Fate Played A RoleI sit and tell myself
"I feel like this is meant to be"
I feel like I've never felt before
and I can't imagine feeling like this again.
But then the doubt sets in
when he doesn't call
when we don't talk.
We're not near.
The monster of
"it's not meant to be"
creeps over my skin-
crawls into my mind.
We don't like the same things
we don't listen to the same music
we don't have the same hobbies
what do we have in common?
And the monster of
"it's not meant to be"
whispers so seductively in my ear
"it's not meant to be, honey.
Go and find yourself another man,"
But I know
know beyond doubt
that even though we're not a like
fate has played a role through the tough times
and we're meant to be
at least for now.
Saying GoodbyeIt was time to say goodbye. She had spent three incredible weeks with her boyfriend at his house by the ocean.
The house was a gift to him from his grandmother. He had always been her favorite, even though everyone says that parents shouldn't play favoritism. The house was gorgeous. It had a front porch that was weathered wood from the constant strain it faced from the sun. On the porch was rocking chairs that she spent most of her days in reading. When you walked into the house it was a small two bedroom house with a kitchen that you could only cook in and a living room. It was small but comfortable. A place that she felt like she could raise her kids if she really wanted, or if her family extended past three, somewhere that would be great to vacation at.
That was where she had spent the best three weeks of her life, and she really didn't want to leave. No, she didn't want to leave the bedroom where she had spent many nights with her boyfriend. She wanted to stay and continue on to "p
TopicalityActive chat goer
Digital artist, or so she claims
Really nice about making compromises
Intelligent 'cause she's totally not a troll
Energetic with the amount of emoticons she posts
Nifty and ninja like, where does she go to sleep?
Nice for being so kind as to give me a cake!
Extremely awesome and cool, 'cause she's fun to talk too.
SummaryFighting a past filled with misery and violence, and a present filled with uncertainty, Nicole fights her way to where she wants to be. In this dramatic novel, Nicole is an 18 year old girl re-telling her life as she goes about to tackle her future. Interwoven into the plot line of her daily life in college are little antidotes about her child hood.
This story will take you on a whirl wind adventure of romance, drama, mental health issues, sexual questions and more all tied up with a nice ribbon of humor. Nicole will lead you on an adventure with a quirky attitude, and dark humor through what would appear to be a normal life, but she makes it out to be a little bit more than that.
metalThe place of worship is an old warehouse
that has leaky holes and metal everywhere.
It looks old and used but it holds in the music.
The band sets up
and then everyone crowds up to the stage.
This is the beginning of the worship.
Everyone bows their heads
then the music starts.
This is what they've come to worship.
If you watch you see them stare up at the musicians
like they're gods,
Like they have the solutions to all the problems in the world
if you can just stand around and listen to what they're saying.
Everyone bobs their head in time
up and now.
And if they're not bobbing they're raising their fist in the air
looking up and pouring adoration on the musicians
the ones that create the music that pounds through their feet
through their chest
and into their heads.
This is their place of worship
a warehouse built into an altar of music.
This is their time to feel one with the world
to reach a nirvana.
This is what music can
Words Are MeI write these lines out
in testimony to my life.
Everything you read
unless otherwise stated is real.
It's me bare and naked
on your computer screen for you to look at
to prod and to devour.
I'm there for your to enjoy or not.
When I write these words
I feel like I'm putting paint on a wall.
Each colour means something different
each design is something different.
Then I'll go off and forget about the wall
until someone mentions it.
Then I'll look at it
and see emotions and memories clinging to it
like dusty spider webs that only I can see.
So I might put a new layer of paint on it
just so I don't forget what I was saying.
So take my words to heart
when you say something bad
it's like you're stabbing me.
When you give me criticism
you're prodding me forward
as long as it's not with a knife.
When you praise me
it's like you've decided to give me some awesome perfume
that lingers for a while but goes away eventually.
My words are me
and when you hurt my words
you hurt me.
Barefoot Down Hotel Hallsmy bare feet pad down the empty hotel hall way.
I can hear the voices behind me
dull and nothing of importance.
If i was paranoid
i would say they followed me out of the laundry room
but i'm not
they had their own business.
So I look down at my ankle
and there's my little black bow
that I tied on when I was at your house
I asked you if you thought it was cute
because I wasn't sure if I was going crazy
or something else.
and you said it was cute and so I left it
I left it on as I traveled through the airport.
I retied it after I got off roller coasters.
I look down and I feel this feeling
that I thought I'd lose after I got through the airport
after I played on the roller coasters.
I thought it'd go away
it'd fade in time.
But maybe I haven't given it enough time
and maybe I never will have enough time.
I have to say
it's addicting to wake up to one you love
every single morning.
it's addicting to play house with the person you love
every single day.
it's addicting to have cuddles and b