Ma album drops next sursday, yall buiscuit-heads!

(Done all exams!!!!!!)

*BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM*

(sounds of me hitting my head against the table)

THE HOLLOW MEN
T.S. Elliot

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have ( Read more... )

Speak,

talk all day and recieve your due silence

you have nothing to say as have I

I like you have cut my chances,

pray for a second chance to prove yourself

"we all live in shades of grey, black and white bleed when cut and form our reality"

In other news:

man oh man, what do I do about THAT....

...Pierson knows what it is I assume, and to be honest, I need all the help I can get with this.

*sigh* im so laaaaame!

...the party was great though :P

ahhhhhh, this is the shortest haricut I have gotten since grade 8 :(

it will take some getting used to im afraid...

err, the subject should be called "flora"

...im the fauna...

I bought another plant today!

its an Ivy and I love it so...

...next order of buisness, getting pots for all of them

A couple people brought something to my attention. I just want to make it clear that whever I post a poem, if it doesnt have the writer named, I wrote it. Just making sure everyone knows that

:P

*Edit*

this goes for stories too

What Scribes a Mountian Makes

Ah, what scribes the mountain makes
stretched in noon, and bathed in light
halos of clouds, lilting or'head
shadowed and proud in easy watch,
of glorious day, for town and valleys.

But alas, this day is not so,
to the worried, weighed down
by their own hands, as they smithed chains
wound round on their flesh, and fusing to bone ( Read more... )