That I'm going to use this blog less. I found that tumblr has 'prettier' themes, and I think it's really easy to use. Though I'll most likely use this for...edgier(?) posts, just because I have some people on there that I would prefer didn't know everything about me.
The Cave
That's the link...check it out, and follow me! ;D
<3 Mal
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Then do it again.
A Polaroid dream
Nightmarenegatives develop on the screen
We sit back andwaitfor the government team
Criticizethey but who the fuck are we
The people wantpeacebut the leaders want war
Our neighbors don'tspeak, peek through the front door
Friday, October 8, 2010
The plot...
...is a little different than I thought it would be, but probably for the better. The first one was dry, and unoriginal...this one is fun and interesting. Though the "twist" ending is common among mystery/thrillers, I think it will be surprising for the readers. (At least I hope)
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Thistle and Weeds (Bottoms up, those little yellow pills, and the burning fire...Part 3)
The burning fire.
How can you look at me and think I'm normal? All I see is a mess ready to fall apart at any second. Those burns on my wrist, the fading fake smile. Am I really that convincing that I don't need help? That everything's perfect and fine. I want, no, I need someone to just see through the happy facade and tell me that even though things aren't great right now, everything will be okay. I want someone to actually notice when my smile doesn't quite reach my eyes.
I've adapted. Only two scars on my wrist, only from...emergencies. I've found somewhere that doesn't scar. Unlike many others, I don't do it to draw attention to myself. The less people wonder, the better. I think that subconsciously I want at least someone to know, but I don't want it to be as easy as looking at my wrist. Any idiot could figure it out eventually, or at least make assumptions.
How can you look at me and think I'm normal? All I see is a mess ready to fall apart at any second. Those burns on my wrist, the fading fake smile. Am I really that convincing that I don't need help? That everything's perfect and fine. I want, no, I need someone to just see through the happy facade and tell me that even though things aren't great right now, everything will be okay. I want someone to actually notice when my smile doesn't quite reach my eyes.
I've adapted. Only two scars on my wrist, only from...emergencies. I've found somewhere that doesn't scar. Unlike many others, I don't do it to draw attention to myself. The less people wonder, the better. I think that subconsciously I want at least someone to know, but I don't want it to be as easy as looking at my wrist. Any idiot could figure it out eventually, or at least make assumptions.
Labor Day Parade
This was either the best risk I've ever taken in my life....or the worst mistake I've ever made....ever.
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