A Parody of Life My fingers tapped the armchair I rested my hand upon. Click. Click. Click-click. Click. I was sent to wait in this aptly named waiting room by my shrink, whom I was sent to by my psychiatrist, who was referred to by my very concerned dentist. They all assured me that this Dr. Minh, M.D., who's name was framed proudly on his very own plaque hung on his very own doorway, was the best in the state. I sat in my rose-tinted waiting room contemplating whether this was a good thing. I suppose if you've got the best neurosurgeon in the state, it means you've also got some of the worst problems in the state. Either way, iA Parody of Life
Only Murderers Unentertained, the author sneezed as the excess wax dripped from the candle at his bedside.Only Murderers
Only a sociopath, he thought, has such dreams of death and torture. Only a murderer. But he did not wish to act out these dreams, he reasoned. He only wished to think them. Safe, inside his mind, where no one would see.
He returned to his notebook, and began again on his narrative. A story of an imperfect man, much like himself, who's mind is plagued with torturous thoughts. But this was not the same man, no, for the author himself was perfectly sane. His charac
Poetry in the Shape of a GirlPoetry in the Shape of GirlPoetry in the Shape of a Girl
This is a poem Which does not rhyme
It exists to show feelings and project emotions Some say poems Aren't written by men Would this hold true if it were About a girl? This is a poem In the shape of a girl It's form is invalid But it's words sick with love These words are all lies And concepts, relative But the emotions hold life Universal and true This is a poem Describing a girl And though she is here She will never read it
Through the FogThrough the FogThrough the Fog
6:23 am, according to the pocket watch attached to my left breast pocket. The company car had broken down again, or rather, all of them had. Well… they hadn't really broken down, so much as gotten their tires slashed. And they hadn't really gotten their tires slashed, so much as gotten them shredded. The offender really had their work cut out for them. It looked like each of the tires had been put through a wood chipper. So here I am, walking down one of these quiet back-road streets. I'm the secretary to the head CEO in my office, and I'm walking to work
Who are you? Who am I?
ILY HI
so... my scanner broke... but I want you to see my obsessive doodles... ^_^ so... maybay when I see you I may do so...
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