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because love is a lesson in trial and errorI wish I had the words to tell you what I mean. I used to store sentences between my breaths – things that I couldn’t say at the moment, but wanted to remember. Now I can barely string together enough nouns and verbs to make you understand exactly what you mean to me. And I’m afraid.

I’m afraid that if I can’t get it together fast enough I’ll lose you. It’s like you're water slipping through my fingers and I’m not quick enough to chase you through the currents. I know enough to know that you’re wild and free in a way that I’ll never be and maybe I’m jealous of that. Or maybe I
Futuro-Mamá esa chica se parece mucho a la tía Isabella -cuando escucho decir esto a Amanda, dirigiéndose a la Candace del futuro, una sola idea salta en mi cabeza haciendo eco e inevitablemente tengo que decirla en voz alta.
-Oíste eso Candace, voy a casarme con Phineas!
-O Ferb -me responde ella dejando mi mente en blanco.
Dirijo mi vista al peliverde y este me giña un ojo mientras hace un gesto con su mano señalándome. Bueno lo que dice Candace es verdad, para ser tía de Amanda tendría que casarme con Phineas o... Ferb.
Miro fijamente al chico frente a mí y de pronto todo desa
She was distant.Her emotions sat on the ceiling.
LindaI’m not what you would call a special woman - I live in a small town, with my husband, have an ordinary job and live an ordinary wife.  In one way, however, I guess you could say I have an extraordinary life - because every midsummer’s day, I seem to get robbed in my own house.  I don’t know what I do to deserve it, but that’s what happens.

I still remember the first year it happened - we had just moved into the house, with my daughter who was then about twelve, and she had gone to a friend’s house while my husband was out to work.  I was taking the day off, doing some things around the house, and in those days
Music Shuffle (Kyrie)Cage the Elephant – “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked”
      The sun finally sank below the horizon. Under the cover of a moonless darkness, the proxies slipped stealthily between the trees. The densely packed forest offered excellent protection from peering eyes, and so familiar were they with the many pitfalls and snaring brambles that they glided along effortlessly.
       Masky took the lead, guiding his two charges along toward the night’s goal. Hoodie followed at a short distance, his video camera fully charged and stocked with a fresh tape. Close beside him was Kyrie, bringing up the rear and making sure the
they marked me blue and yellow, mama.between graffitied walls and a lone, chipped sink, they watched me curl in upon myself and combust. it was the only way i knew of to stop the swirling in my hips and heels.
a week later i found emma, the smallest of the vultures, kneeling at my altar. and with her wing-bones hunching and heaving, she mimicked my combustion.
but her eyes were violet when she saw me. violet and brimming with the emptiness of her heels. and i knew. i knew that this could not hold her the way it held me. 
and mama, that hurt more than anything. her heels were empty, mama. empty. empty. empty. the way mine should have been, if only you had kept papa away.
if only you had kept away the first vulture i had ever know. if only, mama. if only.
The Blood on Our HandsBut it feels so good.

To touch the open slit is pleasurable beyond belief. Of all of my fantasies, it was never conceivable that I wanted this. It was never that I felt so satisfied drenched in the afterglow of my adrenaline-bred homicide.

The swooping curdling in my veins remains beyond the last breath of him. It feels like I need more, like the blood on my hands isn't enough to slake the drought in my bones that vengeance has brought. My fingertips touch at the open gash in the left-center of his chest, swimming there with dainty strokes in the fresh, bubbling blood.

What have I done...? And why do I need more? Why does it feel like the
Sweet Nothings'if i could, i would devour you. i would eat you whole, consume you mind, body, and soul. because i am a selfish person. i want you all to myself. no one else may have you.'   he said to her, as they lay tangled in each other.
her reply came with a sleepy smile.
'there is a part of my mind which understands the intended romance in your statement. that part is wooed by it. there is also a part which insists upon my realizing the reality, the literal. you, my dear, are a cannibal.'
he placed a kiss on her head.
'well, we'll have to work hard then, to make sure that you are only wooed. we will make you want to be eaten. we will make it so that part of your mind which is literal, is quiet, so when i whisper sweet nothings into your ears, you are completely swept away. lifted off your feet by my obvious romantic intention.'
Smoke-stacked LungsLighting her cigarette, Mara watched the smoke trail up into the sky and block the blue the storm clouds couldn’t reach. She sucked in the unfiltered ash, closed her eyes, and marveled at the warmth that traveled down into her chest. The ash held her closer than anyone in the city had. She smiled, cracking open her eyes, but all that greeted her was wind blowing out the embers of her cigarette as tar slithered down her throat. She coughed, crushing the cigarette on the dashboard. She started her black Ford’s ignition, and watched the exhaust lingering around the car before the wind carried it away. With goose bumps, Mara sped onto
The ThunderstormI picked up the new dial phone I barely used to call her father. Thunder roared as the rain completely drenched my window. I bit my lip and my heart raced as I picked up a signal. The dial rang for awhile, and I was almost a little worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of him. However, at the last minute, I heard a deep, cheerful voice from the other end.
"Hello?"
"Hello, sir. This is Mr. Rob MacLachlan, CEO of the Fitzpatrick Company. I'm just calling to say that your daughter might have to spend the night, here."
There was a dreadful pause on the phone.
"Pardon?"
"Have you listened to the radio, recently?"
"Nah, we can't 'ford a telephon
THE SADS'Why did you have to go and die? God DAMMIT Ryann' Ray thought as he sat on the very edge of the beach, leaning against a half-crumbled wall covered in grafiti. 'I loved you, why did you have to go and be so stupid?' He picked up a piece of the fallen concrete and chucked it in the direction of the ocean. Since Ryann's death, now several months ago, Ray had self-destructed and had tried to push everyone away, he'd lost most of the 'friends' he'd made, but he hadn't managed to shake City yet, and Mommy still annoyed him from time to time.

Fucking Mommy and her perfect life. He couldn't stand how happy she'd become, and a small part of him wis
I need you home...the ceiling's dirty.Pairing: Phan/Anti-Phan??

Genre: Angst

Rating: 12+??

Warning: Possibly triggering

Disclaimer: I do not own Dan or Phil (sadly). This never happened and is purely fictional.

Summary: Dan's lost. He doesn't know how long it's been. He needs someone to save him.

~

I don’t know how long it’s been. 3 days? 2 weeks? 5 months? I can’t remember the last time I got up from his bed. It smells just like him, vanilla and raspberries - it’s like he’s still here. But he’s not.

He left a long, long time ago. We’d been arguing for a while, I’d said - well more like shouted - some mean things, he’d
The problem with Elia is thatshe could have been a violin.
The Raven and The Wolf You said you wanted to stay and listen to my whispers but I told you it's too late (early) and you need sleep.

I held you and whispered poetry into your hair as you fell asleep. I listened to the way your heart beat and it seemed to say one word; home, home, home. The rise and fall of your chest soothed me more than any drug ever could.

I used to say I didn't believe in love but as I stared at your sleeping face, traced the contours and creases - the blemishes and scars, I couldn't help but think that maybe ... Just maybe this was it.

I stroked your autumn-kissed hair and rested my cheek against your chest. I lay there and thought, not fo
RecursionRecursion

Day 12

I hate those infernal hounds.

I can hear them approaching. I regret now that I have not walled off this little corner of the forest that I have chosen to call my own. I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak from the venom of those spiders. I fear I have just enough time to fashion a spear before they come for me.

Wilson's hands shook as he read the words in the dying firelight. The darkness pressed in against him all around, crawling inward as the fire sputtered.

Those were the last words on the page. Dark spots marred the edges of the papyrus, dried deep into the reeds. A thick swipe of brown streaked along the bottom as
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More from ~MegumiTierana

Hurts I got married my senior year of high school. We were in love, unable to separate ourselves from each other. We were the only ones in each other's world.
Then one day, my love came home, looked at me and said, "I'm leaving, it's over."
My world came crashing down.
There was another love in my love's heart, no room left for me. How could this have happened? What did I do wrong? Was this my fault? Who was to blame for this?
I was told to move out by the end of the week.
How could the love of my life do this me?

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February 28, 2012
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Letter

:iconmegumitierana:

Personal entry
and place holder
:iconmegumitierana:
Day 57 - Letter

sorry folks, another personal entry
:(
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