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7-16-2012: Never Your Daughter After all those times when I wanted to run away but hadn't, it was strange to actually be doing just that. I had never had the courage to get any farther than the apron of the driveway and sometimes, I couldn't even get the courage to start packing a bag, but here I am. Gone. It's a miracle in itself that I had gone out the door without anyone hearing.
I know my dad loves me, but his new wife, Dee, is another story. I'd blame her for everything if it wasn't so obvious that I was the only one she has a problem with. She dotes on my little brothers like they were her own children (she has one who lives with us, a girl named Marissa), b
7-15-2012: A Diamond in the Rough With the driver's seat in full recline, the haze of tobacco smoke created a personal cloudy sky above his head. He couldn't quite get over the acrid smell of the smoke, even though he had already developed an easy puff and exhale routine that his lungs were beginning to appreciate. "Appreciate" was probably the wrong word, but saying that his lungs were just becoming used to it was definitely an understatement. The habit was only an hour old and already he craved the taste of the cigarettes in the downtime between flicking the butt into his ashtray and lighting up again.
He took a swig of the fresh bottle of Jack Daniel's and let it mel
7-10-2012: Black on Gray I was sixteen when they took me away: on the cusp of adulthood but more frightened than even the smallest child could ever understand. Life was supposed to go a certain way when you turn sixteen: you learn to drive, you start discovering the person you will be for the rest of your life, you begin to explore your sexuality, you cause trouble, and you live. That was the long and short of it: you live.
I was watching a movie on the television with my little sister Veronica when the news broke in and said that we were under attack with atomic weapons poised at us, ready to fire. They said nations around the world had all called war upon
7-9-2012: Intensity, part 2There's a faint squeaking of marker against plastic, the slight shuffling sound as Perry erases her mistake (one of many, but this is the one that she catches). If I were sitting closer, I would smell the acrid odor of the ink as it defaces the white board. Perry is a graffitist: she does not create beauty with paint. I hate her.
I've already finished writing the note before she's ever finished putting it on the board: it's her own base interpretation of Edna, but mine is more elegant. Mine is correct. Perry is an animal with basic communicative skills. I am a singing bird. I am a symphony.
The boy next to me is furiously scribbling down Pe
Of Children and SweetsI see the faces of angels
Where laugh lines have freshly started
I see chocolate-covered wings
Dripping souls of youth departed.
There- upon their candy-coated fingers-
Innocence lies sticky on the nail-beds
Hope and pleasure are stuck in their robes
Tangled close in the loosely woven threads.
The glitter that used to dot their eyes
Is littered on their dirty, crooked toes
The blooms that found homes in their cheeks
Have left for that dark land called No-One-Knows.
They bid me to speak and to sing
They ask me to remind them how to laugh
I show them and they try to do it too
But the closest they ever get is half.
They have busi
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More