My heart; it pitches a tiny blank pace,
Everyday I don't wake up to see your bright face.
Please my beloved, for if you leave home
My heart beats it out like a sad metronome.
The Wedding SpeechYou should know, I had a dream of giving you a speech on your wedding.
It was white and glittery. A little like a white Christmas but without the noise. It was diamonds and satin and white flowers. A June wedding.
Your man was dashing. He was in a white suit, if I can remember.
You were stunning, as you always have. You make your sweatshirts seem like wedding gowns, so surprise me if I found you absolutely beautiful in the real thing.
A microphone was handed to me and I had a card up. I was never good with speeches.
I've always wondered why we were friends. As if fire and water were to meet long enough to make something of themselves before they douse or evaporate, but they never seem to create something; only a sight to reckon with. You were brash and outgoing and adventurous; I was selective and cautious and unnerving.
We've never had time together. We were always on the other side of campus, like the weights of a turntable that never seem to meet, just to keep the balance
Never Finish Last Chap6
Fenny sinks her elbows down on the lavatory. She scoops up the water running from the tap and splashes it to her face. Like Tressif from the apartment doldrums and Gunnels back at the locker room, Fenny copes with the player switch of Roo Island and Brightvale with an empty frustration. Gordo was always there for her, even after the final buzzer. Now, he simply wouldn't. He would be sitting on a different bench on a different locker room mingling with different players on a different team. He is on a different land now, and there is nothing she can do but see him on the opposite side of the field. I guess it takes some time for it to sink in, doesn't it? Fenny asks herself.
She reaches for a clean towel on the restroom counter and pats herself dry. When she lowers her towel, she gets startled by her own reflection. Having realized that it was only just her reflection, she takes a little chuckle in the bathroom. Surprise! I'm ugly!
Never Finish Last Chap5
After practice, as a token of gratitude, "Squeaky" Tressif offers the team (including the manager) a night out for dinner. They deliberate for Shenkuu cuisine (Shenkuusine by some,) and find the perfect niche on the boardwalk of Blumaria.
The restaurant, the Paper Lantern, has been in business for a small number of decades, and is run by an equally small Shenkuuvian clan settled quietly in the borders of Roo Island. It's had its fair share of slow nights, but tonight, it's going to be the talk of the town when Team Roo Island enters its doors.
At least, it would be, if the team trudged in through the door in full uniform signing autographs for aspiring Neopets. But that draws too much attention. One call from the likes of the Times and they'll have to exit through the kitchen doors. Exiting through anybody's kitchen doors is always a bad thing. As a manager, Keila Varoix is always prepared for situations like this.
King of Unrequited LoveHe sat there by the bed on my apartment window, intently typing out the little thoughts his scatter-brain could not catch by the flitting minute. He was wrapped with the coats and scarves of a million scavengers by the cold window frost. He tapped out his keyboard with the gentle sound like rain that spread throughout my room as I lounged staring at the ceiling. The night was just about to begin with dusk plastered behind the city silhouette outside. He left to buy some coffee, since the last batch brewed had emptied from my pot, and he left with one last warning, pointing at his laptop:
"Do not read it."
As the curious little caterpillar that I am, as soon as the latches of the downstairs door and the stone steps of my building sloshed with his iron-toed boots, I shed my blue blanket into the broken oak floor and trudged towards the screen. It reflected the crystal lights the frost on my window had gathered, and the white starked throughout that little corner of my room. I sat up, str
Never Finish Last Chap4
The sun blazes on the local sports arena. It is much, much smaller than the grand behemoth sitting in Altadorthe land, after all, invented the sportbut the small stadium feels right at home with its bright colors and its open field. Rumor says it has the largest concession stand in the whole of Neopia. Go figure.
On the rubberized oval surrounding the Yooyuball field the team circles it at different intervals. Fenny, the first to lay her tracks on the gravel, keeps at her pace, straightforward and vigilant, avoiding any company. High above is Clutch, hovering over the arena. He strengthens his greatest assets, his wings, by bringing the heavy duty wing guards and strapping them on for his usual jogs. His wings need to block the hardiest passes and scoring shots, so they need every chance of exercise they can get. Trailing behind is Lilo and Jair. Besides other things, being the center and right forwards they talk strategy almost constantly.
Never Finish Last Chap3
The clasping of gear echoes through the empty halls of the local stadium. They come from the locker room, which is occupied by the Neopets who make the Rooligans on the bleachers scream with fury; who make their temples pulse with dedication and adrenaline. This is their first time playing since the championshipsor rather, for the second bracket. The team, since the very start, fights promisingly; shocking even (and that's just the uniforms). The Rooligans bagged the fourth place trophy on the very first Cup and it was going up from there. By the third Cup, the ramshackle team of misfits from the small island won first place. But as the trend goes, the winners were knocked out of their pedestals and placed in the shoes of the jesters. They were pushed as far as ninth place on the fourth Cup. Rooligans everywhere were devastated.
But like a tireless factory worker on the surface of Kreludor, the muck did not stop them from defying gravity. The team wo
Never Finish Last Chap2
Roo Island draws crowds of various melting pots for different reasons. For once, the subjects of a kingdom enjoy having a king. King Roo governs the island with a "jelly fist" making his everydays legendary. One might think: if everyday's a jolly holiday in Roo Island, then no day is a holiday in Roo Island. But in the sheer prospect of merrymaking, Roo Islanders, or, as what they colloquially call themselves, Rooligans, make it happen.
Perhaps the wow factor is the fact that the entire island is a proud amusement park. Exclusively why it's a summer getaway (or any other sort of seasonal getaway) is because of the carnival appeal. Roo Island boasts of housing the Games Room (thanks in part to the overhaul from the bug invasion earlier this year), the Merry Go Round and the Art District: hot spots for creativity and fun.
What perchance a most well-known landmark in Roo Island is its grand boardwalk, located in the port city of the kingdom, Blumaria. It wraps around the island's bay for
Never Finish Last Chap1
Sunlight slats across the room as morning peeps its righteous head. In a bed by the corner a huddle of blankets bunch up, enveloping a mass of fatigued musclesonce agile and steady, now a dormant volcano. The Lupe rolls over his entangled blankets, only to have his sleep disturbed by one of the sunlit stripes that zoom across the room, aligning itself with one of his eyes. He squints and casts the covers over his head. He is not accustomed to early morningnot after he started his two week vacation, anyway. His groans, slight and deep-throated, echo under his blanket hideout. He does not want the morning to start.
Tough luck, then, to have a manager like Keila Varoix. The veracious Blumaroo comes over at least once a day, usually just after the sun comes up, with an attitude that can cut through the hardiest player. Thing is, she wants his morning to start. It gives her the thrill to make his morning start. If any odd job, good habit or tiny exe
Dear Weasel23 Milkweed Avenue
Pritchett, British Columbia
December 15, 2009
I would like to tell you that you've won, fair and square.
Well, not really.
I mean, in terms of what had happened over these past few months, I believe you have earned yourself a gold star. Or even a trophy for what you've achieved. Not that I'm writing in constant loathing, or anything, (and who has ever mentioned horrible things like that, anyway?) but I am writing you a letter of congratulations.
And you ask, yourself, Olivia: why is this pathetic bloke snail-mailing me a glorious congratulations letter?
That is a good question.
Being Pro-Life isn't easy."Prolifers’ are crazy fascists
Who complain about abortion,
They put some cells before a life,
And chastise a woman for her choices.
They must not understand,
How it feels to be judged,
To be hated or shunned down upon.
Or deprived of love."
But get this straight right now,
Because that’s not at all true
I have a really good feeling,
You don’t know what we go through.
Pro- life isn’t about abortion,
Whether a fetus is alive or not,
It has a much more deeper meaning,
And it would help to give it some thought.
Pro-life fights for those,
Who are alone, depressed or scared
Who think death is the only way,
To get them anywhere.
Prolife fights for those,
Who are beaten, for their orientation
or those who are looked down by the nation.
Pro life fights for those,
Who starve in other countries,
Why do you think Catholic Groups,
Go to feed the poor and hungry?
Prolife fights for those,
Who simply have nothing left,
Who are alone in the world,
And are welcomed by onl
StargazingThe stars are watching me tonight
as I am gazing at them too,
and imagine what it feels right
beside the one I love; It's you.
I picture you as one of them,
illuminating from afar.
I'll gaze at you, like precious gem,
and dream that we will be at par.
Is it odd that I guessed my fate before I could even piece it together?
With my father and his cruel teachings.
My mother and her superiority.
My brother and his anger.
My sister and her detachment.
I've been smiling this whole time..
This whole time!
But that's all I ever did.
Not breathing, not catching a breath.
But now, I understand why I didn't.
For each time I breathed, I breathed glass.
Sharp pointed shards.
Piercing my throat, cutting my tongue, blood gushing from every slash.
Thick crimson lava dripping down to my adam's apple.
Blood flying out with each cough.
Oh-how this pain defines me!
Oh-how I wish it didn't.
CatharticShut the door and breathe a sigh,
Not many understand
How truly vital is this time;
I take my pen in hand.
I lock myself inside my brain
And tuck away the key;
And finally I open up
Into a writing spree.
Sunlight rushes in upon
The cobwebs of my soul;
The stale air is swept away
My thoughts can now unroll.
Scattering mosaic words
In frenzies on the page;
My spirit soars in victory
Like swallows from a cage.
The bottled feelings that I hide
Find refuge and release;
This quiet pen-and-paper world
Enfolds my heart in peace.
Disastrous EscapeNow I know of your pain
please stop lying,
you know you're going insane
I want to save you from yourself
They hurt you
and I want to help you
but we both know
how this is going to end
I'll run to beg you stop
but I'm too late
as I see the gun drop
I'll find your body on the ground
with blood scattered
I touch your face
so serene, so cold
I will not leave your story untold
for this was your disastrous escape.
I've Done What I CanYou’ll be able to see one day
I’ll never lose my faith in you
If there’s something you want to say
You know just what to do
I’ll be waiting here for your voice
I've already done what I can for now
But it’s up to you to make the choice
You’re the only one that knows how
No matter how dark the night
There is nothing to fear
There’s no need to fight
The dawn is already here
Scars decorate my body
Evidence of a troubled past
If only I knew back then
How long scars truly last
Needles and syringes
All have touched my skin
If I had known the consequences
I wouldn’t have done it back then
My body craved the numbness
My lips needed to touch the bottle
An addiction so toxic
It turns you hostile
Beaten into submission
My self-worth forever non-existent
If only I knew how to work my voice
If only I kept my distant
I wrapped the lips around the poison
And shoved it in my lungs
And now I know the danger
Of starting a deadly habit so young
Always searching but never finding
What is it I’m looking for
If only I had known
It was right behind the door
StayCan we go back to the good times?
Forgive me for all of my past crimes?
Can we just be happy like when you were here?
The joy we had, reuniting after a year.
The time since you went back has been our loves bane.
Every single day apart, I feel your affection wane.
Our hearts were once connected by a frozen ocean.
But the summer has come, and burned away your emotion.
I hate how I can reflect on these past three years.
And discover that I could have prevented all of our tears.
If I could fix it all by traveling through time and space.
I would catch every tear that has ever trailed down your beautiful face.
I would cradle your heart as I sowed it back together.
And I would do all that I could to make you smile forever.
But we live in the real world, not a fairy tale.
And my mission to keep you happy, I did fail.
It's crazy how quickly my halo turned into horns.
My love went from soft and sweet, to a field of thorns.
Only now do I see how my sins have made your heart sway.
But I won't stop
Gentle CreatureShe sways and swoons
Around her love blooms
Twirling and swirling
Around and about in the rain
The rain falls still, drop after drop
And she's not going to stop
The rains essence, it's hidden flow
Is making her golden light grow
Her eyes hold the universe
Half a gift and half a curse
Her dress is painted with galaxies
Eyes closed tight because the heart sees
Deep purples and rich blues
Shiny, red shoes
Adorn her gentle feet
That move gently and sweet
There's not a need for a shield
Or a reason to wield
An umbrella for protection
Because there's just simple affection
It surrounds her like a soft glowing mist
For she's one of those that have been kissed
Gently on the forehead by a Muse or two
So she'll be safe even when she's blue
Because she thrives amidst emotion
Surviving in the iciest, most stormy ocean
Blood strong with inspiration
She is endowed with the gift of creation