| the thousand islands...what a breathtakingly beautiful place |
| the thousand islands...what a breathtakingly beautiful place |


Ocean of MineOcean of MineOcean of Mine
I know your face well, dark ocean of mine. I know the touch of your waves against me. I come to you often, it seems.
I remember when I wanted to memorize you, Your swirling blue-green, your translucent shore, Until I could paint your image with closed eyes.
That was long, long ago, Before sweet caress turned to harsh embrace; Before loving care became possession.
Your colors churn as I approach, As I traipse across the bone-white sand. Your monstrous roar has already encased my ears.
Your cold seascape seems to be ev


clarityclarityclarity
deep in the wind, the lions roar who could have known what this storm had in store? and yet here I am, begging for more
dressed in red but its all in your head
down in the sea, predators prowl way up above, that unearthly howl danger lurks behind every scowl
I still smile hide with me for a while
on the land, its the worst of them all lies upon lies that beckon and call angels never know how far they can fall
can I fly? if you want, I can try
in the eye of the storm its abun


my mock research paper Most people are unaware of this, but one of the most wide-spread tragedies to ever hit this planet is improper usage of punctuation. Another commonly unknown fact is that the most misused punctual structures, if you will, arent strange or obscure, like the colon, the hyphen, or even the outlandish semicolon; they are your friendly, neighborhood comma and apostrophe (Punctual 44). People just dont seem to care as much any more, wrote W. Shakespeare in his book Sticklers Unite. The importance of proper punctuation hasnt changed, the culturemy mock research paper
Nataraj

Im bittersweet when I wake upIm bittersweet when I wake up.Im bittersweet when I wake up
Soft and slow. My voice is on play: I wake up everyday. When I suddenly do its all harsh and bleak. My eyelids start to open while my body remains silent. I uncover myself from the sheets of depression in a slow dance with my mind. Everyday. Surrounded by walking corpses. Talking corpses. Non-stop talking. They shatter the stories I lived while asleep from my memory. They expel them with their voices. With their sharp loud voices. I begin to wonder where I can buy a piece of silence for when I stop dreaming. I imagine Ill have to di


reincarnation pt 1I coughed a spray of blood and my head hit the cheap hospital pillow once again. She wiped a drop of blood as it started to drip out of my mouth. A single tear rolled off of her cheek and onto both of our hands. Let me sleep. I whispered hoarsely. Never, she said quietly. If you fail now I will never forgive you.reincarnation pt 1
Its only a small nap, I replied to try to easy her pain. My vision started to blur and I looked up at the lights. I closed my eyes and the pain started to fade away. The urge to sleep was inevitable and I drew out one last tear. The last thing I heard the
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No.. Duh...
I'm a member of Project Reciprocation, >[link]
SO WAT IF I'M ¼% DYSLEXIC?
When I grow up Im gonna be your worst nightmare....Either way..
--
Here's my question: why is it called common sense if it's so rare?
---
(\ /)
( . .)
C(")(")
I am a Project Reciprocation member - you comment on my work, I comment on yours!
It's great, and you should join too
--
Here's my question: why is it called common sense if it's so rare?
---
(\ /)
( . .)
C(")(")
I am a Project Reciprocation member - you comment on my work, I comment on yours!
It's great, and you should join too
--
\'We hold in our hands, the most precious gift of all: Freedom. The freedom to express our art. Our love. The freedom to be who we want to be. We are not going to give that freedom away and no one shall take it from us!\'
-D. Frolov and A. Schneider
--
Here's my question: why is it called common sense if it's so rare?
---
(\ /)
( . .)
C(")(")
I am a Project Reciprocation member - you comment on my work, I comment on yours!
It's great, and you should join too
--
\'We hold in our hands, the most precious gift of all: Freedom. The freedom to express our art. Our love. The freedom to be who we want to be. We are not going to give that freedom away and no one shall take it from us!\'
-D. Frolov and A. Schneider
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