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Young Writers Society


I'm still breathing.


As If The Coldplay Quotes Don't Tell You Enough

It is the 8th of Feburary, 2015. My twelvie years have since passed and a lot has changed. Although my activity here is barely breathing, I still pop in every blue moon. I have some great memories from this place and still hold dear some of the friendships I've formed here and if the opportunity presents itself I'd love to rekindle some of those friendships through other internet means.

I still write original stuff every now and then and keep threatening to do nanowrimo. Poetry continues to be my mistress of the night, and procrastination kills me.

For lack of more to say, I guess I might or might not see you around.

- love noni.

As many of you know, I am the resident not-present ninja to YWS who has a love of poetry. A regular site in chat, I'm rather friendly and willing to promise reviews that you'll have to constantly bug me about or I'll forget. You can also see me in the debates section trying to commit serious posts in religious discussions, doing my best to present a healthy and happy front for atheism.
I've been on YWS for 18 months as of December 10 2012 and have since discovered a love of poetry. Though I do spend many hours procrastinating on working on novels, I have managed to post a few forgotten chapters as well as the odd short story or lyric. Plenty of poetry though!
I am also commonly seen with my two fellow Ninjateers, AnnieBauthor and Payne. We even have a theme song, just check my signature!
My YWS blog hasn't seen a post since mid-last year, though I do have a more often (though still rarely) updated blog. It's the one listed under Website. Be sure to check it out and pester me about posting on it. :)
Anyways, love you all and feel free to spam my wall! <3


Interests

Books, spy movies, pie, 80's music, Coldplay, writing poetry, karate, piano and guitar playing, YWS!

Occupation

Character In Training

Website

http://manywordstogo.wordpress.com/


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien