:: Purposeful Death Overhead ::

Yesterday, My Mottled Feet Kissed the Sun and Burned...
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:: Wednesday, January 05, 2005 ::





A testiment to the last hours of Adolescence


I am not yet born


Frank, The dirary thereof

"for in it's innermost depths, youth is lonlier than old age"

"...in spite of everything I believe people are really good at heart"

- Written at the age of fifteen



I am not born, but am scared of death

I breathe
Inhail memories, experiance
Guilt trips, tears
Shame
Every day


I read; Romeo + Juliet, Death be Not proud, Death in Venice, Hamlet, Madame Bovary, Farewell to Arms, A Tale of Two Cities, Cyrano de Bergerac, Confessions of a Mask, Picture of Dorian Grey, The Soldier who Fell From Grace with the Sea, Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf, All Quiet on the Western Front, Crime and Punishment, Animal Farm, Antigone, As I Lay Dying, Count of Monte Christo, Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Death of A Salesman, Flowers For Algernon, The Great Gatsby, Hedda Gabler, The Killer Angels, Medea, The Trial, The Metamorphases, Macbeth, Of Mice and Men, Our Town, A Streetcar Named Desire, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Where the Red Fern Grows
B R A V E N E W W O R L D

I wish.
I sing, I live.
I die.
It is the Point of No Return.

:: Alina 12:27 AM Comments: Post a Comment

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