bubblewrapped

RE-EDIT: I was formerly involved in politics, sir, because my father wished it, and because it was an acceptable occupation for a man of my station. I, however, have always ...

Scrambled eggs, miss, and a bit of toast, same as everyone else. ~ Annie Larkin When you're sick or sad, or just feeling down, what do you do to cheer ...

Yeah, so...the other day, right, I was walking down the road, you know? Going to the dairy. And, like, this GUY, he, well, you know, appeared out of nowhere. Like, ...

Remembered? Me? Begging your pardon, miss, but nobody remembers folk like me. ~ Annie Larkin What would be the most perfect gift you could ever receive (on any occasion)?

A sparrow. Nobody takes much notice of sparrows. ~ Nicholas If you could ask someone one question and have it answered truthfully, who would you ask and what would the ...

Home. God, yes. If I could get out of here, go anywhere I liked, I'd go home. That is, if they'd take me. ~ Nicholas Who is/was your best friend?

I said I disagree, although I'm pretty much still on the fence with this one, because the way I see it there are two parts to school. There's the learning, ...

Well, since the throwing up part has already been covered, I shall try to help with the phrasing-it-tactfully part. What sort of story are you writing? Is it in first ...

ROTFLMAO. You rock TBR. I'm going to start a SAVE THE HOTDOGIANS organization now O:) :lol:

Well, that depends. Firstly, let me say that I have a terrible bias against writers who describe things all in one hit like that. It irritates me greatly. No offense, ...

To be perfectly honest, I have mixed feelings about this poem. I loved the first two stanzas; the link between the jewels and honesty, chance, etc. was cleverly done and ...

I deal in colours, beauty, dreams; to you go the spoils of the intellectual mind - I take what is left. In other words I sleep my life away beneath ...

Significant would probably be a misnomer. I only keep him around because he's useful and he looks good. What? I havent time for a serious relationship right now. And anyway ...

mine were the hands that held you down, that drowned you in a sea of night – mine were the hands that held you close, and let them hurt you. ...

What is a dying cliche? Do you mean, did "I" die in the end of the poem? If so, no. What I meant was that self-mutliation (i.e. hurting myself) could ...