outbounds

best page in the universe
homestarrunner.com
real ultimate power
w3schools.com
ebaum's world
oldversion.com

harry potter sites

pulse so what does life really mean, anyway? not blood in veins, or breath inside, but what is life? to the blue, is it torment? is it meaningless? is this cold, dark world not but a   -cell- that we simply survive? to the happy, is it joy? is there so much in the world as to say 'why yes, life is an apple pie!' a big birthday present every day? to the lover, is it her? is life accumulated and manifested into that one girl who is every pulse and breath? is she the reason for being? to each is own - something my mom told me in my ignorant youth what is life to me? i'll never tell. january 21, '02 thunder dark clouds looming, i can see the road from here driving into the void seems almost foolish sometimes the storm is coming and i am afraid, but i know i will survive this torment, this whirlwind, -it is only temporary- and i can see the sun on the other side. thin-skinned maybe i was more sensitive when they talked about me before maybe i should have grown up when they yelled at me or questioned me or silently whispered about me perhaps i should have let it slide when they pushed me away and i became noone bleeding and scarred, i let them get to me i thought what they thought, and i did become noone years later, i am someone i am talented and capable i have friends yet the wounds continue it's silly, i know, to let this bother me but in ignorance, even friends can open old wounds sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me bullshit. september 30, '01 futility *** a sigh, a tear, and thought of what was but can no longer be i caught the shadow of a memory, and it made me remember a certain set of star-shaped lights and a certain bed, wrapped around a certain girl that i can certainly not see again. i wince; but i sniff, and turn into the wind -alone- which is probably better anyway. february 25, '03 - 11:12 p.m i wrote this a week after rachel and i separated. orbital twilight, secret stars, once seen shooting, leaves the peripheral to find it's place in creation and as i sit begging to follow it, the ghosts of she tickle at my neck, teasing me with that faint tingle that i've felt since i saw her i pause for a second to die a little more, and i test myself if i did everything right she was the black behind my bright, the shine in deep, dark night i thought) the reason for my being but i was nothing to she that was everything and so i sit, quietly, eagerly, waiting for another shooting star. march 29, '04 - 1:45 a.m.

as we swing *** feather light swaying on the breeze that sweeps over the lake and through the trees of jade lithe and nimble are the strands of your hair flying and waving on the tips of the wind a pattern a puzzle a dance that beckons my soul to move inside my chest arhythmic motion sets my heart alight i trip over words meant to sway you as the tides of your hair carry me away to foolishness july 20, '03 - very early a.m. this is in regards to my friend emily, who lives in michigan. she is beautiful, and this was written nearly 3 weeks after the mentioned "swing" evidence *** dreams not left, but wanting thinking, toiling, squandring thrown as far as strength allows and forsaken past my memory tripping on whatever keeps me   going and not lingering missing everything i should be seeing and not really missing it at all yet destinations not yet pinned formulas not yet perfect shadows building, nesting, resting in the lofts of my perception darkening my sight, mind, and hope to a bowl of swill, a trough of shit a plate full of everything and nothing that i've worked so hard to misplace december 31, '03 - 1:27 a.m. i knew rachel and i were about to break up. even though we were together, i was alone. silhouette i couldn't help but notice how cold you've been lately what is wrong with you? such despair and confusion must be trying though you sit silent, i hear your thoughts i know why your eyes seem darker than before yet i know not what to say i've reasoned and logicated myself a thousand times over and have yet to reach pure joy mirror, mirror, on the wall you reflect a poor shadow of what could be you remember cold days that are due to fade and you deny yourself the forgiveness that is already forgiven a prisoner of remorse may soon find the only key for salvation is the one in his own hand september 19, '01 reminisce i could tell you i miss you but i'd be inviting i could tell you i want you but i'd be dying i could tell you that it would be better but i'd be lying i could tell you you'd love me but we both know that's not right i could tell you that you'd want me but you didn't before, so why would you now? we could reopen our wounds and start again but it will all end the same again anyway we could do the things we used to but i'd rather just go alone july 17, '03 - 4:07 p.m.