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Charlotte Neitzel
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sometimes, like acid, it burns

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sometimes, like acid, it burns

[1] It’s warm. not the oppressive warm of the day, and not yet the cool of the evening just a stagnant warm that is complemented by the soft breeze, not broken by it, a half-assed warmth, feeling like you do at ten to knock off time, when you know you have to carry on working but it’s so close to the end that it doesn’t quite feel worth it or it’s like that state you reach, just before you completely succumb to the realms of sleep, when you’re lost in dreams yet still conscious of the world around you, gently hanging on to the tip of reality by the tiniest of threads. There’s a million romantic ways to describe

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i want to write about being young and free. when we were pirates and the living room couch was our ship and the carpet a firece and deep sea that could rip us apart if we placed just so much as a toe on it. about the summer night i walked alone and asked God why he made the night so spectacular if it was only meant to be slept through, and how i felt like i was breaking some law, gazing in bewilderment, as the things that add spice to life are usually those you are not to indulge in-- like passing notes in class or kissing the boy your best friend has a crush on. i want to write about people that inspire me. people that think they are weak an

growth

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growth

I’m waiting for life to hit me softly, Through snippets and snatches of other people’s lives Beautiful. Detached. I’m riding in a bus full of strangers United in watching the world go by Past the Jewish gravemakers and through the Portuguese neighbourhood. I’m seeing bona fide life through a pane of plastic. Images resonate within me Like footsteps through a dank, empty church. Light filtering through stained glass windows Sacred psychedelia For those who missed last year’s Aurora Borealis Because they were too busy scooping miso soup Into bowls for those who like The feeling of seaweed between their tee

autumn is for change

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autumn is for change

What we really need though, above all else, is to grip onto one another and fight our way through this immense fog and back into feeling. I want to feel so completely that I don't know what to do with myself. I won't know exactly where to start, but I'll know that I'm here for something. It'll be the music that I hear resounding so clearly inside of me, I've just forgotten a few of the words. I want to lay in the grass and talk and whisper and just laugh forever with everyone, with anyone who'll listen to anything that comes out of my mouth. I want to lay with them and talk, or not talk, I want them to know all that I'm thinking without hav

inspiration

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inspiration

 My jeans are a size too big dragging along the thin line between sanity and insanity. I'm riding this small blue stripe trying to see straight in this elaborate pattern of perfectly shaped lines. This world is empty without the colorful descriptions filling every white void. Everything hounds beauty, a barren landscape of lost thoughts but hopeful ideals. Ravenous for creativity, we'll spend our lives here, passing hours upon hours trapped in the wasteland somewhere between our lost muse and a wonderland of wordplay and wispy destinations. Cold hands feel soft walls as quiet braille begins appearing along them. The pressure of our thoughts

So, lets go before I change my

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So, lets go before I change my

i've been thinking a lot about the bohemian life. is it a wise choice?                   no. i am choosing airy fancies over the harsh steel of the corporate world.                  there is something inside of me that cannot live in a glass tube working 40+ hours a week sitting at a desk,                                                no towering                             s                               k                                 y                                  scraper. if it were possible, would i travel this broken country with a backpack        and five dollars in my pocket, watching the pounds drop and sing

long nights

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long nights

Oh, Christ. There's not a chance in Hell that it's really four in the morning and I haven't gone to bed yet. Except that it is four in the morning, and I just tastelessly tossed six Oreos into my mouth in rapid succession, fingers to lips, cookie to teeth, chew three times then swallow and I'm on to the next one in just a few seamless, automatic movements. The pits of my back molars filled with gooey, black, semi-solid sugar-starches. There is no misery as detached or pathetic as early morning insomnia. One hour later and I can't say much has changed, save the fact that I have now made peace with my sleep deprivation and we became friends.

nicotine smiles

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nicotine smiles

"I really wish you would stop smoking, y'know." I gave her a tiny grin, eyes twinkling. I meant it when I said it, every single time, but I could never seem to say it seriously like I should have. Plus, I only told her to stop smoking when I had a cigarette between my own lips, so it was a little hypocritical.   "And I really wish you would stop breaking my heart," She always did have a way of bringing up the past like it was a cute joke, enveloped in the wisps of gray smoke around our heads. "Y'know." With the little mock, I'd only smile, but inside I cringed. We always seemed to be able to reflect on the past as if it were just some movie

sucker love: Chapter 1.

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sucker love: Chapter 1.

Her mouth was moving. I spread my fingers and let my hands float on top of the water, concentrating on the way her mouth moved; the way her tongue hit her teeth when she talked. She was fucked up on something, her eyes were wide and her pupils were so dilated that they looked like black smudges. She was sitting on the edge of the toilet lid, her knees pulled up and my notebook open on top of them. I don't think she'd slept in three days. Probably longer. Her mouth stopped and she picked up a bottle of shampoo and threw it at me. "What?" I sat up, watching the lukewarm water drip down my skin and the spandex of my Little Mermaid bathing su

Walk of Shame

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Walk of Shame

once, and only once, have i ever experienced that clichèd and poignantly awkward ritual known to my Group of Friends solely as The Walk Of Shame. Eightteen. typical weekend. someone's house, no, someone's property... stoli, rum, tequila and beer beer beer. cigarette after cigarette, pathetic conversation: "so, you know this guy? yeah, me either..." trailing off into the night... was it hot? no. it was cool. but not cold. june, is what it was. our fragmented stories and forever dwindling drinks were set against a june night. across the room. talking intently to d. about... something... glockenspeils... oil versus tempera... this too-indie ban
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Tinkerbell's Tears

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Tinkerbell's Tears

What was life like before you? Pirates and princesses Practical jokes on folks who couldn't grasp irony or the incongruity of their lives. And me, just a fly beating against the screen begging for their attention. They couldn't grasp my genius. They couldn't appreciate my abilities. A sovereign sans a single serf. Pirates and Princesses be damned. And you weren't that different. Sullen, stubborn, surly, snot But I finally pierced your perception and showed that you could change most by not changing at all. We flitted, flirted and frolicked, Bursting and buzzing with life. Finally someone to snicker at my sarcasm at their id

Memory Lapse

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Memory Lapse

It loses its self in the mystery. The timeless shell you lock yourself in. Devotion in logic & nonsense. Never taking off But never standing on the ground. or turning yourself around. Tomorrows fears & today's the present. the present day to turn things around but you don't quite know how because everytime you try you get knocked back down Down down down down down You get pushed to the floor & no one helps you up because it's all pain & sorrow Or it's all smiles & laughs You'll never remember which it was But you wish you did You wish you did. You wish everything was different. Yet you're glad everything is the same. Not

This untitled love.

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This untitled love.

A girl with a head she couldn't understand. Late at night, his phone would ring and he'd listen to her half-choking sobs. "If you tell anybody I'll beat the shit out of you," she'd whisper when she'd cried herself out. She was sixteen and awkward, a child with a woman's body. She lined her eyes like a raccoon and her nail polish was always chipped. She stood in the rain until it soaked down to her bones and she coughed for weeks. her fingers grazed his side, traced patterns over his ribs, skin and bones. his head laid on the one pillow they shared, next to her so close that their lips brushed as they spoke. he ran the back of his

Natural disaster

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Natural disaster

She stands like a flamingo. The heel of one foot pushed into and resting on her thigh, just above her knee. Maybe one day she'll fly away like a bird. She stands like a flamingo, leaning the propped up leg onto the bathroom counter so she can balance with one eye closed and apply thick eyeliner. Maybe one day she'll sing like a bird. With one leg high up, she practices saying "I love you" and "But I can't keep loving you." Maybe one day she'll fly away. She stands like a flamingo, at the foot of the bed, naked. He has pride like a lion, the kind of his own life. Ready to take control and go for the kill so no one el

Purity

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Purity

She is skinny, too skinny. She is pale and afraid and blind of everything outside her environment, her world. She is lying on her bed, raising her left hand above her head, closing the gaps between her fingers. And creating the gaps again. She closes one eye and then the other, letting her vision shift the point of blur, darkness. She gets up and walks lightly upon the sky blue carpeted floor. She walks on clouds. Bare room. Pale skin, light body. It is like she is floating. Her path takes her into the mirror on the inside of her open closet door. She sees scars. No, not the ones that line sporadically over her stomach – the light pink scra

My Heroine

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My Heroine

She was. She was unraveling and coming undone at every seam. The stitches had broken weeks ago, and her fingers were too shaky now to stitch herself back up. This is what had happened. This is what all those years of training had come to: a girl. Lying in her own secretions on the floor, holding a crystal glass full of vodka in one hand, and a vile of crank in the other. She was nothing, and not ashamed. And this is what had happened. And no one stirred at the sounds of nothing. Nothing was her name. Nothing was her life. Nothing was what was left after everything had been taken. And she loved it. She wasn't always like this. She wasn't alw

Eden

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Eden

Eden She was always running away. She was always packing her bags and lacing her boots. She was always planning her train routes and checking bus schedules. While wondering how far she could get on twenty bucks, she would touch him goodbye, her hands stained with subway turnstiles and airplane tickets. "You'll be back," he whispered each time, letting her fingers slip through his palms. He was always letting her go – he knew she'd return. He would flip through his journal and, smiling, write something down as she headed to the door. "No, not this time," She would always swear and let the door slam shut behind her. "She'll be back," He w

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Walk of Shame

W

Walk of Shame

once, and only once, have i ever experienced that clichèd and poignantly awkward ritual known to my Group of Friends solely as The Walk Of Shame. Eightteen. typical weekend. someone's house, no, someone's property... stoli, rum, tequila and beer beer beer. cigarette after cigarette, pathetic conversation: "so, you know this guy? yeah, me either..." trailing off into the night... was it hot? no. it was cool. but not cold. june, is what it was. our fragmented stories and forever dwindling drinks were set against a june night. across the room. talking intently to d. about... something... glockenspeils... oil versus tempera... this too-indie ban
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My Bio
Current Residence: Florida
Favourite genre of music: I dont like just one genre my dear
Favourite photographer: Anyone who can capture true beauty. In it's rarest form.
MP3 player of choice: Ipod. get into it
Personal Quote: make love, not war!

Favourite Visual Artist
The ones who nobody really pay attention to.
Favourite Movies
American Beauty && Donnie Darko are the two most beautiful movies ever made.
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
everything.
Favourite Writers
Shel Silverstein
Favourite Games
Uno
Favourite Gaming Platform
www.pogo.com
Other Interests
life. && loving every moment of it.

One day.

One day.

One day some people went to a circus all thinking, "all right that'll be good fun". When they got there the ringleader brought out a lion, and some boy was thinking, "hey a lion cool!" BUT LIONS AREN'T COOL, they're magnificent. So the lion being telekinetic was insulted and ate the boy. That same day some people were out in the Amazon and they saw some elephants. They were thinking, "Aw elephants, aren't they brilliant?" BUT ELEPHANTS AREN'T BRILLIANT, they're grand so the elephants being telekinetic were insulted and each grabbed a person and crushed their bodies into juicy bloody pulp and then shat on them. And then the next day a girl w

new

new

new scraps new photos new stuffs. go check it all out please!

Move out

Move out

so hi. My mom kicked me out. She gave me until like October to either move with my dad or find a job and move out on my own. Im doing the whole job and live on my own thing. I need a room mate anyone interested? of course not..youre all bitches and wanna live with your parents you're whole life. anyways, im gonna get legally emancipated. so she has to pay child support for another year. bleh. i really dont feel good right now i have a tummy ache and im tired. im contemplating moving to my dads that way i actually can live haha i dont know maybe maybe not who knows help me ahhh find me a job so i dont have to go to my dad

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TheDECLlNEHobbyist Photographer
p.s: i have no idea what im doing. haha.
TheDECLlNEHobbyist Photographer
i was provoked to get one of these...so here i am. hi char.
SP4RCO Photographer
W00t!

I had forgotten about you LOL... what's up?

Love :hug:
mad thankage for the :+fav: