I've noticed that there is a high possibility that the majority of people, who don't share my beliefs, may actually believe that I think I'm better than them.
This is not true.
Please stop talking at me whenever I bring up something that obviously parallels my beliefs and not your disbelief. I don't even have to say anything that is directly insulting you, I just have to say something that merely suggests my faith, and people suddenly seem to act like I struck them with a hammer so act 'Woe is me...you brought up faith so I must defend my disbelief and make it clear I don't agree!'
I don't go to people who I know would watch me, if I was
It’s the memory that counts.
The once upon a time, that someone loved you.
Or at least made you feel that way.
You can erase all the pain and sadness eventually.
Happy thoughts turned bitter can be happy once more.
Not everything has to be bad.
Maybe he can’t be there for you anymore.
Maybe you will never laugh or cry together again.
Or maybe, just maybe one day you can.
I think its okay to remember what made him smile.
Let the thought of his smile touch you.
And smile, because he still smiles too.
Breathe, be strong, everything will be okay.
Life is still life, and you can still love.
Even if he doesn’t love y
Trains and Dolls and Spinning Tops,
The youth won't last forever.
Houses, Toys and Teaparties,
The girl is much too clever.
The innocence behind those eyes,
Was it ever truely real?
To try and reach her, Make the contact,
Uncover what those eyes conceal.
But the girl will stand,
All on her own.
As she slices her wrist,
For reasons unknown.
Her breakdown, In front,
Of the mirrors reflection.
Shattered glass, Hits the ground,
She's so used to rejection.
But she rolls down her sleeve,
And covers the skin.
She will wait for this cycle,
To again re-begin.
Once upon a time, a young woman was so in love with books that she decided she wanted to become a writer so she, too, could create loveable stories. She read everything she could about writing. Then, one day, she found herself in a book store where she bumped into an old man among the shelves. Turning to apologize, she discovered it was a venerable, much-loved author.
As soon as she could find her voice to speak, she said, "Oh, sir! I know you are very busy, and so I would just like to ask you one small question: what is the best piece of advice you have for a beginning writer?"
The old man smiled and said, "Certainly, young lady. In fact,