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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
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People think being the best-selling author of the Pokey Little Bunny™ series of children’s books is nothing but cream-filled cupcakes, but they’re wrong.
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This is the hole I fell in. I can sort of crawl out of it now, but I must have fallen fastasleep in there. Does it really matter if it was for a long or a short time? Everyone is suddenly gone like a smile and replaced lately by sadly different versions…
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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into
White uncertainty.
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126811
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In the afternoon, there was a certain time when the sunlight spilled through the windows in the common room and made everything look all bright and fresh and optimistic. If you ignored the patients and doctors milling about and…
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She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…
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126856
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so much of what we know with certainty is amazingly uncertain
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126852
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What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…
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Hey Sledge!
Yo.
Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy.
Say wha?
That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St
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We never meant to gain their confidence only to outgrow them. They were once our best friends, the ones who listened, the ones who understood or sat across from us so we could see them nod. They leaned…
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I remembered every noun and matching verb,
Simple sentences only, two words divided by a line,
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Dutton felt thwarted in his literary career, producing only the classic "Here I sit all broken-hearted, paid a nickel to crap and only farted" in a locker room stall at halftime of the 1963 Weedwacker Bowl.
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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure
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Transhumanism has always had its malcontents usually derived from some philosophic contestation, but for all their thought experiments, somehow my present situation eluded them.
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I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other
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You better read the papers
If you don’t understand
Cause as of last night
I’m a one-man band
You’d better walk through water
With your boots on fire
Cause Baby I don’t think
I can take this any higher
You’d better find out what I dr
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The white moon is dangling
by a thread tonight.
I close my eyes
and listen to it undress.
Your halo fell around your ankles
and you became see-through,
but there’s a vast gulf between being pretty,
and pretty dangerous.
Still, I’ve s
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Pick up any stick or stone and you'll find the path again. Pick out any lone star and it will shine just for you. The rascal wind simply enjoys messing about with your serious nature. Listen to its…
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“Professor Gosser,”continued Victor, “I once screwed three women in a row--I mean of course, time, not space—good one, huh? Well, each woman farted at the exact moment she climaxed. Would that qualify as coincidence? And did it have anything to do with th
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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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bursting girl there is no moon
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They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …
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Before I take on any client, I need to know why exactly you need the services of a professional wingman. It’s hard to admit to your failures, especially when it involves your penis.
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Mr. Townsend is a normal guy. He's been on auto pilot a while. When he finally snaps out of it, he's surprised at what he finds.
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Marie Poupon-Kennedy wasn’t strangled by one set of hands; there were thirty sets around that long, pale neck.
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“Tell me how sad they are.”
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