500Key:Elite Vocabulary Words 1-5007 years ago in Other More Like This
(Words in parentheses)=directly from flashcard, but I think is unimportant
[Words in brackets]=my own definitions or ways to remember
/ = or
inextricable: incapable of being solved/untangled
quixotic: foolishly idealistic; extravagantly chivalrous
fetid: having a bad odor
montage: composite elements, (pictures) placed closely next to one another
volatile: tending to vary widely; unstable; quickly evaporating
infinitesimal: exceedingly small; minute
nurture: nourish, educate, encourage
gauge: instrument for measuring/testing; to measure
irascible: easily angered; quick-tempered
byproduct: side-effect; something produced in the making of something else
drastic: extreme; severe
corollary: natural consequence/effect; deduction/inference
evoke: call forth/call to mind
gauche: socially awkward
rote: mechanical memorization (w/o full understanding)
sycophant: one who seeks favor by flattering people of wealth/influence
abduct: take away, kidnap
The PhilosopherAnd I ask you, dear heart,The Philosopher7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
These questions you rake me with.
For hope to find the answer.
To brighten my winter day.
To put a breeze through my scorching summer months.
To have shelter through the rainy season.
And to smile though the work of harvest.
What is true?
So that I might find it.
What is beautiful?
So that I might capture it.
What is good?
So that I might enforce it.
What is wise?
So that I might use it.
So that I might answer it.
One day, dear heart,
I shall answer these questions.
Paradise is under your feetParadise is under your feet5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were nice when i was cruel
you hugged me when all the people thought i was a fool
and the way you used to carry me like I was a priceless jewel
believe me I don't deserve you in my life
but you don't care..."Leave me alone," I said
but your tears told me that this is the only thing you can't bear
when I look in the mirror i see a troubled child
but when i turn to look in your eye
I see a beautiful kid that has nothing to hide
you are the only one who is never hard to please
yet I take care of every one but you
and you never not once made your love to me decrease
the way you kiss my wounds when I bleed
the way you always stay by my side when everyone leaves
the way you always manage to put me back on my feet
but most of all the way you hug me close to your heart
How you cuddle me to let me know that it's OK to grieve
you are always my safe shore....my happy tear
a smile from you can whip away my greatest fear,
How you remember the first day I walked,
or what was my first word to tal
She Had the World pt 7She Had the World pt 77 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
You had enough. You got up and walked over to the food table. Some burn-out was spiking the punch with vodka while no one was looking. You walked right past him, looking for Laura. She was standing there against the wall, smiling over at someone. You followed her eyes but didnt find anyone looking back. You thought nothing of it as you walked over to her.
Oh hey, Spence, she smiled up at him.
Hey. I thought I lost you, you handed her purse over and gave her a quick smile.
Suddenly, they started to play Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet by Fall Out Boy instead of the dumb rap. She grinned wide.
I love this song! Lets dance!
Next thing you know, youre dragged over to the dance floor. You told her over and over that you cant dance. But she just laughs.
So you guys stood there on the dance floor and she danced like everyone else
Pop.Pop.7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Two years gone.
Two years missed.
Two years withdrawn.
Two years un-kissed.
A better place.
A better heart.
A better pace.
A better part.
In my heart.
In my head.
In my art.
And is now dead.
Now I sit here and grieve.
But I still believe. . .
To Write Love on Her ArmsWere riding in the car like we always do, always on our way to somewhere else. Im driving, passing highway sign after mile marker, counting the interstates until we get where were going.To Write Love on Her Arms8 years ago in General More Like This
Shes asleep in the passenger seat, skin porcelain pale in the choked dawn sun. Its streaming through the windowpane in flashes that mark time with the gaps in the trees, just a few hundred miles more.
Somehow I cant see how this is a real thing, real like the way hearts break, but like floating up above here, just looking down into her beautiful face. I shake myself like it was only a dream, but here she is, right here in the passenger seat.
Concentrate, just for a second, curve around the bend before I return to contemplation. I don't like where were going now, because to me she is too perfect for the fate that awaits her there, somewhere out beyond my lovers reach.
But still I drive on through the puddles of sunlight, hoping that she wont wake up
FallingFalling was such a strange sensation. It made him feel like he was flying. The only thing that destroyed that perfect feeling was the vivid colors rushing past him in colorful blurs.Falling6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Somewhere, people were screaming. They yelled. For a moment, he struggled to grasp why they were being so loud. Then he recalled the reason with mixed emotions. He had jumped off a building and was plummeting to his death.
As he descended, he saw a face in the crowd. This single face made time come to a complete halt in his mind. Her pale fingers were pressed to her coral lips and profound sadness filled her brilliantly blue eyes with tears. She stared at him from the balcony of an apartment a few stories below his.
He was absorbed by those big, frightened eyes, cradled by her warm embrace. Suddenly, he didn't want to make her cry. He wanted to make her smile, make those tears disappear forever. That look in her face hurt him more than any of the pain in his life ever did. Realizing too late that the only
Time. There's Never Any Time. While you grow up, the world changes. Like when you sleep. You close your eyes, and everything goes into fast-forward mode.Time. There's Never Any Time.7 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Barely any night. Not enough day.
While you grow up, you try not to remember the past. The past was like the plague. Contagious and unwanted.
Your past is a disease. An inevitable cancer. Something you just couldnt avoid.
But most people dont realize that history repeats itself. Its a constant loop.
Fall asleep. Wake up. Consciousness. Sub-consciousness.
Get together. Break up. Make up. Break up.
And most people dont realize that youre making history everyday to hate later.
Think about it.If Money was Honey, then we'd all live like bees.Think about it.7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Freedom and DevastationThis world of corruption, Devastation and Enailation.Freedom and Devastation7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Controlling the minds of the young generation.
This freedom I dreamt of, Vanished as quickly as it came, like blowing out a candle's bright-white flame.
I wish I could disappear completely, fade-out into the air, to be on an open field, with the wind in my hair. A Sense of freedom is heaven to me, when will it occur in the future of me?
To spiral into depression, what does it mean? To fade out of light or sink into a dream.
To make this dream, open and free, this world needs to live so I can be me.
Poem by Jake Scanlan ~jakeyboyzang