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A Place To Feel Safe
Roxanne felt warm and comforted here. It felt like the room full of high school dreams and nightmares; scenes of pride, torment, and hormonal confusion. Her best friend had died here, and spent his immortal days in this filthy place. The sink was encrusted with grime, and a single rusted water droplet constantly hung from the lip of the faucet. The image was like a bloodstained tear, maybe a tear he had cried long ago, when the tormentors had pummeled him to death in the school grounds. In this place of death, Roxanne felt safe.
A Rival Appears!
Gary turned around, his heart pounding his chest. His heart was supposed to give him life, now it was pounding as if to wrench itself from his body and murder him in a bath of warm blood. His rival approached. Ash. It was fear that caused Gary to react the way he did to each of Ashís challenges. Arrogance, brought on by the rush of adrenaline, forced Gary to focus and withdraw a Pokeball from his knapsack. ďYou ready to battle me, Ass?Ē he screamed. When Ashís eyes filled with fear, Gary knew heíd hit the mark.
He abandoned me for the dull, green, false glow of money. The boy was a materialistic thinker, and any possession in the world, no matter how intrinsically worthless, meant far more to him than love. My love could have lasted him a lifetime. The physical attraction between us could have lasted far longer than anything money could buy, even though in the end physical attraction and sex is like money. Nothing can fill you up spiritually like love can, and the boy failed to understand that. His blood was tarnished green with the lust for everything of this world.
Above The Thunder
Above the thunder, in the atmosphere, lies God. Or the unmoved mover, if youíre into philosophy. God is the person who rules the world. It may seem that sometimes he has no authority, but that viewpoint is wrong. The Lord has control over what everyone does, and he knows every move we will make in our lives. He rests above the thunder, controlling the world, and choosing his disciples and followers before they are born. We have no control and God has all the controlÖ it may seem evil, but the Lord controls us to help us.
The first thing I think of when I hear that word is absolute zero. In the book Iím reading, Sarahís Window, one of the characters is a scientist, and heís trying to get to absolute zero. Iím only about ten pages into the book, so I donít know if he and his fellow scientists are succeeding or not, but whatever. Why should I care about the world of fictional characters, when there is so much going on in real life that needs attention? There is absolute war, absolute hunger, and absolute poverty all around the globe. Go help out!
Ace of Hearts
The ace of hearts gets on my nerves, as all cards do. Heís sitting there on the screen, one of the last cards to go into home base when Iím finishing up Solitaire. And after I shut down my computer and close my eyes to sleep, I see the ace of hearts and all his other black and red brothers and sisters (and their slaves who are only numbers) converge upon my brain in my sleep. Black and white on red and white, all through the night, I see them in my dreams, powerless to stop it.
The sex is an ache. It is something humanity should try to resist, because sex runs our lives. Sex and sexuality are our reasons for being on this planet, but we should curb the impulse to have sex whenever we can. I have such a negative attitude toward sex because it is so abused in our culture today. Sex is not sacred any longer; itís not held as something secret between a married couple. I wish sex was taboo; something never discussed in daily conversation. Itís very personal. Maybe I have these strange views because I am a virgin.
I hate addictions. I do not think there is such a thing as a good addiction. Godís way is for us to have everything in moderation, and addiction is the opposite of that ideal. Addiction is something you canít have enough of. Addiction is something closely related to sin, if not sin itself. My addiction is the Internet. I know it is useful and everything, but I am addicted. I cannot go a day without it, and itís hard to put it in moderation. Iím asking God for help on this, and heís giving me guidance slowly and surely.
Addicted To Your Touch
I think he is addicted to my touch. Whenever I try and calm him down, I have to touch him. Iím not good with words in those circumstances, so I try and reach out and caress his cheek or his neck. Maybe thatís the woman in me that urges me to do thatÖ I donít normally like all that touchy-feely stuff. I donít care about it as long as it makes him feel better. He admits that it does. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy and feel loved; the way I feel.
Is this ďaddressĒ as in where someone lives, or is this ďaddressĒ as in he addressed the crowd? It could be either one. I am never going to give one certain guy my address because Iím afraid heís a creep and a stalker. This goes back to what I was saying about creeps. I donít know if I said it here, but Iíll say it. Iím scared to death of meeting creepy guys and not finding out that theyíre creeps until itís too late. My cousin met a creep, and he murdered her. I am so afraid of that.
All good little Catholic girls should adore Mary. She is forever a virgin, eternally without sin. So she is sin sin, technically. When you are born with sin, it is practically impossible to remain a virgin, especially if you have a boyfriend. I may not be the stereotypical perfect little Catholic schoolgirl anymore, but I am a proud virgin. I want to stay that way for quite some time, until I get married to the Right One. In a way, I do want to be like an innocent little girl and imitate the sinless one, our loving mother Mary.
Adrenaline is a hormone, secreted when youíre in dangerÖ I donít think it has to necessarily be danger, howeverÖ getting angry or incensed, such as in road rage, can also give you an adrenaline rush. There are people who are so-called ďadrenaline junkiesĒ, because they do crazy things just to get that rush of adrenaline. Itís supposed to be like a drug for them, and they keep doing crazier and crazier things to get that rush, and eventually they just die out of sheer stupidity. I donít call people like that brave when all they want is the ďhighĒ.
I had to do a speech in my Public Speaking class about subliminal advertising. Advertisements are supposed to be eye-catching so they convince you to buy the product. Ads on the Internet are the most annoying, because they are about supposedly free things. Like those games that come up on the top of the screen and the game is so easy, and once you win it you get this stupid offer with fine print. I know people who actually play those gamesÖ itís so stupid. Thereís another advertisement where you have to answer a question about celebrities. Equally annoying.
There is no such thing as afterglow with one of my clients. He finishes ďloving meĒ, then he throws some money on the bed, gets into his clothes and leaves me with my mouth hanging open. Iím not supposed to love him, but I think I do. Heís so spontaneous, and I love spontaneity in all my lovers. He would come up to my bedroom for no reason, and love me, then he leaves. In all the time Iíve known him, he hasnít spoken more than three words. The mystery of him keeps dragging me back, but heís dangerous.
I moved against temptation like swimming through molasses; very slowly. I am not a moral person by any means. I have morals, but in words only, not action. I fail to act on my good morals, and I might as well not have any at all. The farther I move from temptation , the happier I will be. The more allies who will help me in the fight against temptation, the better off Iíll be. Temptation lives under the bed; itís called lust, and itís red and scaly. Thatís all I know about its physical properties and conditions.
The word reminds me of ghosts. Maybe because the ďgĒ and the ďhĒ are so close together. I have to look it up in a dictionary because Iím not sure of the exact definition. It basically means ďshockedĒ. So I guess you could be aghast if you happened to meet a ghost. Itís not a word I use often, and I should try to insert it into my vocabulary more often. The English language has so many words, yet we keep using the same ones over and over, especially those four lettered ones. I want to memorize the dictionary.
Agony of Defeat
Sophitia, the warrior princess matriarch, sunk to her knees in the agony of defeat. Her ghostly white hair fell around her face like a curtain to hide the sadness and anguish she felt. A clunking sound was heard as her sword fell from her hand to the floor of the arena. ďMother! I failed you!Ē Sophitia cried to the heavens, her throaty voice strained with anxiety. ďI have failed to defeat your most hated foe, the dragon patriarch!Ē The dragon himself stood over her, his wide mouth grinning as he prepared to pierce her with his sword.
I have only had a little bit of alcohol in my life; the wine from Communion, and some vodka that was in a chocolate. I had no idea there was alcohol in that chocolate, I swear. I just bit into it and it was freaking gross. I donít even like the smell of alcohol, and when I get to the legal drinking age, I wonít even drink. Maybe a glass of wine or so, but never beer or vodka. Those two are just plain sickening. I have also had alcohol in cooking, but that doesnít really count for much.
All That I Have
From a materialistic standpoint, I donít have that much. Iím only nineteen so I donít have very many talents either, and the ones I have are not developed well enough yet. All I have is a loving family, a stressed-out boyfriend, nonexistent girl friends, and a crazy cat I nicknamed Guts. Iím grateful for what I have; my talents, my success in school, and the people in my life. I want to be more grateful to God for what I have, but Iím not sure what exactly I can do for him to make everything good.
All That Lives Must Die
This sounds like a cool part title for my story idea. Itís only an idea because I havenít actually started writing it yet; itís been cooking in my head for about six months now. I have written maybe about three pages, but Iím not sure thatís how I want the story to go yet. The ideas are all jumbled around and hopefully I can find a way to organize them so I get a decent plot and characters, especially plot. The next ďbookĒ I write needs to be more driven by plot than by characters.
Allergic To Stupid
It sounds like something on one of those sassy keychains, or on one of those Happy Bunny accessories. I canít stand Happy Bunny. I hate him. Or her. Or it. Whatever the hell that damn thing is, I canít stand it. The motto should be: Happy Bunny: Teaching Girls How To Be Smartasses Since 2003. Or whenever the damn thing first started appearing. Jim Benton should start doing something better with his time. I donít want to hear about what a pessimistic cartoon rabbit has to say. Itís for immature little teenage girls with serious poseur tendencies.
A few friends of mine have allergies to pollen. Iím lucky I donít because it sounds as if it is a constant, never ending cold. I see my poor friends always sniffling and sneezing at a certain time of the year, and they take allergy medications that donít seem to have any effect. Iím glad the only periodic affliction I have is PMS, and not allergies. I have a neuromuscular problem with my leg, but thatís not really that big of an issue. I try to ignore it and pray that it will not have any affect on me.
Almost Isnít Good Enough
ďThe only way is all the way.Ē Thatís a lyric from Slipknot that would answer the prompt. I forget what song it comes from, but itís not really that important. I think almost is good enough in certain circumstances; like in school, when you try very hard to do well and the most you can get is an 84. Even when you studied your ass off, the best you can get is an 84Ö almost is just fine in that case. In seventh grade, I was afflicted with the Curse of the 84s. Damn those 84s.
It is almost paradise, except for one thing. My fiancť is locked in time. He acts like heís five years old, and I know exactly why. I donít know why he acts five, but I do know that I picked him because of that youth. Itís a self-fulfilling prophecy, going back to when I was five, and when I lost my young love. It is psychological determinism; I was predestined to choose my fiancť because of what had happened when I was a small child. I could detail the entire incident, but I will not do it here.
I want to be left alone forever. I decided yesterday (this is really going to piss him off) that my new goal in life is to be single and die a virgin. I am officially sick of guys because I found out that they are all the same! I have this propensity to attract assholes and that has never really changed. There are only a few guys that Iíve ever loved that havenít been assholes, and they were the ones who didnít love me back. Iím done with love, lust, and relationships and I doubt Iím ever going back.
Alone in the Rain
I am alone in the rain right now, so this is accurate. For me, a thunderstorm and the rain that accompanied it used to symbolize safety. Now Iím not sure what it means. Iím still waiting for an answer to all the questions I put out for God on the night of March 5 2004. I thought I had my answer six months later, but now Iím not so sure. Times are getting more and more difficult for us, and we are falling. I pray to the Lord with a renewed spirit, that he may help.
Altar For Tribute
This sounds like a death metal band. Speaking of death metal, I am badly missing my music. I gave up listening for Lent, the same as I do every year. The interesting thing is that during Lent, I dream about music since I have given it up. I wake up with a song stuck in my head, or I have dreams that I am singing one of my favorite songs in front of an audience. The latest song I woke up with was ďIíll BeĒ by Edwin McCain. I think the song is a bit too mushy.
Always and Forever
AAF. Thatís what it says on the charm bracelet my boyfriend gave me. Itís a silver heart with the words ďJames & Maggie 9/7/04 AAFĒ. Part of me hopes we will stay together forever, and the other part of me believes the relationship is doomed. I know I read too far into statistics of young marriages today, and I know I should be listening to God rather than numbers and science. Who knows? Maybe Jamie and I will really make it and become husband and wife; always and forever. I can only pray it will be true.
Itís a fancy word for ďhornyĒ. I donít use the word, because why beat around the bush? Just say, ďIím hornyĒ, not ďIím feeling amorousĒ. It just sounds better. I am not feeling amorous. Love is something I have made into a science. I poked a hole in love and all the pleasure and happiness in it just leaked right out, like air from a tire. Love is deflated in my mind. I donít know if I believe in it anymore. I know for certain that I no longer believe in Prince Charming. He is a product of legend.
The Tip Jar