I once wrote something. It was when I was sad, Usually when I write at my most satisfactory state. Anyhow. Anywho. I was going through, Let's call it a 'Phase.' I liked being alone and I was always well... irritated and upset. I can not remember what I wrote word for word however I do remember the story line. Now I've finished babbling...
There was a boy so pale and quite,
His hair was dark, This caused a riot.
He got no joy to talk and babble,
His own little world in growing old bubble.
He of course acted or spoken no different,
To those of whom we're called an infant.
He wanted to leave these horrible place's,
For people who understood how to take things in pace's.
He went stroll around the tree's,
The frosted leave's and the chilly breeze.
This was abnormal,
The signs were informal.
The dark is creeping in,
A common thing...
A tree,
A loner,
A heart's desire.
He woddled towards this tree, Oh gee,
The next thing is inopropriate to see.
A shake, A scream, A cry, A dream,
Now he wasn't alone. But this, this is all to be seen. ♥

has anyone heard of a game called FeralHeart? if so, i need your help!
plz respond if you can!

Gonna try this one more time.

I'm itching for some RP. I'm kind of slow at it, but I'd love to try again. I can't guarantee how long it'll last but it'd be nice, so I can develop some of my characters further. Right now the only deer I really work with on a constant basis are Kaoori, Takeshi and Umi, but I'm willing to RP with any of my deer.

All of my deer can be found here, at my directory. As soon as I get home I'll reply to any responses I receive.

Anyone can join!

This page will be moved and divided between two pages:
About Pictograms and Pictogram Building
Please feel free to re-track there.

Pieces will go missing from here as they are moved, to help me keep my place.

What is Air Sitting?

Through all the changes of the seasons and the time we live by, we cling to what has been lost and what may be gained. We live by what is lost and found, by the time we have found something it is already lost.

I cling to ancient memories that never existed in our world as we know it, but something inside me wont let go. Every fiber of my miserable existance screams at me that I am wrong, that it is wrong, that it has always been wrong. Despite all my efforts I cling to this ancient memory that I often forget. Then I turn around and find it again and want it even more as the memory is fading.

How can I want what I never had except in brief moments in the hysteria of my mind?