

Workman's VisionWhen a child, I have played games with a blindfold obscuring my vision. Now, I am like that child. Blindfolded, groping my way, not knowing where I am going, or if I am in the proper direction. Someday, someone will remove that blindfold. -Dr. Joseph Workman &nbsWorkman's Vision


Mother's Child: Chapter 5 DreamMother's Child: Chapter 5
Pain. It hurts. Obviously. You never know just how much you need something, though, until you can't have it anymore. If nothing else, my dealings with Leah have taught me that much. I've been told to keep things vague; it's easiest not to think about what happened; just swallow it


Mother's Child: Chapter 4 WalkMother's Child: Chapter 4
Sometimes the only thing you can do is cry. It helps. A lot. There are things that are too deep to try to explain; too difficult to explain to someone. The best thing you can have is a friend whos willing to be your shoulder to cry on without any explanation.
The


LoveLove is nothing, Without a kiss. Love is everything, When you feel like this. Love is precious, When they mean everything to you. Love is painful, When they're not with you. Love is priceless, The true kind can't be bought. Love is life... When it's all you've got.Love
11/24/2003
bleh...tell me how you like it...o.o;


I Love The Way You Love MeI love the way I can talk to you And say what's on my mind I never have to look away Or keep a thing insideI Love The Way You Love Me
Tears fill my eyes when you're not around
Or when you just don't care But I know in my heart you will do what's right For me, you will always dare
Material things will never matter As long as I have you You make every day that passes So much easier to get through
My worries disappear when you're around No thoughts of pain or doubt I feel your love when you hold me close And kiss me if I pout
I don't care what they


A Not-Love Poem[What the stars tossed, salt-casual, onto the not-black of the not-night suggest could be love, but I can't read them.]A Not-Love Poem
This is not a love poem, not-love, a not-love poem.
Falling waist deep into February stomping the signatures of lost years in footprints on the pristine present- this, not-night has become electric with memories smashing through the thin ice of teenage alchemy, charged, with the possibility of heartache,
Angel of Ice
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i am me
no one else
if you don't like it
oh well
96% of teens and college students won't stand up for God. Put this on your page/signature if your one of the 4% who will
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[link] ليس للإبداع حدود ..!
Member in *HDR-Club & =NaturPics-club
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L, Sais-tu que les shinigami ne mangent que des pommes ?
Shinigamylle is upon you...
it means alot
xoxo--Karen
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Capturing life's memories...
Hope it was a great one anyway!
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Thus sayeth the Muffin.
~ThePurpleNurple
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