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This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
 Tenora · Fri Apr 11, 2008 @ 07:49am · 2 Comments |
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A girl called Lucifer-an exerpt from another story i wrote |
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Tis’ a cold day, the wind all ‘a blusterin’ about like a wild tempest, and the sky’s all dark and angry like’. But a fine day, surely, truly. I always got along well with the wind an’ rain. It’s abou’ luncheon time, I AM hungry, but not so hungry as to be all out beggin’ in the streets, or stealin’ from the stands, neither. And surely I do not want to go home. That place be like a hell holdin’ demons, all yellin’ an’ swearin’ an’ the like. Them bein’ me Ma and Pa o’ course. So, ‘tis best to go hungry, I s’pose.
They yell for many reasons, for we be a poor family and with me the only child, with no brother workin on the farm well, me Pa is put under alota ‘stress’ as he says. Part of me bein a girl, is that “I’m no good fo’ work” So, they says I’ma’ curse. That’s the reason they named me…Lucifer. It’s a nice name for a boy an’ all but… you know, except for bein’ the name o’ the devil.
Tenora · Thu Apr 10, 2008 @ 05:07am · 0 Comments |
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who?me?- an experpt from a story i wrote |
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So you want to know who I am, do you? If only I knew…Even then, I wouldn’t tell, I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. But, because your knowledge is lacking in the area of my mind, I will attempt to fill you in as best as my will limits me.
I am weird. Or, at least, that is what anyone would say about me (including me). It doesn’t matter, it is a fact, don’t feel sorry for the weird kid…I will not take your sympathy.
I probably have the most tittles in school, then anyone you would ever meet, starting with, weird, loner, nerd, geek, goth, emo (or at least that’s what people say about me), b***h, freak, creep, skater, ‘book worm’, ‘silent type’, ‘quick to anger’, stay far away from, do not approach under any circumstances, to lame to talk with or make eye contact with, pathetic, loser. Just to name a few.
On the outside, according to my ‘family’- A happy child, with depression, anxiety, smart (but not smart enough to get even a C average), loud mouth, trouble maker, nasty tempered.
My ‘family’, knows nothing about me, nothing. They do not know where I sit, and type these words, or what I feel…or even if I feel. Doesn’t matter. As long as I give them my fake identity, they will think I am sane, which, I am not.
For all you know mother, I am in my room, working on my ‘homework’.
But, the fact remains, I am not. And you know nothing about me. Nothing at all. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing…
Tenora · Wed Apr 09, 2008 @ 07:32am · 0 Comments |
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i feel sick... then again, i always have |
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some b*****d ran over my cat. i just got back from the animal hospital... her legs had been smashed, and her intestines were coming out of her ( i wont disclose that...). but i had never heard such pain come from an animal before, it was sickening. We had no choice but to put the poor thing to sleep.
Tenora · Tue Apr 08, 2008 @ 04:05am · 0 Comments |
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