Date: May 11, 2009
Time: 6:50 PM
---
Written by Joshua Ward.
I wanted to write again, so this is what I wrote. I hope you enjoy it. I'm in a good mood^^ So that's good.
Take care everyone.
~Josh~
---
So you say...
You sit in your room, listening to blue grass music, which you think is okay. You twitch ever so slightly at the change in music that's occurred. Nothing particularly out of the usual, just wanting to. Per chance, you find yourself going over the notes for the test that you know you have. It's inevitable; the teachers will make you sit there, in the classroom. Nothing left to distract you. And you'll feel totally, completely exposed. Nothing left to hide your features. Nothing left to keep the sun from your eyes. But the mind escapes into it's own impossibilities. Such words as 'worthless', 'coin' and 'panic' fill themselves into your head. Nothing new. Just calm yourself. Pace yourself. The race is genuinely won by the slow runners; or so said some old people on Main Street. And so you thought about it. And you think 'Wow!!' As if smiling is going to change your attitude to your fellow classmates. Life's a drag, but you keep pressing your pencil to the paper. Nothing left to do besides that anyways, I suppose. And you come to a question. Not a very hard one. Though, not a very easy one. It, is a question that leaves you with fear. As if the devil himself is video-taping you from some unknown planet. Does he have a camera? Is such a devil interested in the finer arts? We shall have tea together sometime, that's for sure. Shall I invite you over after school? I'm sure we have much to discuss. And then your mind goes into a complete halt. You feel frozen, literally. Aching to the bone. You cannot breathe, suffocating ever so slowly. The devil must have heard your thoughts.
Anything. Anything to look at. Take my mind out of this place. And look beside you, an eraser. As if telling you, 'erase your own existence.' We all know that Death is nothing to fear. Sometimes the fairy is the one who lights the fire. Sometimes her wings get a little burnt. Yet, whatever the reason, it always seems to end rather happily. I can see you with a twisted smirk on your lips. You want to smile. With the ever so small addiction of my tongue inside your mouth, as if to explore where I've been all day. Why I've been hiding. But you'll never know the reason why. Nope, this pen shall not move another inch, so long as you fill my every thought with your breath along my neck. And I ever so softly moan in silence, as if these small sentences are something more. You wanted more, did you not? That's why you sought me out and captured me with your lips. Blood-stained as they were, I hungered for something even more precious. Save the small ones for last, she always said. The mother who looked in the mirror, always obsessed with looks, and fashion. Never taking the time to realize that her inner beauty is much more. You said, she was 'Beauty on a candlestick,' and I suppose that you would know. I saw you beat her with your fist, multiple times. I heard her scream out.
And so, little devil, I must ask that you refrain from such delicious acts of wanting while in this classroom. The teachers are watching you know. I'll play with you when class is over, but for now.. For now, we must live for the now, save the hard-ons for later, and gently wipe the tears from our eyes. Indeed, we must seek out what is not written, and make it our own. And so, I imagine myself naked, unashamed and glaring into your orbs, and ask you "is this what you want? Lord knows, we all need a little inspiration now and then. So much of life is meant to be written by the pen, not by the book. And then we ask ourselves, are we really here? Is this the life that we really want? Ignoring our own sense of selflessness, we journey in search of something more. I am simply a son, or daughter, searching for my own answer to life. Will I find it? Who knows. But dear little devil, I'll be sure to watch you watch me, as I travel upon these open landscapes and sunny skies. And when it rains, I'll be glad that Mother Nature has given me a name...
And so you jot down your last little tidbit of love, and hand in such a hungry sheet. No one will know if you are truly within reach.
Your eyes hunger for more then just this...
Time: 6:50 PM
---
Written by Joshua Ward.
I wanted to write again, so this is what I wrote. I hope you enjoy it. I'm in a good mood^^ So that's good.
Take care everyone.
~Josh~
---
So you say...
You sit in your room, listening to blue grass music, which you think is okay. You twitch ever so slightly at the change in music that's occurred. Nothing particularly out of the usual, just wanting to. Per chance, you find yourself going over the notes for the test that you know you have. It's inevitable; the teachers will make you sit there, in the classroom. Nothing left to distract you. And you'll feel totally, completely exposed. Nothing left to hide your features. Nothing left to keep the sun from your eyes. But the mind escapes into it's own impossibilities. Such words as 'worthless', 'coin' and 'panic' fill themselves into your head. Nothing new. Just calm yourself. Pace yourself. The race is genuinely won by the slow runners; or so said some old people on Main Street. And so you thought about it. And you think 'Wow!!' As if smiling is going to change your attitude to your fellow classmates. Life's a drag, but you keep pressing your pencil to the paper. Nothing left to do besides that anyways, I suppose. And you come to a question. Not a very hard one. Though, not a very easy one. It, is a question that leaves you with fear. As if the devil himself is video-taping you from some unknown planet. Does he have a camera? Is such a devil interested in the finer arts? We shall have tea together sometime, that's for sure. Shall I invite you over after school? I'm sure we have much to discuss. And then your mind goes into a complete halt. You feel frozen, literally. Aching to the bone. You cannot breathe, suffocating ever so slowly. The devil must have heard your thoughts.
Anything. Anything to look at. Take my mind out of this place. And look beside you, an eraser. As if telling you, 'erase your own existence.' We all know that Death is nothing to fear. Sometimes the fairy is the one who lights the fire. Sometimes her wings get a little burnt. Yet, whatever the reason, it always seems to end rather happily. I can see you with a twisted smirk on your lips. You want to smile. With the ever so small addiction of my tongue inside your mouth, as if to explore where I've been all day. Why I've been hiding. But you'll never know the reason why. Nope, this pen shall not move another inch, so long as you fill my every thought with your breath along my neck. And I ever so softly moan in silence, as if these small sentences are something more. You wanted more, did you not? That's why you sought me out and captured me with your lips. Blood-stained as they were, I hungered for something even more precious. Save the small ones for last, she always said. The mother who looked in the mirror, always obsessed with looks, and fashion. Never taking the time to realize that her inner beauty is much more. You said, she was 'Beauty on a candlestick,' and I suppose that you would know. I saw you beat her with your fist, multiple times. I heard her scream out.
And so, little devil, I must ask that you refrain from such delicious acts of wanting while in this classroom. The teachers are watching you know. I'll play with you when class is over, but for now.. For now, we must live for the now, save the hard-ons for later, and gently wipe the tears from our eyes. Indeed, we must seek out what is not written, and make it our own. And so, I imagine myself naked, unashamed and glaring into your orbs, and ask you "is this what you want? Lord knows, we all need a little inspiration now and then. So much of life is meant to be written by the pen, not by the book. And then we ask ourselves, are we really here? Is this the life that we really want? Ignoring our own sense of selflessness, we journey in search of something more. I am simply a son, or daughter, searching for my own answer to life. Will I find it? Who knows. But dear little devil, I'll be sure to watch you watch me, as I travel upon these open landscapes and sunny skies. And when it rains, I'll be glad that Mother Nature has given me a name...
And so you jot down your last little tidbit of love, and hand in such a hungry sheet. No one will know if you are truly within reach.
Your eyes hunger for more then just this...
Delightfully wicked with a heart painted on silver glass...
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