Psych35689

 They were inseparable.  It was obvious from the start.  People saw them together, and they thought that they were siblings, with their matching blonde hair and blue eyes, but they weren't.  Simply best friends.  The best friends that anyone could ever have. She was a smart girl, for her age.  She could read faster than anyone else in their class, except for maybe him.  Her parents taught at the college; they lived in a big blue house with four cats.  Her green bedroom had four huge windows, and she had a closet full of toys and a bookshelf full of stories that every child dreams of. He was smart too, and the only one she understood compl

The lights are off save one. Darkness is a welcome friend. The voices run through my eyes again. The blankets are thick on top of me. The silhouettes on the wall are watching. The computer rotates in a moving chair. The futon juts out from the wall in the middle of the room. The air is cold. The lamps twist up towards the ceiling. The overhead fan is dusty. The wall of words reflects light from the hexagonal window across the room. Books are piled everywhere. The table beside my bed is covered in paper and books, all looking abandoned. My bedroom door is closed, but the bathroom door is open.  It is dark in there. Marie Antoinet

Looking to the western skies Sheathed in orange and purple dyes I can't help but think of your eyes Tonight. From orange to red to rose to grey I couldn't help but think of you today As the orange sky fades to say A colour the shade of your eyes that night. And now I sit and think of your eyes Inducing all of my heterochromic sighs And all of our saddened goodbyes And together, we are alone tonight.

 There's nothing quite like this.  You're standing center stage, side by side with the people you love so very much.  On your left is your lover; on the right the closest you've ever had to a brother. The lights go up.  The pianist begins to play, and your lips twitch into a tiny smile.  Your lips part, and you sing, your voice soaring through the theatre, mixing in with those of the others.  "Seasons of love!"  All at once, the words mean something more to you.  How could you live without them, the people you love? Your sister steps forward and sings her part.  "Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes!"  Her voice is perfec

1.  Grey- After It All. The withered man sits in a wheelchair, staring into the fire.  The room behind him is shrouded in darkness.  In his hands, the man holds a ragged photograph.  He looks at it blankly.  The images are so faded that only the outlines of the figures can be seen:  Two of young men, and one of a girl.  The old man carefully folds the photograph along the well-worn crease lines. He tears it in half and throws it into the fire. 2.  Shades Of Blue-  Where It Begins Libba steps out of the taxi and looks around.  New York City… It's even grander than she had imagined.  She looks up at the building in front of her.  Th

1)  When numbering lists, always start with the number 1, and then follow with the other counting numbers in a consecutive order.  It makes things quite a bit simpler. 2)  Your body is a temple.  Don't take naked pictures of it to send to your boyfriend/girlfriend; it will come back to haunt you.  If they want to see your body, tell them to wait to see it in person.  If they really love you, they will, and they'll worship it as well. 3)  Don't let guys make intensely obvious references to their penis, sex, your breasts and vagina, and taking off their pants to you if they