Comments Posted By Emma

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Wealth is always something that I picture making me happy in the end. I know this is not true but it’s the not having it and being miserable that makes me feel that maybe there is something to having wealth and being happy.

» Posted By Emma On 01.07.2009 @ 1:34 pm


I only just wrote about this one yesterday. I have only wasted a minute writing something else though so no harm done.

» Posted By Emma On 01.06.2009 @ 3:40 am

Only once will I ever be here. Only once will we ever have this chance to see the moon over look the sea from this balcony. Only once can we ever listen to the sounds of the ocean beat upon this shore. Only once will you have this chance to kiss me.

» Posted By Emma On 01.05.2009 @ 3:11 pm

I only have 60 seconds to write something and that isn’t very long for a perfectionist like me who feels that there musn’t be any grammar mistakes and all my typing must be accurate. Life can be difficult when you only have 60 seconds.

» Posted By Emma On 01.05.2009 @ 2:44 pm


HOLY. CRAP. How could this possibly be happening? I know he’s watching me. I can feel his perfect eyes staring, burning two holes into the back of my head. But he’s not looking, he’s watching. He’s not looking at the braid I did just because I hoped he’d notice. He’s not looking at the skirt I picked to match my sweater. He’s not looking at the nails I polished or the space near my eyebrows where stray hairs used to sit. He’s not looking at the bracelet and the earrings that my Mom picked out for me for my birthday. He’s not looking at the lipgloss or the mascara, the makeup that I hate wearing that gives me that caked-on feeling, but that I put on because I thought I’d look like his type. I can feel that he’s not looking. He’s watching. But what’s worth watching? I have no idea.

She thinks I’m not noticing the changes. Her hair. She stuffed the waves into a rubberbanded braid, but what she doesn’t know is that I like it down just fine. She’s wearing makeup, too. Something on her lips, for sure, and on her eyelashes. But she doesn’t look like Mary. She looks like, I don’t know, every other girl in this school. She’s wearing a blue skirt with a sweater that looks kind of like my grandma’s, and she probably doesn’t like either of them. I think she thought that’s how she was supposed to dress. But I miss the yoga pants. The ones she looks so comfortable in, the ones she feels at home when she’s wearing. So yes, I see the makeup and the jewelery and the skirt. But I see Mary underneath it all, and I wish more than anything that she wasn’t buried down there beneath layers of black mascara and blue cashmere. So most days, I see. But today, I watch. I watch the way her finger holds the pen and glides it across the page, creating the words she’s so proud of, the writing she loves so much. Today, I have to stop seeing to see her.

» Posted By Emma On 04.09.2010 @ 10:24 am

this easter was the nearest we got to a holy celebration.
me and my boyfriend.
easter is a pagan festival of fertility, right?
vaguely religious I’m sure.

» Posted By emma On 04.08.2010 @ 12:07 pm


The fingerprints on the table were strangely-colored. Each was a different shade of pink- the ones on the left, at least. The right-hand fingerprints all glowed in soft rainbow colors.

It was the strangest thing, Detective Silverston thought, puffing at his pipe. He’d never seen anything like it. But then, in this job, he was used to that.

At least a man with rainbow fingers would be easy to sight.

» Posted By emma On 04.02.2009 @ 11:54 pm

The fingerprint glued to the piece of card was Amys only memory of her mother, as her mother had ran away to America when she was small. Police knew she was safe,free and alive but they didnt know where she was. The fijngerprint was taken from the bedroom wall where they had lived at the time of the mother dissaperarencs.

» Posted By EMMA On 04.02.2009 @ 11:46 pm


I sit in the subway station next to some guy who really needs a shower. I’m never going back. I can’t take any more of this madness that is ruining my life, my soul! I have little food, money, and clothing but I’m going to have to make due, start a new life. And it will all start here at the subway.

» Posted By emma On 03.25.2009 @ 5:52 pm


Sticking to my hands, I pull off what looks to be a lifetime supply of tape. Taking down posters has been like a wake up call to me; I’m actually moving, leaving my friends behind. My entire life is being thrown away, just like the tape that is clinging to my hands, but being pulled away as I throw it in the garbage.

» Posted By Emma On 03.24.2009 @ 5:33 pm

the tape fell out of his hand as he stared at the words written on the small white label. this wasn’t something he’d ever expected to see again, he’d thought for the longest time that it was gone forever, that the memory was gone forever. but it wasn’t gone, it was here. and he didn’t know how he felt about that. did he really want the memory the tape held?

» Posted By emma On 03.23.2009 @ 3:15 pm


I stare at them in awe. A reward. They are giving the reward to me, because it is the one day i actually did my homework.Well I’ve definitely learned that doing homework pays off.

» Posted By emma On 03.23.2009 @ 12:54 pm

I sighed. The fact that my mom was out partying as I sat there writing an English essay was just totally unfair. The prompt I had to use was completely pointless, I mean it’s not like our school would ever actually make us wear uniforms, that’s just what teachers always make you write about when they can’t come up with anything else. Lazy butts. So of course, being the procrastinator that I am, I minimize it and start blasting Lily Allen. There’s just something about British people that intrigues me. Her music curses a lot, but when I got hooked into that phase, that didn’t matter.
Music is my life. That and my friend Cerise are about the only two things that keep me from getting depressed and cutting myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to go commit suicide or something. I just get pissed off really easily, especially when people don’t take me seriously. Take my mother, for example. Every time she brings home one of her gay ass friends from work, they talk about things that have never happened. And I really mean this; I sometimes think I’m going crazy. For instance, my mom says she got her job at the insurance company, which she is now CEO of, by bringing me to a party when I was a toddler. Apparently, the boss thought I was so adorable that he decided to hire her. This is all wrong. Well, except for the part about me being adorable, that was true of course. But I specifically remember being dropped off at my neighbor’s house that night. The main reason I remember this all so clearly is because that was the day I got my first boyfriend. I know we were only a couple years old, but I’m telling you we connected. His name was Nathaniel, and he was the best thing that had ever happened to me up to that point in my life. My ignorant mother says she does not recall ever knowing a boy of that name. Liar. We moved shortly after that though, so I never again saw my Nathaniel.
Only Cerise believes me when I tell her about this. She is the only person who takes my whining, even if we are entirely different. She has brown hair, with faded blonde-red highlights, and is basically scene. I, on the other hand, have short, choppy blonde hair, good grades, and have never kissed a boy.

» Posted By Emma On 03.22.2009 @ 4:49 pm


The chest was locked. He knew, because he tried to open it. What was in it, he mused. He knew his mother had kept the chest away, far away, from the family up in the attic for years. But when he tried to ask her about it, she would clam up and tell him not to bring up the past. But he was so…curious. Maybe if his older sister Kate hadn’t dared him that he couldn’t guess what was in it…although she didn’t know either. He knew.

» Posted By emma On 03.19.2009 @ 11:24 am


crowing with laughter after one too many. I’m certainly never going to be able to drink diserrano and coke again. it was especially awkward as i knew NO ONE.

» Posted By emma On 04.07.2010 @ 4:49 am

The crow in the night, the crow in the night. Her calling is sweet and desperate, uncannily derived from my childhood past life. She screams for companionship, i know she does.

» Posted By Emma On 04.07.2010 @ 3:02 am


You’re just a fragment of my mind, to wander free.

» Posted By Emma On 04.08.2010 @ 3:50 am


I honestly wake up early and dream about trees. I love bacon and pineaapple. the early bird… Imagine what would happen if the bird didn’t wake up early. what a shame that would be. toast and eggs… yummy. yawm.

» Posted By Emma On 09.22.2009 @ 6:38 pm


Paintbrush. It can paint us such a pretty picture, anything our imagination dreams up for us. Hopes, smiles, old memorys. A paintbrush is a magic wand. But sometimes we can paint our most inner thoughts, spilling them over the canvas. Not always happy. But always, a picture. And we have to smile at our creation.

» Posted By Emma On 09.17.2009 @ 9:20 pm


Sitting there in the corner, was an object. A person? It was hard to distinguish, but it looked like a little girl, dressed in a white ragged dress. Her head was down, and she was sobbing gently. I crept towards her slowly, unsure of what to do.

» Posted By Emma On 09.13.2009 @ 5:11 am

The meeting of two edges, the point of intersection… there are a lot of corners in the man-made world, but not many in the natural one. It’s a lot easier to live in the corner than on the edge

» Posted By Emma On 09.12.2009 @ 10:48 am


i’m not logical. at all. days pass in huge rushes and i think of how much sense i make of the world and it turns out that no. i am not logical. i make mistakes and i can’t figure anything out. my brain goes whoooosk down the drain and i am made of out of polyp hearts. illogical. illogical.

» Posted By emma On 09.11.2009 @ 11:31 am


It took many many days and even more effort to coax her out of it, but eventually the shrinking violet was made to come out of her shell. And oh! How she blossomed, the once quiet loner now a social butterfly. Many felt the change to be for the better, but what did she think? One may never know, she could be cursing it every day for all we know…

» Posted By Emma On 09.10.2009 @ 12:30 pm


i’m anxious to see if my parents will actually invade my privacy. they’ve always respected it, but i’m away now and anything is possible. i’m also anxious to see where this relationship will go with the Parisian. he’s beautiful and far away.

» Posted By emma On 09.08.2009 @ 8:50 am


I hadn’t meant to do it. I wasn’t sure what came over me. It was like a weird compulsion and that it was ‘meant’ to be. Looking back it all seems so stupid but it still haunts me.

I will never know why I decided to buy that lime green shell suit.

» Posted By Emma On 01.05.2009 @ 5:16 am


The toast was already burnt to a crisp by the time he presented it to her.He had tried to mask the black under a mountain of butter. She looked at his face as he handed her the plate, a goofish smile played on his lips and she melted.

» Posted By Emma On 12.18.2008 @ 11:30 am


THIS MAKES ME THINK OF BIKES. THAT’S JUST THE FIRST THING I THOUGHT OF. I RODE BIKES ALOT WHEN I was oh shit caps lock was on. ok, I rode bikes a lot when I was a kid, it was just what me and my siblings did. then in middle school i wanted to ride my bike again but it wasn’t cool anymore

» Posted By emma On 12.09.2008 @ 12:21 pm


purple means like awake and stuff food i dunno!!! lol interested, and alert.

» Posted By emma On 07.11.2009 @ 2:15 am


the river styx, crossing… wondering, if the travel involves mind, body, soul, love… or just dreams… I think, and hope it’s the whole… What do you think? Maybe I should consider the possibilities of the journey, crossing waters, any waters, of time, space and love.

» Posted By Emma On 06.30.2009 @ 3:51 am


You wear them at theseaside to protect your feet there are beach or seaside tyoe of show to wear . they keep ur feet nice and cool and they are very comfortable .

» Posted By Emma On 06.27.2009 @ 6:33 am

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