Harajuku style Lolita Ibuki, really?Do you guys seriously want her Lolita-ed out or do you want her in her tank top with short shorts?
I reworded it a bit, cause i just meant this type of clothing, it might not be necesasarily gothic, but predominately black and white which from what i understand is called gothic lolita, here's an example: http://images.google.ca/images?hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-ca:IE-SearchBox&rlz=1I7SUNA&resnum=0&q=gothic%20lolita%20harajuku&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wi
It would be super challenging. I know there are a lot of people who want the tank and shorts, so don't worry i will figure something out so people are happy!
Its so close, I will check back again tomorrow in the morning when i get to work, so if you want yours to win, then get your friends and gang up on the poll!
Suffocate“I didn’t want him,” she says. “I wanted something, something I saw in the eyes of Libby, Sam, Sandi, and Agnes. Something that would have made our new world, our safe world, a home. Children were a part of that world and so I found myself a child. Perhaps, I thought, I would love him and everything would fall into place. Perhaps with a child I could be content with safety, and normality, and a world without knives taped on mop heads.” A cold smile. “I still catch myself thinking that. I still think that maybe tomorrow will be the day where I can fall asleep with the lights on.”Suffocate2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Carmen’s features are stark and cold; like the chiseled lines of Soviet propaganda etched onto an icy street corner. A straight decided nose, high sharp cheekbones, and thin pinched lips. Her eyes are black. We sit together in a small, bare walled, room on a pair of fold up chairs.
I frown. “You mean off?”
“No. I mean on. During the war
Safety of the Nightthe morning is comfortless; harboring broken placesSafety of the Night1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a plodding routine, navigating tracks
of lesser woes–the harder choices tucked away
to return and darken dreams
How it stinks--cheap beer
a small mob of broken humanity
trying to stretch the waning hours of half-grasped desires
…they, cradled close
and rocking to tuneless rhythms
Wetted beds and chamber pots
dim memories of musty barns and moldy carriage sheds
vaguely sensed presence,
from that, which then, a subtle shift and now
a squelch of untoned flesh;
evading concrete senses
Steel Guitars and broken promises
to mind there creeps–most inappropriate
smiles and laughter; devoid of humor,
leaking down a darkened hall
this huddled child with fears
what pale armor–sweated sheets
Vinyl records spewing smut
the dark will bring them
hoarsely whispered promises, broken all
and moans of storms
speaking to none, for no apparent reason
Sanctuary It grew, ancient, wild and unattended, never pruned or shown a lick of care. It bore hard green apples, delightfully sour. Many hours of a summer’s day were spent climbing among its branches, perfectly spaced such that a boy could navigate it comfortably with just the right amount of danger from falling. It was a play haven where one went to be apart form all that was settled in the world; setting just far enough into a small wood to be shielded from casual view.Sanctuary1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Here was a fine vantage point overlooking a nearby garden. We would watch the old dairyman Loren, unbeknownst to him, as he plucked Japanese beetles from the tall fronds of the asparagus plants late in spring. Inching his way down the rows he’d drop the creatures one by one into a large tin, the bottom awash with kerosene.
The spreading branches of our gnarly giant provided perfect shelter from young Elmer when my brother and I laughed at his antics
How to FAIL at Dating As work became increasingly comfortable, and some progress was made in my spiritual journey, I arrived at the conclusion that in order to continue life with any degree of sanity, I needed find a wife. I still suffered from low self-esteem and realistically, my previous experiences with women could only be viewed as opportunistic sexual encounters. In short, I had no idea how to develop a normal relationship with a woman. Thus, my process of choosing potential mates was . . .How to FAIL at Dating1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
hmmm . . . somewhat clinical.
I made a list.
First, I gathered the names of all the single women I knew—and there were several. Our little church hosted a number of “sisters”—graduates from the recovery program or those serving as counselors. Others came from the surrounding areas to worship on Sunday mornings. My list was formulated, such that at the top were those I felt I might realistically have a chance with. Toward the bottom were those who wer
AnarchyScream the anthem of the anarchist!Anarchy11 years ago in Open More Like This
What is it? Exactly.
I won't tell you; make it up.
Go away. Blow it up.
Burn it down. Deface the town.
But don't give in,
Never -- no.
That's the song we all love so.
Freedom past extremity.
Far away, in my backyard
I own the world; I am a bard.
I wear a beard and shave my head;
All the normals want me dead.
I won't give up; I ramble rave.
You'll never make me behave.
My brother, loser, freak, meek geek
You know-- the beatnick, hippy, punk--
The rock bands my parents debunk--
We treasure what we cannot have:
No allegiance to any flag.
My Point of View"Another Day of my boring and godawful life..." I thought once I woke up... The nightmare didn't help at all and this is just the start of the day. Even through I thought my life was godawful, it was not at all. All I saw in the world was a greyscale dump that's just waiting to rot and eventually die off starting another boring life cycle that takes about another Million years which eventually restarts. Everything I saw was depressing and uncolorfull, just making me depressed or not even effecting me at all. And everytime I see a pony, it all reminds me of how I was an anit-brony, insulting them and saying mean things about them and they all hate me now... The things that started my depression are burnt into my mind, like a scar, that will never escape even if you try to hide it.My Point of View1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
"All my friends get more love and attention then me," I thought, "Why should I get it as well if I make craptastic monstrosities that look like a 4 Year Old's attempt at drawing something that
AnathemaWhat is this?Anathema5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This antagonistic energy ridding me of all accomplishments,
This menacing exertion forcing denial upon me,
Attempting to have me cower before it,
Provoking my mind,
Manipulating my behaviour,
I Dwell on thoughts deliberately secluded from myself.
I am belittled,
Encaged I remain,
I dare not acquire the contentment I deserve.
Proclaiming the rancid factor of my being,
I despise it.
What is this?
This essence creating unbearable misplacement,
This presence advocating unease,
Feeding on my vulnerability,
Awakening my darkest side,
Desperately wanting me to seek refuge.
I am tortured; tormented,
Impossible to escape,
It digs deeper and deeper into my core,
Forever trying to revert what i once was,
I despise it.
What is this?
This level of consciousness conflicting my mind contrary to my will,
This mental state draining one of themselves,
It is exhausting.
Just leave; let me be,
Let me live; I must,
Let me be care free; like children,
Let me believe; in me.
Old Man - MusingThere was a timeOld Man - Musing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
...a man in prime
His rest now drawing near
Life is sweet - still
It moves the day apace
Springtime breezes scatter song
Summer's sun refrains
Joy still comes - in simpler vein
...what once was long pursued
Flutters lazy by - no mind
He's glad of fin and feather
Finds glee in croak and crow
In things that grace the skies above
Or amble by below
There may be time,
For sitting back a spell
(Time will only tell)
Autumn's fine attire is fitting
For age's hoary crown
- He hopes to use it well
Working rockers at his ease
Stalling winter's grim disease
Death Note Seven Minutes in Heaven NearDeath Note Seven Minutes in Heaven Near1 year ago in Romance More Like This
“Peek-a-boo.” Cold blue, claw like hands grasped your shoulders from behind, causing you to gasp. Even though you knew it was Ryuk, you couldn't stop the chill that went down your spine. He let out a quiet chuckle, lifted the basket over your head and placed it on your lap. “It's your turn to play. So stop your shaking.”
“Good grief Ryuk, You're going to give someone a heart attack if you keep doing stupid stuff like that. I almost screamed.” Your embarrassed anger only made Ryuk laugh harder. “Moron.” Trying to ignore Ryuk, you dug into the wicker basket and felt all along the bottom until you came across something small and smooth. It was a pure white puzzle piece, and you knew who it belonged to. “Near, I have your item, come on.” Not wanting to be around Ryuk any longer than you already had, you walked into the closet, sat down and waited for Near to join you.
He appeared in the doorway only seconds after you sat dow
pediatricianCalifornia sun leaked through the side window, and I say California specifically because there is no sun like the California sun. I leaned my head against the glass, my hair slick with chlorine. The air outside the car was warm and heavy; I found comfort and reliability in the sun's ever-present beams. California has one season, right Bob? I closed my eyes and tuned out the noises in the seat behind me:pediatrician9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
A seven-year-old puking into a flimsy grocery store plastic bag.
Ah, the joys of summer.
He gave a little whimper, which was almost immediately followed by the wet slap of orange vomit against thin plastic, and I felt my knees wobble a little. I turned up the volume on my music player and concentrated on the thick dust gathering on the windowpane.
My back, bared by my swimsuit and peeling from a sunburn, stuck to the leather seat as I pulled forward a little bit, swallowing back some of my own bile.
Christopher continued to wretch behind me.
My heart went