My story, as I know it, might end today; my thoughts are always lost, always dirty, always mean. My life was never good enough, I was never good enough.
The world is beautiful with tears in my eyes. What could it be without?
A story can be told pages, in years, in a breath, in a gesture, or even a single look. In this case, it takes two sentences.
How quick the skycotton cloud goes through a relentless remould while retaining it’s totality. How honest the unendomed sky reflects our going of grey-and-gold and life’s futility.
Near the end of his life, he searched through the motives behind all of the stupid things he had done. When it was not carelessness, it was loneliness.
One afternoon, she went to the store and unexpectedly bought almost 12 months of memories. They weren’t on sale and definitely can’t be returned.
He told me just to stop and take a breath. As if my drowning was by choice.
As he walked through life alone he happened upon a mirror.Alas, his reflection too, had left him.
With all my heart I try. I wait till the end of my consciousness to see the consequences.
I’ve known Kathy for seven years now, yet have learned only one thing all this time. Her life’s been an open book!
Some things in life are just too hard to let go. But then again, for the sake of one’s sanity, it’s only necessary.
Our potential, when plotted on a graph, yields a pair of parallel lines, beautiful and statuesque, yet bittersweet in their fate, destined to touch but not once in all of eternity. If there is even the slightest hope that we shall one day be together, one of us must bend.
The cool wind stirring through his hair and filling his nostrils, he opened his mouth to take in a deep breath of this sweet, new life, for he had finally made it to the top of the top; the summit of the mountain we call success. It felt good, really good there at the top, except for an acute, tugging pain in his abdomen that seemed to be nagging sadistically, cackling at him like an old witch, “There’s only one direction you can go now, buddy – hee-hee hee!”
They tell me, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
If so, I want to be in the audience, living a real life.
I had always imagined blazing hot flames, whips and chains, and one hundred tons of pure, physical pain. But if I had known that hell was going to consist of watching over and over again the thing I did to you… well, this is far worse than the punishment I had imagined – and there’s no way to go back.
“Today was the best day of my entire life!” Glen exclaimed with the grin of a madman before stabbing the dagger straight into his heart.
We shouldn’t have been surprised; he had always preached a sell-high mentality.
There’s nothing in this world I want more than you. What a shitty world I must live in.
I loved math back when each problem had only one solution. After that it started to remind me of my life.
He liked to play Monopoly and she grew up playing Scrabble.
They knew they had different priorities, different dreams, and probably different futures, but for now they weren’t playing the game of Life – they were just having a little fun, savoring the taste of each other’s lips and the warmth of one another’s bodies here and now in the lust of the moment.
He slung a scarcely-packed sac over his left shoulder and began the trek that would lead him past even the very last buildings that lingered beyond the city limits – away from civilization, away from society, away from people and their happy little fabricated realities.
But a hint of doubt plagued the confidence in his steps: was it really them he was running away from?