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Stealing stuff for phunStolen stuff from eulpie
Will mark with a X what's true lel
I am a cuddler. X
I am a morning person.
I am an only child.
I am currently in my pajamas. X
I am currently pregnant.
I am left handed.
I am a little shy around the opposite gender at first. X
I bite my nails.
I can be paranoid at times. X
I enjoy country music. X
I enjoy smoothies. X
I enjoy talking on the phone.
I have a car.
I have/had a hard time paying attention at school. X
I have a hidden talent.
I have a pet/pets. X
I have a tendency to fall for the “wrong” guy/girl. X
I have all my grandparents. X
I have been to another country.
I have been told that I have an unusual sense of humor. X
I have or had broken a bone.
I have caller I.D. on my phone.
I have bathed someone.
I have changed a diaper.
I have changed a lot over the past year. X
I have friends who have never seen my natural hair colour.
I have had major/minor surgery. -will have-
I have killed another person.
I have had my hair cut within the last we
EmptyI've always wished to be the perfect person for you, but this perfection seems to fade away when you're gone.
I can't express my feelings but I guess it's ok?
Not everyone can do that.
I'm normal, you say, I'm normal, I repeat.
As a parrot, I keep repeating.
Like a dumb.
Do I really choose this path?
Do I really want to end like that?
Do I really want to keep hurting myself with thoughts that go far away my knowledge?
It seems there aren't replies to that.
And what remains me?
An empty heart.
Empty emotions, useless garbage.
Like a wretched egg.
My heart will keep bleeding.
Pathetic human beingThat feeling when you finally realize, after an entire night of remorse, that you can't care less if one of the people you're falling for (in a figurate way), first treats you as shit and then doesn't even care about making you have felt like that.
Fake journal, yeh another oneFake journal.
Why? Cause that contest thing must stay up
Just to tell you... my mouse is fucked up
Some thoughts on Valentine's daySo uhm that day of the year is near again.
Talking about Valentine's day.
To me is just the shitties and useless day possible.
1. Your partner does love you everyday, not just one day at year, correct?
2. It's just a day dedicated to the unbridled consumerism, cause everyone buys stupid heart shaped stuff who can't be useful most of the times, if not for chocolate;
3. People start even more drama cause they're not paired, not loved and shit like this.
Just think that there are mother's day and father's day and some people can't even do it cause they don't have a mother or a father.
See how much pathetic is the thing?
Calling 14th of February an "important day" is just something selfish, at this point;
4. Monuments gets dirty cause idiot kids write their names, hoping that their relationship will last forever. Yeh, it will last forever until some AWESOME person goes and cleans it.
So these are my thoughts on this about this pointless day of festivities and consumeri
OCs interview: Andromedas!1. What is your real name?
Andromedas, I know it's too long.
2. What is your surname?
Desios, I'd prefer something nicer tho.
3. What are your three most popular nicknames?
Uhmmm Andre, Medas, Andros or pinkie, but I'd prefer the first three, please.
4. What is your favorite color?
I guess red.
5. What is your favorite animal?
6. What type of animal/race of human/mythical species are you?
Well I used to be a common human till some time ago...
I'm a Shadow Assassin now, maybe you should be aware.
7. What is your favorite song?
Underwater - Mika
8. What is your favorite band?
Ehmmm... I don't have one at the moment.
9. What is your favorite TV station?
Who has time to watch the TV?
10. What is your favorite pastime?
11. What do you want to be when you grow up?
I'm mature enough to know what am I.
12. What did you want to be when you grew up when you were 4-7 years old?
A jet pilot, instead I became a waiter.
Such a great difference, uh?
13. Time to get more wacko and persona
Meme thingy xDFake journal fake as some people OwO
No, I'm not feeling any good but this thing made me rofl.
Stolen from SirLaeru (sorry but username will be on the artist's comment)
What is your username: SociopathicFrog
Spell it backwards: (( Oh shiet...)) gorFcihtapoicoS
Spell it with your elbow: SOOLCI9P0'AGTKICV GGFVROLGH (( Oh my hell D: ))
Spell it with your eyes shut: SociopathicFrog (( Damn straight!
popsicleSummer forever frozen
An orange popsicle
Sold from an icebox
dry and vaporous
atop a tricycle
Four tingling bells
rung by the little man pedaling at the back
announcing the coming
Framed in trees
always green in the light of the sun
Lancelot Price 2014 August 26
No crappy songs on a loudspeaker loop
just the sweet sweet cold refreshment
I will always live there.
Memories I was excited. Plastic continually crinkled in my fidgeting fingers. Dad couldn’t open the door fast enough. Stark black handle against the white screen door. Click of the handle. Creaking protest if the hinges. Metallic clinking of keys against the shiny metal doorknob. My little sister whining behind us. I danced impatiently from foot to foot on the dirty and worn welcome mat, tucked between my dad and the screen door. I could see my breath. A softer creak as the back door swung inward.
The tile floor groaned under our weight. I darted past Dad, kicking my boots off. Behind us, the screen door closed with a SSSSSSSSS, clunk! My feet slapped on the tiles, past the white refrigerator with the freezer door I could still fit underneath. Soft, blue carpet of the dining room. Light splashing the wall from the small, stained-glass chandelier. Wallpaper I watched Mom put up. The wooden table, covered in scratches and aged. Past the hall a
Diminuendo“Why did you quit band?” My friends would ask. Some were betrayed by my decision, some saddened.
Every time, I would change it: the director was disagreeable, I wanted to do other things, it took up too much time, etc.
Every time, I would think of the moments, the emotions I thought I could handle.
But they became too heavy, too much, too painful.
i. Air conditioned rooms were a luxury after hours under the summer sun, even if the room was just a small practice room. We had new music to learn after all.
I was excited, why wouldn’t I? New music were like new books, new adventures.
Then the sheet was plopped onto the stand in front of me.
It made no sense whatsoever.
“Let’s play it together!” The bubbly teacher would say, her tone more appropriate for kindergartners.
I looked around the room, wondering why I was the only one who couldn’t get past one measure.
“Maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought..”
Cheryl Huges Bio
Character Name: Cheryl Hughes
Age: 22 Height: 4’ 11”
Weight: 120 IBS
Able to pick up weight up to 200 IBs (2X her regular strength) Increased speed(30mph)
Stands erect, Fast pace walk
Has a slight French accent.
Friendly, Outspoken, Tough, Grim, Compulsive
Reading, practicing at the shooting gallery
Pocket Watch (Birthday present from her father)
Moe Huges (Father) +
Helen Huges (Mother) +
Chester Glasgow (Uncle, Mothers Side)
Slade (in beginning)
History: Cheryl’s Mother died during childbirth. Her father raised her until age 15. Trained for a few months at a gym. Able to bench press 100 pounds. Father is dead due to nuclear explosion on bring-your-chi
YesteryearWhy do we long for the things we left behind in the past? Of roses plucked and tucked away within the pages of a favourite book, only to fall into your lap years later when old stories and memories seem larger than the promise of future.
Is it wrong to turn back and wonder and linger a bit on the past? To breathe in the air of yesteryear, graze lonely fingers upon the walls that have seen and heard it all, and steal a moment from time.
Our old melodies are the sweetest… happy, yet bittersweet. When love is young, and so is the world, every small heartbreak feels like the end of the road; yet the only thing that doesn't end is regret… of words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Child, ChildOnce there was a little girl. She was small, with long brown hair and deep-set brown eyes and always smiled at everything. Her mother was an average sized woman with long brown hair and not-so-deep brown eyes, whose entire world was her daughter. Her father was an average sized man with short brown hair, and wild, wide gray eyes.
The little girl’s father had some problems he couldn’t handle, however, and the mother took her daughter away, to live on their own in a small apartment. They didn’t have very many things, because they were rather poor, and the little girls mother worked very hard to make sure her daughter had enough to eat and a few toys to play with. But even though there was no television or expensive toys, the girl was happy to live there with her mother. She knew that since her mother loved her more than anything, it would be okay. They had a routine: every morning the little girl would eat breakfast, go to preschool or grandma’s house, and her mot
confessions full of jack 20I do not go to the hair dressers that often and I get my nails done only once in a while. Don't get me wrong; I do comb my hair every day, and care about being presentable. I do cut and file my nails regularly and put on nail polish if I feel like it. I just do not go to a place of business to get these things done to me. People think it is because I think badly of women who visit those places often. More than a few people have commented "Yes, you are not vain," to me after I told them I do not have such an habit; thinking they are actually paying me a compliment. I do not connect all hairdresser visits with being vain. Maybe I might connect it with conformity; conforming to the society's standards of how a woman should look like. But I am aware how hard it is to ignore those standards while trying to survive in this system. Women are expected to look nice. Well, no, not just expected; it is demanded of us. And it takes time to look nice. It takes even longer if you try to do it all on
On Gender Dysphoria“Why do you always dress like a boy?”
Confused, I looked up from where I was pulling my shoes on. “I’m sorry?” I asked, frowning at my mum where she was washing dishes at the sink.
“You,” she said, turning to me and leaning back against the bench. “Why do you always insist on dressing like a boy?”
“I… don’t,” I replied hesitantly, still confused.
“Yes, you do. You’re always dressing like a boy, or wanting to. Why?”
Thinking for a moment, I remember Shaylah’s sixteenth birthday party, 60’s themed, which I’d wanted to attend as a classic gangster. Then, I remembered last weekend, when I’d gone to the Sugar City Comicon, dressed as Femlock, then looked down at myself now, wearing a black dress shirt and slacks for Film Friday of the school’s Spirit Week, probably the best, most entertaining week of the year. “Not really.”
“But you do! Why c
I Never Even Got to Say Goodbye (Marcello)Once upon a time, in Kindergarten, I had a friend. His name was Marcello. We were the best friends, as we would always play together, talk to each other, and, of course, get in trouble together. Then, one day, Marcello announced that he was moving. I saw him gather his stuff and walk out the door. It hit me hard. I felt as if I'd never see him again.
Fortunately, I got his new address.
One day (I was in first grader at the time), I went to his new house. It felt really good seeing him again. We played Sonic and did a bunch of other random crap. I believe on that visit Marcello got scolded by his mom for complaining about something. I felt bad seeing him sad. Eventually, the bittersweet visit ended as I had to go home.
A little while later, something terrible happened.
My mother had heard from Marcello's mother that he and his father were in a car crash and had to go to the hospital. I was shocked. He could've been dead or something, for all I know.
It turned out that nothing serious ha
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More