|04/11/2017 - One of these two clowns is finally working on the 100Words website update. Facelift back in motion. Really. Thanks for not giving up on us.||
March 8th, 2008
I am seventeen years old, and some of the biggest disappointments of my lives have been people. Perchance, this is the right time to allude to my age. I know, Iím merely a child, yet I find Iím drawn to the wiser. People my age sadden me. Concerned with naught, save partying. Drugs. Sex and drinking works its way into the equation somewhere too. They idolize these figureheads (I shanít name names) and I canít figure out why! I find I am too forward thinking for my generation. One such as myself can only hope perhaps, theyíll all wake up.
November 13th, 2009
Each time I reorganise my closet, I would make a silent promise to myself to stop buying clothes for at least the next two years. Yet I find myself here again, fingers caressing the fabric of this T-shirt/shirt/jeans that seems, at this present moment, to have been tailored and made just for me alone. Another perfect fit, another unique design, another snip off my wallet. The sensible one in me screams, "It's gonna end up in your (growing) pile of 'What was I thinking?!'" but all I could hear was the shop assistant asking, "Cash or credit?"
August 5th, 2008
I came across 100 words many months ago, but couldnít get started for fear of running out of words. When I donít write, this fear plagues me. I am convinced I have nothing to say. This is what stops me from attempting so many writing projects. I believe that, no matter how many ideas are usually swilling around in my mind, if I actually try to form them into a shape of some kind, they will suddenly dry up. Yet, in finally doing this exercise, I have discovered that the existence of some words seems to inspire the appearance of more.