Jorgi Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 we're nothing more than hopeless ***** woah, don't you dare to stop i met my maker at the corner shop he held my hand there the way he touched my hair the way he smiled as if to tell someone they did good yes. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 yes i've posted or yes ftw Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jorgi Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 ...both Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 ...both haha sorry i lose track.. i need to get writing again though. beats revising but i've only got 2 more exams left so expect some new stuff soon. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jorgi Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 ah 3 exams here... can't wait 'til they're over. anyway, good stuff, lookin' foward to it ! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 round of applause for all involvedthat was the most spectacular heartbreak i've ever seen and well i couldn't have done it without you take a bow and take a seat take away your attention from me settle down, settle in, i won't be here when you get home gather round and buy yourselves a drink and enjoy every last second you'll ever see i could've helped out an stepped in now step back settle down, settle in i won't be here when you get home drink up, drink it down your head'll hurt less without these memories drink up, fall down, fall down, i won't be here when you get home. reminds me of rihanna's take a bow.. but more beautiful. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Arya Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 I love it, Jorgi! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Natasha Posted June 12, 2008 Report Share Posted June 12, 2008 i love it too! gosh jorgi. yer still amazing. :] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jorgi Posted June 13, 2008 Report Share Posted June 13, 2008 Thaaankks 'nother one cause i'm bored, basically. and no, this one's not happy either; DEAL AVEC CE. we fell into this disaster damaged, and unafraid little did we know it all comes down to this as i scream, stop and walk away all i asked for was everything who's to say who stays disheartened, and disillusioned the little things were everything and all i knew but not enough to pause, think and turn around and search fr anything little did we know it all comes down to this little did we know it all breaks down with promises we never knew Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Defiance Posted June 13, 2008 Report Share Posted June 13, 2008 fuckin emo Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MarMaramore Posted June 13, 2008 Report Share Posted June 13, 2008 ^shut it alex. it's amazing. don't mind the twat boy. you rule jorgi. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 13, 2008 Report Share Posted June 13, 2008 i'm writing a book. as you do untitled, opening paragraph; for your eyes only. Untitled. Chapter 1. I stared at her from across the table. Breathing; 1, 2, 3.. She had that look about her, something that displayed fear and uncertainty but also a great deal of stupidity and contempt. Eyelids fluttering, she bit her bottom lip down hard, flushing a rosy pink through purple and when finally released a white not unlike the pallor of my own sickly skin. We're all the same when it boils down to human flesh. I remember all her ticks at this point, all things I meticulously noted down throughout the months and now, face to face I saw them at their best. I felt proud for a moment; proud that my compulsive, meticulous notation of human behaviour had finally been of benefit. I was smirking disgustingly inside, but on the outside I showed as much emotion as a psychotic sociopath having been arrested for the last of his brutal killings. After 9.26 minutes (I counted under my breath; she noticed) I lit a cigarette and she opened her mouth. Like a fish it just kept opening and closing, she looked incredulously dumb I thought as I continued to count my breaths, this time calculating the time it took to inhale and exhale the dense grey matter; clear it completely from my lungs. I don't smoke, except when the scene calls for it. At this precise moment in time I felt that the seedy bar, absent with any smouldering, husky female puffing on French cigarettes wasn't worth anyone's time, so I filled in for Miss Golightly and, lowering my vintage sunglasses down over my eyes, I broke the silence. "It's the anniversary, you know." I wasn't particularly sure if I even cared, but nothing else seemed to come to mind. "Of what?" I love that look of panic on a face; makes me feel more at ease. "John Lennon. He was shot 30 years today. Shame really." She blinked, eyes filling with pools of murky green. "It's over, you know. The test was positive." She countered. I paused, blew out the last cloud of smoke and stubbed out the cigarette. We sat for a moment in silence, mourning the loss. Her for the loss of innocence, loss of a life headed no where in particular. Me, for the loss of the last thing to make me feel real, and that was her perfection. From here on in, I decided to live in fantasy. After all, what was the point in living in reality when you could have your own overwrought battle royale of faith, love and disassociation everyday? Nice chap really, odd nose though I must admit, and quite a tragic dresser. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MarMaramore Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 ^Oh. My. Fish!!!!! I love it. MOREMOREMOREMORE! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
777 Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 I feel depressed, so I'll use it lol. I have my family, But I have no friends And you kids think you're sad But look at all the friends you have Or you had In my own history theres no one What was it I did wrong Maybe it's because I'm not cool Enough for you You knew, I liked you But you still shoved me away Wheres all the nice people Where did they go Because thats where I want to be Edit: this isn't for the forum, It's for the kids you see at the mall and school's teasing other kids. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MarMaramore Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 ^ that's very nice. I mean it's good. that's what I mean by nice. some people think it's "zinging" them Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
777 Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 ^ that's very nice.I mean it's good. that's what I mean by nice. some people think it's "zinging" them What is Zinging? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Echelonforever Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 Intro to something I'm currently writing.... My angel isn't perfect She is flawed in every way yet my life she seems to save everytime i hear her sing. anyone wanna guess who it's gonna be about?? I feel depressed' date=' so I'll use it lol. I have my family, But I have no friends And you kids think you're sad But look at all the friends you have Or you had In my own history theres no one What was it I did wrong Maybe it's because I'm not cool Enough for you You knew, I liked you But you still shoved me away Wheres all the nice people Where did they go Because thats where I want to be Edit: this isn't for the forum, It's for the kids you see at the mall and school's teasing other kids.[/quote'] I love this, it's so true! 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MarMaramore Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 What is Zinging? a zing/zinger/the act of zinging is joking or saying sarcastic words. In my house, my mum isn't very smart, so she doesn't get sarcasm, so I have to say "ZING!" after every sarcastic thing I say so she doesn't flip a biscuit! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
777 Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 a zing/zinger/the act of zinging is joking or saying sarcastic words. In my house, my mum isn't very smart, so she doesn't get sarcasm, so I have to say "ZING!" after every sarcastic thing I say so she doesn't flip a biscuit! eheheh, Awesome! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
UrLittleDecoy Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 an old one... It was only a hot summer night But i never felt myself alright He broke my heart apart to pieces I never looked up again to see his Eyes,his cheek,his hair,his adorable face All the things i ever loved and now i hate The moment i saw him with that girl Broke apart my soul,my heart,my world The pain i feel,it's simply unfair I would never do the things they dare I will never understand how could he be this cruel I just cannot believe that he tricked me like a fool I see his dignity though,there's guilt in his eyes He really wanna undo this,he's sick of his fights He was scared,he lead the wrong ways He can't believe the things that he says He is a victim but also his the blame He's just shouting and repeating my name But i'm not here anymore,there's enough hate He's trying to stop me but it is too late... I'm running away with my desperate thoughts I want him to suffer,to handle his faults I'm seeing the last way,i'm seeing the lights Now my life is over,it's not more,only lies My life is done,my brain is all mad I'm saying his name with my last breath... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Defiance Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 ^shut it alex. it's amazing. don't mind the twat boy. you rule jorgi. she knows i love her really Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 ^Oh. My. Fish!!!!!I love it. MOREMOREMOREMORE! haha thank you i'll post the next little bit tonight. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jammer Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 I was listening to a lot of Rage Against the Machine when I wrote this. Fist to the Face Enough is enough Time to take your stand Pushed us to the brink And watched us fall endlessly But now we turn the tables And stand on our own feet... Time for a change Nothing a fist to the face Couldn't solve Left the pacifism behind Relying on a fist to the face... Never took much note Of the political soup we stew in Until it shoots you in the foot Taking down the beuracracy By any means necessary... *chorus* A fist to the face The holy grail That can't be silenced Politeness only gets you so far In this crazed world of ours Pick your moment And explode in their faces! Exploding in their faces! Exploding in their faces! Exploding in their faces! *chorus* Take this fight to the end Nothing like a fist to the face Wouldn't you say? Hmm. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
my.heart. Posted June 14, 2008 Report Share Posted June 14, 2008 next part of my book. scroll back for the opening if you want to read it My hair hung across my face as I searched through my drawers. The blood had rushed to my head from being perpetually vertical, but I liked it; I stayed there for a further 5 minutes, and just as my whole upper body began to feel numb I heard a knock. Slowly swinging my head back onto it's stand and unfurling my body, everything around the room was flecked with white and blue. I made my way to the door, barely making it around the bed as my head pounded surreptitiously, punishing me for my moroseness. "We have grown, we have grown." Double Fantasy trickled from the speakers in my living room, which was twice the size of my apartment in new york but still felt too small for me. When you do eventually have the opportunity to grow up, the more you do, the bigger you feel. Eventually you just feel like you're taking up entirely too much space and that everything that was once normal is now fit for only a dainty doll's house. I stood behind the door for a while (note that I wasn't counting; just waiting, as if I had nothing to gain and less to lose), blindingly aware that I was standing in a men's collared shirt, the striped white cotton barely covering my milky thighs and two different socks, charmingly mismatched. Behold the emaciated weirdo in Apartment 27. I realised that people perceived me as little but an 'artist' type, living on coffee and cigarettes and the thousands of old movies in my antique cherry cabinet. I finally decided after an indeterminate amount of time that whoever was on the other side of my door would at best want to take me to a shrink, and at worst be deathly boring with nothing of interest to talk about. I sat down and began watching Carnivale, curling my feet underneath my warm body. I hadn't felt warmth in months, despite the blistering California heat outside. There's a point when you become so drained of feeling that you lose your languor; after all, part of feeling alive is the want to give up, and when that happens you become cold. Perhaps because your body is waiting for the go ahead to pack up all together. Right now, my body was warm, indicating that I was living too much in the real world and not enough in my world. The pounding in my head reminded me that I had been filled with intrinsic motivation only moments before, and I abandoned my love of The Great Depression to re instill this. I continued to dig through dresses, the occasional feathered hat or bejewelled stiletto, I even kept a vintage wedding gown in an old hat box under my desk incase I found someone worthy enough to take my last name from me. I enjoy my last name a great deal. Eventually I found it. A brown suede jacket, elbow patches and all, tailored to fit a tall, thin man whose presence lived in his clothes. The kind that you would have loved if you'd been alive 80 years ago. Sliding it comfortably over my bony shoulders, my appearance felt suddenly complete, albeit the glare of bare flesh from the waist down. My blood had run cold once again. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
notoriousfat67 Posted June 15, 2008 Report Share Posted June 15, 2008 next part of my book. scroll back for the opening if you want to read it My hair hung across my face as I searched through my drawers. The blood had rushed to my head from being perpetually vertical, but I liked it; I stayed there for a further 5 minutes, and just as my whole upper body began to feel numb I heard a knock. Slowly swinging my head back onto it's stand and unfurling my body, everything around the room was flecked with white and blue. I made my way to the door, barely making it around the bed as my head pounded surreptitiously, punishing me for my moroseness. "We have grown, we have grown." Double Fantasy trickled from the speakers in my living room, which was twice the size of my apartment in new york but still felt too small for me. When you do eventually have the opportunity to grow up, the more you do, the bigger you feel. Eventually you just feel like you're taking up entirely too much space and that everything that was once normal is now fit for only a dainty doll's house. I stood behind the door for a while (note that I wasn't counting; just waiting, as if I had nothing to gain and less to lose), blindingly aware that I was standing in a men's collared shirt, the striped white cotton barely covering my milky thighs and two different socks, charmingly mismatched. Behold the emaciated weirdo in Apartment 27. I realised that people perceived me as little but an 'artist' type, living on coffee and cigarettes and the thousands of old movies in my antique cherry cabinet. I finally decided after an indeterminate amount of time that whoever was on the other side of my door would at best want to take me to a shrink, and at worst be deathly boring with nothing of interest to talk about. I sat down and began watching Carnivale, curling my feet underneath my warm body. I hadn't felt warmth in months, despite the blistering California heat outside. There's a point when you become so drained of feeling that you lose your languor; after all, part of feeling alive is the want to give up, and when that happens you become cold. Perhaps because your body is waiting for the go ahead to pack up all together. Right now, my body was warm, indicating that I was living too much in the real world and not enough in my world. The pounding in my head reminded me that I had been filled with intrinsic motivation only moments before, and I abandoned my love of The Great Depression to re instill this. I continued to dig through dresses, the occasional feathered hat or bejewelled stiletto, I even kept a vintage wedding gown in an old hat box under my desk incase I found someone worthy enough to take my last name from me. I enjoy my last name a great deal. Eventually I found it. A brown suede jacket, elbow patches and all, tailored to fit a tall, thin man whose presence lived in his clothes. The kind that you would have loved if you'd been alive 80 years ago. Sliding it comfortably over my bony shoulders, my appearance felt suddenly complete, albeit the glare of bare flesh from the waist down. My blood had run cold once again. I am loving this, i really wish i could write like you. Im kinda reminded of the character in fight club Behold the emaciated weirdo in Apartment 27. especially that part. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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