shortnvague

The girl in the corner laughs and smiles with the rest of them and maybe even laughs a little harder She listens to everything that everybody says; tries to appreciate everyone and every little thing tries to love everyone But sometimes her eyes go dead because she remembers that she doesn't believe in love No matter how hard she tries she can't summon up any faith she would rather believe in unicorns At least they never let her down

you, you, you like all the right statuses. that's why you're my facebook love. you, you, you post the funniest photos. you make me smile, my facebook love. you, you, you, write the best comments ever let's run away, my facebook love we can go to myspace we can go to twitter we can go to my place word that rhymes with twitter but no one uses myspace and I don't like twitter so let's just stay on facebook glitter? fitter? bitter? don't, don't, don't judge me I don't know what I'm doing. please don't unfriend me just because I have a facebook love and I wanna show it off facebook love and he makes me, makes me, makes m

I'm sorry for insulting you like that. I didn't think that one through: and I didn't mean it, it just seemed like the thing to say at the time. I'm sorry if I look at you for a moment too long sometimes instead of actually talking to you like a normal girl would. I'm sorry if I'm apologizing for things you hadn't noticed, and I'm sorry if I'm apologizing too much. . . . . Wait a minute. I don't even like you. What am I sorry for? You should be the one apologizing for being cute when nobody asked you to. So go ahead and say what you like about me. It's none of your business what I think of you, sweetheart.

I'm making you a mixtape and I think it's gonna fix me I'm making you a mixtape and I don't know why I'm making you a mixtape and it's just because I want you I'm making you a mixtape cause there's nothing else to do. and this mixtape is gonna be so freaking fantastic this mixtape is gonna be everything I want this mixtape is gonna be everything that's you and me this mixtape is gonna be my entire being.

maybe it's just me but I wouldn't trust me as much as you do. you don't know. I could be anything. or anybody and you wouldn't know cause you don't know me and I don't know you. you could be anything you could be a monster and I wouldn't know cause I don't even know you. I don't trust me as much as you do. I could be anything and I wouldn't even know it cause I don't know me. I mean, don't you think it's suspect the way I put on this show of being an enigma? don't you think I must have something to hide? I think so. I find it suspect the way I dodge around questions and answers and try to be all philosophical and diplom

I want to wrap my arms around you it's not enough I want to hear your heartbeat like the ocean in my ear it's not enough I want your life to close in on mine like a Venn diagram till we become one it's not enough I want to feel like girls in movies feel everything so simple and clean and talk about how screwed up we are while smiling like a Stepford wife it's not enough But this isn't a movie it's barely real life and if this is the best I can manage and if this is the most you can give it'll have to be enough it's not enough

You are the exception to every rule I've ever made that's kept me from having all that I could have. You break every law I've ever passed, defy every expectation in my mind that's been trapping me in this place. I never knew I could be this happy or have a smile for someone every day. Guess I just never knew it could be this way. I could make a list a mile long of reasons to back down and forget you exist, but logic pales next to the inevitable truth: Maybe not forever, but definitely for now, maybe not completely, but certainly somehow, I want you next to me, to hold me each and every day; you, with all your amazing flaws,

"My love is about this big," and she held up a penny between her fingers. Her love is about this rich and it's only acknowledged if it lands heads up.

Today I cried at a nature documentary.  An adolescent lioness lost her brother and sister to starvation, almost died herself, mated with a brutish lion without really wanting to, and had a stillborn litter.  But she didn't complain.  She just got up, killed and ate a runty zebra and got on with her life.  After seeing that, I vowed that I would never complain about trivial things again. It turns out I'm no lioness.  Within an hour I was getting annoyed about my brother leaving the seat up.  Humans suck.

I went up to the girl who sat in the corner and drew.  She always drew, and never danced.  It made no sense.  This was a nightclub. She didn't see me when I sat down beside her.  I tapped her on the shoulder.  She looked up, and I said, 'Hi.  What are you drawing?' She shook her head, giving me a look of helplessness, and pointed to her left ear.  I leaned right over and shouted, but she shook her head again.  Then she flipped over the page in her sketchbook, and wrote in pencil, I'm deaf. 'Is that why you don't…?'  I stopped myself. She smiled, and handed me her pencil.  I wrote, Is that why you don't dance? She nodded.  I've never

He made her watch Shrek, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Incredible Hulk, more than one Frankenstein movie, and she even cried at the end of The Iron Giant. 'Mummy,' said Billy.  'Did you understand what those films were trying to say?' 'Of course, dear.'  She smiled indulgently.  'We all know it's wrong to judge by appearances, don't we?' 'Good.'  Billy stood up, walked over to the French windows and got ready to draw back the curtains.  'In that case, I want you to meet a friend of mine.  This is Monster.' Billy's mother screamed until she could scream no more.  Then she fainted. Billy shook his head and sighed.  Then he opened the Fr

I wanted to be a detective when I was little.  I was really into the Famous Five, and Sherlock Holmes if someone would read it to me, and then as I got older it was Agatha Christie. There are times when I feel like I'm doing a good thing.  Usually when the wife/girlfriend is sobbing down the phone, calling him every name anyone has ever used to describe an unfaithful lover, and I'm nodding in agreement, thinking: That's why I do this job. When it goes the other way, I feel terrible.  I hate her for being so suspicious, so paranoid, so possessive.  I also hate myself.  It makes me think: I should not be doing this job.  As far as I know, the

'Pink for friendship.  Red for passionate love.' 'Ah… let's stick with pink for now.' 'Are you sure?' 'Yes.  I think so.' It was not a grand job, but to her it was important.  Flowers meant so much.  Love, happiness, friendship, mourning… 'Lilies are traditional.' 'She wouldn't want lilies.  She loved sunflowers.  She was such a colourful person.  She told us not to wear black.' 'That's seventy pounds ninety, please.' --- 'Look at the pretty flowers.' The little girl looked.  She soiled her hands and knees and was almost stung by a bee. 'What's that one called?' 'Bluebells.' 'What's that one called?' 'Primroses.' She

My demon is a pretty secretary with a short skirt and long nails.  She's the kind who flirts, and even sleeps with people, and messes about with the photocopier at the office party.  At least, she seems to be that type, but she generally behaves.  She loves her job.  She surrounds herself with filing cabinets, and must keep them in some kind of order, as she seems to know exactly where everything is when she wants it. 'Reception class,' she might say, slapping a file down in front of me.  I always want to look away, whichever file she chooses, but I never can.  'Age four.  Mrs Smith put you in a group with Ricky, Stephen and Ryan "because yo

It was springtime.  A leveret, just under a year old - almost old enough to be called a hare - ran through a field.  On the nearby bank a rabbit stamped, and then all of the rabbits bolted underground.  They assumed the leveret was running from a predator.  But there was nothing chasing her.  She was simply curious. ‘Grandmother!’  She skidded to an awkward halt, almost crashing into the older hare.  ‘I’ve just seen something.  Someone.  A great, enormous hare with shining eyes, and the biggest legs you ever saw!  He must run like the wind!’ Her grandmother was unfazed.  She chewed and swallowed a mouthful of grass

I was dancing like a loon to my headphones in the middle of the night and then I wanted to write about how much I loved the sound, the melody, the words (all the music I love has words). The other day we watched an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. It made us watch another, and get out my cheap little paperback to read. When Alice talked to the Cheshire Cat - looking up into the tree, with her hands behind her back - I remembered sitting at that table in Granny’s house, colouring that very scene in a colouring book, and we both remembered her museum-piece hardbacks from which she read aloud. She read to us a lot. An im