hmmmmmmmmmm
feel like saying something, but i have nothing to say at all.
I'm taking a break from blogger. Not that i'm dedicated at the moment, just need a rest.
keep it real as you fucking want, cheers.

[note: this post has been edited to remove typos that may cause the author to seem illiterate]

Good evenik my pretties. Velkome to my lair. Mine muter needz ze compu-twer, zo e must be oof. Righting vit an accent ist sehr difficult. (oops i dropped a german word in there...) 'Ave a good night, and don't vorget to lock ze doors.

"Delicious like murder, one step and you're further than you could admit" ('Beautiful Secrets' - Sarah Blasko)

In an attempt to appear HTML savvy, i've added links again. horray. but I'll think i'll keep it to other good blogs that are around. and it might motivate me to explore this wonderful world of blogger that I so often take for granted, and have long taken for granted. Well check out my archives, thats a lot of archives to have. I have a somewhat motherly pride for this blog, and I didn't have to go through five hours of labour or anything. So links shall be updated regulary, hopefully. *grins*
peace out

seven

haha i forgot that i hadn't written "seven". they weren't that special anyway, but anyway. here, seventeen days after i said it would have appeared, it is.

" run run run run run run run run run run run run run" Chris panted the word with every stride, "run, keep up the pace, run, feel your heart race, run, you've gotta keep going, run, keep the blood flowing, run, run, run" His feet slapped the footpath and propelled him forward, taking him further and futher towards his 48th lap. Past ladies with pushers, past teenage girls decked out in fitness gear jogging in groups and laughing, past the old man and his wife feeding the ducks, past the floral clock, past a group of kids climbing (and falling out of) trees, he ran. He often wondered what would happen if he stopped now, if he could stop now. But he had to reach 50 laps, he had to. It wasn't a life or death situation, no one was chasing him. But if he stumbled and fell now, he knew his spirit would be crushed and he would never run again. In his mine it was the decider between his ambition to run in the olympics or just settle down at a desk job. Although he would never be able to be happy or content with the latter, he saw it as the only other option.
He passed the marker tree. One more lap, one more and I'm there. five hundred more metres, seven hundred strides, twenty-three trees and i'm there, he thought.
A pain rippled along his left calf and stiked at his knee. He flinched, and stumbled a little, but did not fall nor drop his mind set, he was going to do this. Every landing on his left foot clentched his muscles with agonising torment. His eyes swelled with tears. Four more trees, now just three.
Searing heat burned at his calf, his knee stiffened and in one horrific moment, his leg gave way. He didn't skip, he didn't stumble, he didn't skid, he bounced. It was amazing that such momentum could have been stopped with his impact on the concrete footpath. He looked up wearily, his face was scratched and he had twigs in his hair. There, stretching tall above him was the marker tree. He reached out his hand and touched it, feeling a warm, satisfied feeling spread from his hand. I made it, he thought smiling to himself.
"Oh my god are you okay?" A young guy rushed over to him.
"Yeah thanks," chris replied, accepting the young man's hand to lever himself up, "i'm better than I've even been"

(i was going to go on with chris needed to go to hospital because he had torn a ligament in his leg, forcing him to give up running forever. But happy endings are much more... happy. peace out people)

let me swing in the breeze
as i hang from this tree
and cover your eyes
you don't need to see
run around like a maniac
with a stick twice your size
burst me open with blind force
and devour my insides
now if i was a pinata
this scene would be alright
but it's seems i'm still human
with this dream that haunts my night...

SIX

sometimes i wonder whether it is worth it. whether it's worth anything at all. for there to be worth, there has to be someone, something, to value it. but if nothing is able to value it, then it's worth is unknown, it's value is guessed at, and second-guessed and soon no one cares anymore. sometimes i think that people have stopped caring about me. maybe i once was valued, worthy of space and time. but not anymore. and so now i drift. away on clouds of grey and skies of black with stars of crystal spotted every second millimetre. this is no home for me. it deserves much more than a worthless child. you may say priceless, but you would be wrong.
signed, Jade d'Arte

FIVE

Andrew picked up the note that lay on his front porch.

good morning andrew. how are you today? i hope you're well because i feel like absolute shit. isn't that great? i reakon that's what you're thinking right now, standing on your front porch with your baggy tracksuit pants that you sleep in slipping down to reveil your boxer shorts. a puzzled look apon your face. isn't it funny? i think so. why did you kill him? he was the best friend i ever had an dyou took him away from me. why? well i guess your reasons don't matter now anyway, they wouldn't change a thing. i hate you, i guess you would have understood that by now, but i don't know if you're clever enough to not look up...

with his natural human curiousity, he looked up and saw the last thing he would ever see.
Andrew woke up blind in a world he didn't know, unsure of everything around him, scared witless.

FOUR

"you know it will hurt yeah?"
"yeah"
"okay, on the count of three. One, two... THREE"
"OW!!! owowowowowowowowowow!!! did you have to do it so hard? ahhh it stings!"
"oh come on, you baby, now you'll have perfectly smooth legs"
"after we've finished, and gotten rid of this waxy gunk. it looks like my legs are oozing out blue pus. why did it have to be blue?"
"so we know that it isn't coming from inside your body, hahaha. nah i dunno, it is kinda a gross colour."
"atleast it's better than the yellow one, then in would have looked like pus."
"eww. okay, we'll do another one"
"oh, can't i just have this patch done?"
"hahaha, are you serious? we're only doing you're lower leg, and now you want just a patch of smoothness? you're commited now"
"oh ok"
"haha, one, two, THREE!"
"Owowowowow! ooowww! you're getting pleasure out of this aren't you?"
"haha, i sure am"