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Saturday, December 18th, 2004
9:32 pm


My name is Nikole, I'm 15...I wrote this...yeah umm, tell me what you think :)<3

Rain Drop KissesCollapse )

current mood: blah

4 wish it was theirs... ...this is mine
Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
5:39 am

new short story.

click me.Collapse )

...this is mine
Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
12:46 am - Goodbye, Horses: Intermezzo, Part 2

The bar was dusty, old, on the outskirts of town.

The hardwood floor seemed like it had needed a sanding down and refinishing some years back, as if just walking barefoot, I'd come up with splinters embedded deep within the soles of my feet. The walls had a dark and slick look to them: I imagined that they would be sickly sticky to the touch. A stale scent of death pervaded. I slowly made my way to the bar and saw a man, presumably the bartender, with a rather large hole in his head.
continuedCollapse )

current mood: contemplative
...this is mine
12:40 am - Goodbye, Horses : Intermezzo, Part 1

I tried, I tried so hard to move on. I knew that I had to.

But my heart, oh, it was the weight of the world.

I was pathetic.

It was the most agonizing experience, to be so alone, so truly, and completely alone, after being so utterly content, to the point where you forgot that it was the end of the world. Could one imagine it? Could one fathom? To have your entire world taken, watch the earth crumble before you, see everyone and everything that was important to you turn to rot and death and then dust?

And then, when it couldn't get any worse, it doesn't!

You meet someone, you realize that you are not alone, and not only that, you meet that one person that you were born to be with; you share these brief but stupendously perfect moments, you share experiences you know that no other human being could ever experience, and you fall asleep utterly in love.

And you wake up, and it's all been taken way from you.

You are alone, again, in a sea of death, with only the memory of her eyes to comfort you.

You begin to grow mad, as the days progress, you lay in bed, unable to do anything. unable to move, to feed yourself, to do that which is utterly necessary to do to meet your most basic needs.

This is what I encountered for the next few days.

I tried, oh how I tried, to get myself going.

At one point, I got up, tear stained, head swollen with sorrow, brain sore and groggy, pressing against my skull, and through the pain, I drove.

I got as far as El Paso before I pulled into a bar, and, shaking, knowing I shouldn't, I tried to drink it all away.

Three years of sobriety down the drain.

* * * * * * *
...this is mine
Monday, August 2nd, 2004
8:32 pm

Originally Posted 3 August 2003.

Copyright JJM 2003

And when the stars began to lose their light,
and the heavier molecules, the uranium, the tungsten,
even carbon and silicates, began to degrade into
individual electrons and protons, those that had
descended from mankind had still not had the most
basic Question answered for them.
moreCollapse )
...this is mine
8:27 pm - Tommy and Hash : The Compleat Prequel

hereCollapse )
...this is mine
Monday, April 5th, 2004
9:50 pm - out of reach

-Sage knew it was a risk to bring him here. This spot, her spot, was so sacred to her. She thought maybe he would want to share a moment or two with her here. Alone. He had to love her now right? He had drived the six hours to be with her, if only for a little while. Even though he hadn't said it, he had to feel it. The only thing was, this place where she had brought him was a place for romance. If he charmed her, Sage may not be able to say "no" this time. This time could be the one time. The first time. But she loved him, without a doubt. None. She owed him this. Didn't she?

Read more...Collapse )

current mood: contemplative
...this is mine
Monday, December 29th, 2003
1:47 am




A serial story based in a world turned upside down about a
Journalist who finally gets the break he desires.



...this is mine
Sunday, February 9th, 2003
3:17 am
innocencefades [no touch; follow directions]
[1] [2] [3]

to use one of these, or one of the other 9 icons i made go here --> greyhearted and follow directions. they're not hard, comment, credit, stuff like that. i just want to keep track of things and it's eaiser to send you all to that journal instead of looking at about 10 journals with god knows how many posts and tryign to keep up with all that.

sorry for cross-posting
Tuesday, January 7th, 2003
1:37 pm - story ch. 04

it's been sometime, but i finally got influenced enough to write another chapter. read on, hope someone enjoys it. this one's a litte different.

ok, what now?Collapse )

1 wish it was theirs... ...this is mine
Sunday, November 24th, 2002
1:39 am

is Lost
shipwrecked in its
hanging on to
its own
...this is mine
Friday, November 22nd, 2002
4:31 am

I lay there, with my eyes wide open, trying not to focus on the heavy arm draped across my chest. His deep, resonating snores force my attention to it. I sigh and attempt to free myself from his loving prison. I am unsuccessful.

He mutters something incoherent and tightens his grip on me, dragging my unwilling body closer to him, even as I try to get further away. He flings a leg over mine, effectively pinning me to the bed. A small, diamond-bright tear runs down my cheek. He's suffocating me with his embrace.

With a quick rush of energy, I pull myself free, ignoring his unconscious utterance of confusion. I slowly, blindly, walk into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder what has happened to me. Rashly, I grab my manicure scissors, raggedly cutting the hair he loved so much. Brushing my newly chopped hair free of any loose hairs, I return to our bedroom and grab a few things.

Before I know what is happening, I'm in the car, racing down the road at speeds any traffic cop would love to catch me driving at. Before I realize where I'm going, I'm there. I stop, take a deep breath, and open my eyes. I am back to where I had started.

I lay my head on my steering wheel and sob. When had life gotten like this? When had Prince Charming turned into your Everyday Joe? When did my life become like everyone else's? When did I become so weak?

Slowly, my sobs fade into hiccups. With a shaky hand I wipe my tear-stained cheeks, and check my reflection. I bitterly laugh at my hair, as I try to figure out a way to fix it. I stop, and give up hope, when I realize there is no way to fix it. I'll just have to be patient.

It'll grow back, I say to myself as I break into my loving prison, quietly accepting the hand Fate had given me.

(just a short note...hi to all!)

current mood: awake
...this is mine
Monday, November 11th, 2002
7:16 pm - Every Passing Moment.

Mornings are the worst. I wake up, and though the day is different, though my thoughts are the same. This isn't me, this isn't my life. And inevitable, I manage the strength and courage to roll out of bed, a custom-made king size, no spare expense, and trudge ever so slowly towards the bathroom. My hand outstretched for the switch, I prepare for the assault on my eyes, while simultaneously drawing water into the sink. My vision adjusted, I splash the water on my face, and run my fingers over my square, rugged jaw. I grab the razor, a gold heirloom of course, and envision myself slicing my throat. Another day.

Morning toiletries taken care of, I wander, quicker now, towards the closet. $2000 Prada shoes, $4000 Armani suit, 100% silk Armani ties, none of it meaningful. Yet these things somehow defined my existence. Sickened, I dress quickly, and envision myself tightening my corporate garrote so tightly, as I might choke myself. Lacking such conviction to be my own demise, I quickly go through the well-practiced motions of a double-windsor, and prepare to descend into the kitchen.

The smell of coffee overwhelms my sense. Oh, no rapture greater than coffee in the morning. Coffee maker with a timer. My favorite possession. Only $45. Resisting the temptation to plunge my hand into the pot, I pour some of the import Arabica cafe, and sit down in my Italian leather seat. A wall street journal in hand. Stocks down. Record losses. Another day, another worry. Already the sweat began to form on my neck. Cigarette in hand, I reach for my collectible Zippo, and light. Sweet nicotine in my blood, my heart accelerating, warm euphoric feelings. Done with that, the stress again creeps into view.

Keys. Car. Freeway. Gridlock. The pain in the back of my head slowly creeping forward, only the thought of smashing my head into the windshield calms my nerves. Sleeve rolled-up, I put the cigarette out on my arm. The trail of self-mutilation visible, I hurriedly pull my sleeve down, and light another cigarette.

The sea of cars unmoving, I venture to look at my fellow commuters. Always, without fail, they are seen with their electronic tethers, to their ear, invariably speaking of trivial matters. Little Timmy played well at his game. Lady, Little Timmy is bipolar, wears woman's underwear, and dissects neighborhood animals in your basement. He needs help, not organized sports.

And it continues. Seeing all, the world oblivious to my agony. This is individualism. This is manifest destiny. The decay of society is sickening. I pass the excess, the self-absorption, and it takes all my energies to keep from vomiting. Thrust into a situation over which I have no control, dancing in the ashes of the natural world.

God created man. Man destoyed God. Man became God. Man creates life. Man destroys itself. I am man. I am God. I see all, control all, destroy all. The end is drawing nigh, and I am the only witness.

A sign with my name. Always a parking spot in front. I stop, pull in, and shut off my vehicle. Composing myself, I prepared for what lay ahead. I opened the front door of the office building, and entered. The Feng Shui nightmare assaulted my eyes. Underpaid, crammed, my little sardines typing, faxing, filing, making me ever richer. Making way to my office, I reply to the sniveling syncophants with the usual pleasantries. Never has a smile hurt so much.

I opened my office door, and spent several minutes removing the screws from my false countenance. The secretary gives a funny look. I lit another cigarette. No smoking sir, company policy. I am the company. I throw the cigarette down with disgust, and shut my door.

A pile of memorandums. I skim them, and toss them aside. I open the to drawer. A sniff later, and I'm not feeling so down. I notice the rubber-grip handle, the silver barrel.


Meetings. False smiles. Firm handshakes, ass-smacks, and enough bullshit spewed to fertilize a third world country.

My office. Another cigarette. Another stern warning.

Another snort.

Rubber handle more tempting.

6 barrels. 1 bullet.

A spin.

A pull. Snap!

Another time

Deep thoughts over cigarettes and coffee.

Small-talk at water cooler.

Every passing moment we're living life to what is expected.

Rubber-grip. .38


A spin.

Trigger pull. Snap!

I'll try my luck.

Trigger pull. Snap!

I am a God.

Trigger pull.

...this is mine
12:29 pm

Carve away.
Oops, too much.
Now nothing.

The warmth that soothes us is the same warmth that kills us.
...this is mine
Tuesday, October 29th, 2002
2:20 am

chapter 3Collapse )

...this is mine
Thursday, October 17th, 2002
2:00 pm - hey all.

6:44 pm. Oct 13. 2002

I am controlled.
Let out of my cage..
heart singing too much
It's more then i can bare.
I want you to know
that i'm running away
It's too much to take.
I stand at the side of the road
waking up, waking up
I'm at the brink
and it's crumbling down
am i flying?
It's more then i can bare.
Choked back by the leash and drowning
in you.
I can't stand at the edge anymore..
Can't stand not knowing
if i should fly, fall, crash, or burn.
I'm tired..
It's more then i can bare, tonight.

current mood: relaxed
1 wish it was theirs... ...this is mine
Wednesday, October 9th, 2002
11:56 am
innocencefades after not being able to write anything forever, this is what i have to show. no offence kelly, but what's happened to you?Collapse )

current mood: disappointed
...this is mine
Tuesday, October 8th, 2002
12:45 am
innocencefades ok, i changed the layout and everything. i think it's the best layout i've made, period. so all of you give me your opinion on it. this is a community after all, and your thoughts count as well.

current mood: accomplished
8 wish it was theirs... ...this is mine
Monday, October 7th, 2002
2:07 pm
innocencefades bah, i was tamporing with copywrite's layout and i think i messed up a bit, lol.
i'm going to make a new layout for it, meanwhile you'll um..kinda have to scroll to the right a bit, heh.
i'm sorry you guys.


current mood: guilty
...this is mine
Friday, October 4th, 2002
12:54 pm

Claustrophobia is especially fun with you
Being smothered by another person is great fun with you
I'm always happy when I'm with you
Except when I'm sad with you
I'm never anywhere but with you

Can I stay with you?

Forever is such a long time.

current mood: confused
...this is mine
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