In order: Jakezy, my husband. Magick, my luffie. And Halezy, my little enchilada.
Have you enjoyed your super-mega-omgwtf-long question time? :3 How are you today? We hardly talk on msn.. is that a bad thing?
I adore spongebob. That episode made me laugh hysterically. "Are these the stairs of learning?" "...No, they're just the stairs. These are the stairs of learning!"
Phase Seven Killing Time I watched the curtains close, a small tear dribbling from my right eye as I sighed. I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder, causing my attention to stray from the altar and to the addressor of such an action. My uncle – father’s older brother – smiled down at me. I returned the gesture, and he moved on to the slow beat of the solemn music that seemed to echo from every orifice of the building. The dark coat he wore fell to the back of his knees, tapping them rhythmically as he strolled. I admired such a man; he was brave, warm hearted, and such a strong person. “I’ll see you later, dear.” He smiled towards my mom, who did little but nod at him. Indeed, the atmosphere was dark, but as I stood staring at the grey steps and dimply-lit candles, a small flicker of hope seemed to spark my heart. Only small, but it was a start to something I hoped would be bigger. As the glasses were raised, the alcohol that embraced the innards of such tumblers shimmered in the lighting. It was red, translucent to the naked eye, and yet it seemed so strong within the transparent prison it sat within. I knew I wasn’t allowed a single drop of such a substance; an alcoholic beverage in the hands of a mere 7 year old child was simply unheard of, and most certainly a sour taboo in my mother’s eyes. I glanced towards my own glass, inhaling the intoxicating smell of raspberry and lemonade. I was never allowed such a drink within the walls of my house – “fizzy liquids are not healthy for adults, and certainly not good for young children” my mom would preach, whilst making her way to the bottom of yet another glass of copper-coloured liquid, which most certainly wasn’t squash of any kind. The room of close to fifty people filtered slowly, leaving just close family behind. I distinctly remember seeing my first fall of snow that day. It most certainly was the greatest day of my childhood. *** They’re lying. They don’t know anything about you. You’re fine on your own; if they try to help, they’ll just screw things up. Don’t let them worm their way in, Emma. “I swear to god, I’m eating.” I sighed, repeating that overused phrase of mine for possibly the seventh time now. Nurse Fitzgerald, seemingly unsure on what to believe, released a small sigh of her own. Her hand slowly clutched the receiver of the phone on her desk, the other, with a swift motion, excused me from her office and into the waiting room. “Who are you phoning?” I demanded as I lingered in the doorway. I felt another twist of anxiousness hit my stomach, but no emotion dare pass my face as I glared downward toward the staff member. “Oh hello, this is Nurse Fitzgerald from Trinity, and I’m phoning on behalf of your daughter, Emma Halson.” Her chirpy voice seemed light-hearted as she ignored my question, and continued to speak down the receiver. Lie your way out of it. Tell them what they want to hear. Don’t give them the pleasure of telling you that you’re fucked up. It isn’t worth it. They’ll just add salt to the wounds. “You’re going to be monitored at lunch by the staff in the kitchens.” I sighed. Nothing more, nothing less. Simply sighed. If I protested, they would catch on. They’re trying to catch you out. Don’t let them be the boss of you. Make fools out of them all; show them how we are far stronger than they think. We’ll kill them. Kill them inside. Make them look more like idiots. We’ll do it. “Fine then.” I replied hastily, but with eyes set in stone. I was going to regret this, but hell, they weren’t going to call my bluff. This is war, bitch, and my guns are ready to fire. *** I stared out of my bedroom window in a slight daze, sighing as a small white dot soared from the sky. Several followed, cushioning each object they landed upon in some form of expertly executed military attack. The general, Jack Frost, was sure to storm through the town once night struck; he was a coward like that, never showing his miserable face, always performing each manoeuvre under a discreet blanket of night-time air. I envied him; he had such an easy job, an easy life, as his objectives given to him are simple: spread his crystals and diamond sheets throughout town and cities, and let his minion flakes do the rest through daylight hours. I want to be him. I want to be Jack Frost. Perhaps I’m insane. Startling me from my insanity-trip, vibrations emitted from my pocket caused me to jump. My mattress, although old, still held a good bounce, throwing my body from its sitting position completely, sending me into a faceplant on the bedroom floor. “Oh my god...” I mumbled, curling onto my side as I threw my hand into my pocket and pulled out my mobile. It took me a moment, but my eyes regained focus on what the words on the screen read: two New Messages. Oh, joy. I knew immediately that it would be Samantha, being her old nosey self and asking why I was sent home early. I would have bet my life on it. Ignoring the stinging sensation that gripped my facial area, I opened the first message. As predicted, it was Samantha enquiring on why I left her alone in gym class. Oh, sympathy goes far with that girl. The second, from an unknown number, took me by surprise. I hope you’re feeling better, Emma. You looked like something was on your mind when I saw you today. Phone me if you need anything, okay? (: X I stared at the screen. “Looks like Samantha has been passing around my number, huh.” I sighed, deleting the message and throwing my phone to my bed. I glared towards the piece of furniture, feeling a small burn of irritation hit my eyes. “Oh, I don’t see you throwing the phone off the bed, now, do I?” I raised my voice a little, leering at the messed up duvet and various stuffed animals. “What? Is the phone LIGHT enough for you now? Am I too HEAVY for you to fucking handle?” I paused, blinking. Congratulations. You have just argued with an inanimate object. One more step towards total insanity. I hate myself.
avvy - 6/10 siggy - 6/10 .-.
Be quiet. Kira might hear you. :B|:
A Noob fight. This is all we need.
avvy = 1, as it of bad quality. siggy = 4 .-.
Spoiler c: just to rub it in your face a little bit. My cousins locked me out of their house,and tried to throw snowballs at me. (yes, I am sticking my tongue out at them x3) Spoiler EDIT: yeah, i just realised how short I look on that piccha.
I played Assassins Creed through a projector once. It was one of the most amazing gameplay experiences of life. .-. I might count what I have, now that you have me curious.. Xbox360, PS1, PS2, PS2 slimline, iPod nano, MP3, DS, Gameboy advance, Gameboy Colour, and a PSP. Heck, I don't use any of them.
Pour some SlimFast into your fat tv. That'll teach it a lesson in low-calorie portion control >|
I would do this. Kind of. ... Yeah, I really wouldn't do this. I hope you get hypothermia, are admitted to hospital, and die a painful frost-bitten death there for being such a silly person. :B|:
Spinning one of my Vans shoes around my foot. singing along to Melody Gardot, wishing it would snow more than 12 inches, thinking of writing some more. c:
we sud av secks, ja?
This, in itself, is quite stereotypical. So if somebody in your school is alternative, they automatically dislike him? I doubt that's true. Because wearing a simple hat is something you can change. That is not personal, is it is merely a clothing preference that can be altered. Referring to your examples, having an old ripped uniform may be of some indication that the wealth of their family is suffering, or something along those lines. Therefore, they cannot help it, and would be more than offended if such a thing was pointed out. Ridiculously large feet and ginger hair? Again, this is something they cannot change (unless you say hair dye, but still, let's not go into technicalities) so again, those are very personal things. Unlike just a hat. May I refer back to your original post for a moment? Okay. Just because your mom is a secretary of a politician does not mean she can claim a racist insult where she thinks necessary, and have it automatically approved. What he did was not racist. Also, this is not going off topic, as you mentioned it in your first post here. Explain how he said it, please? He is not allowed to just fire a teacher for something like this. A true reason must be written down formally, and approved by higher governors. If anything, he will simply be reprimanded by a higher positioned staff member. What type of school must you go to when one teacher educates a class purely on nouns? This would not be allowed in school curriculum, and to be honest, I think there is more dramatisation than truth in this. kdone.
I live like, 5 minutes away from where Joe lives. I might go and burn his house.
Magick, my bestie little luffie. I fecking love you to bits. Like, literally. If you were chopped up, I would still love you. Although we talk from when you come online, to when you go offline, it'll still be odd coming on here and not seeing your dry-humoured posts. Miss seeing you around and all that. Speak soon. omnomnomnomnom<3333
Someone's a hardcore mother fucker.
Same here, really. Stupid ****ing thread.
Racism? Dear god, what are you and your mom thinking, seriously? He was probably joking with you; my teachers do it all the time. If you laugh with them, and people see that you aren't paticularly bothered, a humiliating reaction from your peers probably wouldn't happen. As for the racism, was he insulting your skin colour/race? No. Why get skin colour involved then? It makes you look like a total idiot for even crossing those lines. He won't lose his job. Don't get your hopes up.
