neji-ai-mist-asassin

His throat burned. His chest felt as if it would collapse in itself. Legs like jelly soon turned to liquid flame. There wasn't much time left. He couldn't keep going like this, at this pace, in this direction. The road didn't go on for much longer, he needed to find another way. A faster way. Any way away from here. As far away from here as he could get. But there wasn't time to find a way. It wouldn't allow that. Nearly three hours he'd been running, but it didn't get tired like he did. It was catching up to him, closer and closer it came, not letting up and not tiring out. He knew running was only going to delay the obvious. But what choi

As I stare down at the circular groove my soda can has created in the carpet, there is a moment of blank and immovable regret. This groove hadn't taken long to form, and I did nothing to let it unsettle into the regular flat carpet shape. I was perfectly content to continue my can placement in that same spot. So with this contentedness, why was there a hanging bit of guilt? I suppose one could say it was a metaphor for my life, what it has become. Not much happens these days, at least not much different. Long days, usually filled with sleep and internet, are accompanied by a constant and inexplicable exhaustion. My parents, who are so gracio

Dear me what has happened to our hats are there still ideas all over the floor does dr pepper still fill your fridge and stomach is bacon any easier to make? Dear me do you still fit the purple pants how is your self-image are you smiling often what about laughing? Dear me is it still difficult to be motivated do you have trouble moving on have you finished any projects where is Steile? Dear me I hope you smile I hope you laugh I hope you mean it I hope you know I care about you Dear me I love you you love you don't forget that love yourself Love, yourself

    No one could say, with any type of confidence, that they knew or liked Mr. Montgomery.  They couldn't say where he was from, nor what he did in that little house of his.  Nobody even knew his first name.  The only thing anybody could tell you is that he was Mr. Montgomery of 2135 Carou Avenue.  And he was the strangest man you would ever meet.

I read                I rage How can some act so                                caring        yet be so                                        ignorant                         to what they say they                                                        understand                                                                        ?     I scream                                                but only in my head                for I know that were I to                        voice                my feelings for the world to hear                                                        no one would

    There once was a kitten who thought she was alone. Not literally, of course she knew there were plenty of people in the world. Simply, there were none for her. She wandered around, looking for the place with the people who would think like her and know what was going on in her head and understand why she would like being left alone sometimes but at other times would wish for as much company as was possible. Many people she met were quite nice enough, but never really were the right people for her specifically. One day, she got sick and so she stopped in the nearest town and happened to meet her mother there in a clinic. Her mother helped

every time.             every time.                                each and every time.          why I do this to myself,                               I really can't explain.      sloth, most likely.  &#

Thoughts hang low             and in the confusion                      silence remains as the                                                   loudest                                                                  noise                  Illuminated                         are the words which        [no]  one                               wants to hear.                                                  The pa(i)ge ends, but never quite                                                                stops                   I am                       listening                                  but ~              Wher

        I'm not cut out for this work it seems,                   just take a look at me.                                    I'm much too odd to fit in there,