?

Log in

I DON'T WANNA FALL AWAY FROM YOU [entries|friends|calendar]
hugs not drugs <X

[ website | he's bored and i'm not a boy ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[21 Dec 2005|12:30pm]
As of 11:45 a.m., I have officially turned in all my required credits.

Before = 18
After = 26

Therefore, Kera::Graduation as Brad::Angelina. We're doing each other.

[resists urge to vomit nervously]

I don't think I've ever felt this sort of accomplishment and nervousness combined. My stomach is pissed off at me big time. I feel like such a traitor to food. And sleep. Oh, sleep. How I've missed thee.

Furthermore, I move into my dorm on the 3rd which is so close that the possibility of peeing in my pants with excitment actually seems like a good idea. Aaanticipaa-aation is making me wait. ♥

Since my life is technically taking off, I hope that I will have more time to write.

Ha.



Ps. For my last day of high school, I decided to dress up. So I'm wearing a pink & white scarf that could very well be a boa, and my alex!glasses. Teh Alex Cabot look of haaaaawt.

SUMMARY: Graduated. Hungry. Exhausted. Excited. Cute.

Edit:
the proof of Teh Alex LookCollapse )
3 CMNT

F. O. [06 Dec 2005|03:42pm]
F-locked everything. Happy holidays.
1 CMNT

Seeing is not always believing [12 Oct 2004|02:54pm]


SeeCollapse )

FaithCollapse )
CMNT

[27 Sep 2004|01:47am]
I really shouldn't be allowed to think when I'm awake. apologies for grammar and whatnot.


identificationCollapse )
1 CMNT

Comfort [12 Sep 2004|09:21pm]
They say there's a reason for everything. That's why she tries. Tomorrow she'll wake up and go to work and maybe drop by the old ADA's office just because she thinks that a long time ago she might have left something there. Maybe it was her expensive pen. Maybe it was her expensive lacy underwear that she can't find anywhere anymore.

If there's a reason for everything then maybe walking on the sidewalk where her old friend was shot would persuade the reason to smack her in the face. Or shoot her in the shoulder. She doesn't think she'd care either way, just that she found reasoning and that it made sense.

She used to believe that you made your own fate, but somehow she can't find it in herself to rely on that anymore. If it had been true, then she should have been the one to lose her body but not her soul. She thinks that fate must have been in a pretty shitty mood when it took Alex; what kind of fucker throws the mistakes of a person's past onto the person's lover? Two nights and four hours ago she realized that she didn't care any longer. Now she's not sure if she's numb or drunk.

She has a random sock on top of her dresser. It doesn't fit her. Her feet are too damn long and wide to fit into that sucker. Every night she tries to put it on and every night she fails. In the back of her mind, she thinks that once she can accomplish the impossible then the impossibility of return that lingers around her soul will become possible. She thinks this, and even though it makes little sense, it's comforting.

And if you can't find happiness, then at least find a comfortable bed to sleep in.
1 CMNT

[22 Jul 2004|12:16pm]
I discovered that I write my least shit-smelling stuff when I'm up in the midget hours of the morning. So I've been awake now for 27 hours and it has spawned three very...interesting...material. 48 hours may produce more. Beware.

--

149 words - Reverence
...as if it weren't impossible and futileCollapse )

110 words - Disjointed

I have no excuse for this one. It was the first one I wrote, and that happened at 8 p.m. So apologies beforehand.

...a loss of stabilityCollapse )

65 words - Eventually

...pretend her hand is your handCollapse )
6 CMNT

Christ. I hate writing. [06 Jun 2004|03:43pm]
I speak the truth, and she looks at me as if I’ve taken away her reason to live. Feelings of remorse and anger boil in my throat, clutching desperately at my tongue to keep from sliding back to where I want them. My fingers curl into my palms and rest there, cool, aching, dripping with mistakes.

Her mouth opens once, twice, like she’s trying to tell me something that’s forbidden, that’s cruel, that’s…releasing. My feet hit the floor.

“Just go.”

And she does, silently, stopping only to slip on her shoes and I watch as her arms move to button her shirt. Her body slips around the doorframe, sliding smoothly through the long hallway. I drink in her curves, her sway, her incomprehensible beauty and I try not to choke on it. This is my last glimpse of the person I once revered; I will no longer have to hold my breath in her presence and pretend to be strong. I have seen the fragility behind the strength and it has weakened my own perceptions of perfection. My throat clenches around rising vomit.

From the next room, I hear the clicks of the locks being opened, then the small woosh of air as the door gives into her pressure. The fact that her fingers left evidence of her arrival, of her confession, of her departure makes my stomach turn. She was here, suddenly, and now she’s not and I want to kill her. How dare she disturb this life I’ve built? What right does she have to take everything I’ve ever found solace in and destroy it with one fucking admission of love?

I remember her nervous smile as I sit on the bed again, drained, exhausted with my efforts not to go beyond what limits were already broken. I remember, and it fucks with my mind.

The knock. I have to talk to you… Walking to the couch. Sitting. Seeing her without her façade of calm. There are things… Knowing. Knowing before she say it. Knowing and wanting so bad, so urgently. I’ve never known how to tell you…I know it’s so wrong… And then her lips against mine, expressing a little more than she could ever put into words. Clothes miraculously falling open. Feet traveling and suddenly my back on the bed and I see her eyes searching mine with a vulnerability unknown to me before this moment. My fingers sliding away from her heat, my mouth unable to form words to tell her why. Her face falling, plunging into confusion and sadness and that constant weariness she always wears. I tell her nothing. I’m sorry, I…

This can never… I can’t say it. Just go.

I stand and float towards the door, staring at the place where her fingers must have touched. She was here, and I know why and I almost let her have it. I almost gave it to her. She was searching in me for a burning solace she hadn’t found anywhere else in her life. She had hoped I would be the one to make the nightmares go away, that I could soothe the torn and raw part of her over-worked soul. I can’t love those who are incapable of loving me back.

On that bed, I saw the cracks around her body, the small portion of herself that she’d only exposed to few people. I saw how breakable she was and I knew she couldn’t have me.
3 CMNT

[06 May 2004|09:22am]
I have waaay too much time on my hands.

See, I've been thinking. About Olivia. And how *lonely* her life is.Collapse )

Don't read that unless you want a rambling of emotion. *rubs temples*
CMNT

[19 Apr 2004|03:17pm]
My old forum is being erased, so I'm posting these Charmed one-parters on here for safe-keeping. They reek of Gary Stu's and weird plot lines and stuff, so unless you have a strong heart, don't read.

GoneCollapse )

DarksideCollapse )

SaneCollapse )

If I couldCollapse )

What did I miss?Collapse )

PinkCollapse )

Of a FlameCollapse )
4 CMNT

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]