Who were they?


The End of This SinI don't want to write. I don't want to be one of those people, who thrive for praise rare as nickels on the streets on a cold winter night. I don't want to partake in the wild goose chase of my dreams, don't want the failure and the constant rejection letters that are sure to come.The End of This Sin
I'm too simple to be a writer. I know no more than the next person in line. I have nothing to offer you. I don't have the heartbreaking anecdotes that compel you to listen, and I don't have the patience or the capacity to lie to you.
I'm tired of writing about my trite experiences, limited because I've never been anywhere. Everybody


Winter KissesIt's not the first snow of the season, but we're getting into that period in fall right near the end of October, where we're downshifting into cold nights and colder mornings, the few hours of afternoon clinging desperately to the lazy rays of sun that drift across the sky. The sun is ready for a long winter nap, but he's still got a few more weeks in the Colorado Valley.Winter Kisses
This morning, there is a kiss of predictability in the air. During the night, Mother Nature put on her sultry red lipstick and she and the Earth partook in a wild dance. She left him with the remorseful and indulgent remains of her glossy lips on the fron


Where Does Comfort Lie?Where does comfort lie?Where Does Comfort Lie?
In your heart?
In the deep, dark coves in the back of your mind? In the keypad of your pretty little cell phone? Or does it rest in the sunshine of your lover's arms?
For once, it does not lie at home, in the sanctity of your cool, pitch-black bedroom (too many haunting memories.) It does not rest in the kitchen that was once so warm and inviting (He is always there, with his innumerable glares.) It does not lie in the nonexistent car that you do not own, or in the car that you are chauffeured around in (Because they're there with you, but purposefully never saying a word.)
and your name 'sierra'? It's my favorite name, ever. xDD
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that's as bad as secondhand suicide
Yeah, it's my pretty much my favorite name, too. xD
keep writing, you've got me hooked.
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that's as bad as secondhand suicide
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we're crashing cars we used to share.
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ღ Kristina Kotarski Photography ღ
ღ My Prints ღ
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I just wanna play FPS
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They all drink lemonaaaaaaaaade.... The end!
thanks so much for
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.The day you were born you were born free, that is your privilege.
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