am back!
Wow!Well I'm back, stuff will be coming up soon. It was weird looking back on my stuff - havn't put pencil to paper in nearly a year - criminal I know. So forgive me if any of the stuff I put up's a bit weak!!!
Blackberry PickingThey had gone blackberry picking. It was the perfect time to go, a clear warm Sunday morning in September, the brambles along forest paths dripping with ripe berries. They skipped Church to go, thinking that on a day like this, where there were thousands of blackberries in the morning might be an empty place by midday. In their hurry to begin, rushing along past the pond and down the winding paths into the thick of the forest, they forgot one of the plastic bags needed to collect the berries in. Not wanting to delay the others, the mother and her daughter decided to share the largest bag, working together as a team to fill it first. The motheBlackberry Picking
Innocent PyroIncompleteIts not that there was a problem, because there wasn’t, but there might have been, and that it itself was problematic. It had been neatly averted, although narrowly might have in fact have been a better world, which did not inspire confidence in the concerned parties at all. Things weren’t to be like that. A problem was never narrowly averted, mainly because it was never averted at all. It wasn’t even faced head on. Problems just never happened. That is, of course, until now. And that knowledge was very problematic. Nobody was quite sure how the problem that wasn’t but could have even came to be, of course. Some people said one thing, oIncomplete
ForgottenForgottenForgotten
Nobody ever said anything about it. The knowledge of what happened, however, did not go away, just because it was all kept hidden. The tree did not forget, although it had never been told, and had only ever seen a part of the story. Neither did the road, that lead to the field, which also kept its secrets. The pond, in which the bicycle now rusts, will never say a word, not even to the bulrushes that have grown up around it in recent years. The insects that took part in the aftermath are now all dead – killed my frogs, fishes and human hands.
It was a sad affair. Everything knew that. They all watched from
--
ahh
greets lotte
--
send in the clowns!
--
Mesmerize the simple minded
Propaganda leaves us blinded
--
-L-
--
Sparrows Dive into the Water Turning into Clams
Looks like u also a pencil artist too...!!
Keep it up n brush up ur skill!!
--
Juz caLL me CACING^^
人人都叫我嘉进=CACING!
--
and the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love, and the reason i do not fall into this street is love.
-e.e. cummings
Previous Page12Next Page