Jack Kerouac Quote

Sophia was not like ordinary children. She did not run as fast, nor dress the same, atau even live in the same kind of house. In fact, Sophia was never a child inside from the age of five. On the eve of her fifth birthday, she had gone to bed, as weary and happy as ever, but, unlike most children of age five, she did not have peaceful dreams of kupu-kupu and peri all in a meadow together. In truth, she had a terrible nightmare, one that should not come to children of that age.
She dreamt of a bus, not a school bus, atau one that people use to get off and on again and again, but a black, shiny...

(k so this is a story my friend emailed me!! CAUTION: SOME MAY FIND IT OFFENSIVE)

I had been with my girlfriend for a year, but when I left my job at the bank, we broke up. I was okay with that, we had never connected, atau maybe just never had the time to as my job was 12 hours a day.

After leaving my old life - my job, girlfriend and halaman awal in Los Angeles, I moved to a smaller town in California.

I struggled to carry all my luggage into the building my apartment was in, after getting out of the cab. When I stepped into the elevator, I saw her. I saw her like the men in the film see the women...

I can’t get no reach of you
You want me with you
Then anda push me away
And I can’t get no clear view
From these bloodshot windows
In your eyes

I’m torn left and right
You can’t seem to make up your mind
When will anda drop your disguise
And tampil me your inner side

I can hear what anda say
But it doesn’t make any sense
When anda say anda cinta me
Then menelan the words back in
I’m tired of this game
Will anda just pick a side
If anda don’t wanna lose me
Make up your mind

You treat me like a queen
Then anda look at me
Like I’m dirt on your shoes
And anda say the sweetest things
Then anda talk to me
Like I’m...

Here are two poems i wrote a while ago, one was out of anger towards my sister and the other one was self loathing (i was having a bad hari i'm not always like that)

I’m sick of these tears
That drip upon my face
With my head held low
I feel like a disgrace
I’m sick of all these arguments
Where only I get hurt
Not just oleh your words
Which are always so curt
But because I’m the one
Who's always in trouble
If it takes two to tango
How come the trouble isn’t double
Enough about the arguments
I have lebih to address
Because the way anda treat me
Is just a mess
You have rules
And that’s fine with me
But what...