Comments Posted By Fi
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 33 Comments
feta, white creamy and tart…..a glass of wine, some sunshine, warmth and the sound of a breeze rustling through the leaves…..total peace,complete contentment
» Posted By Fi On 12.30.2014 @ 8:24 pm
Shots rang through the battlefield. The young soldier hurtled away from the front line, friend swung over his shoulder like a sand bag. Blood matted his movements, until he was little more than crawling. He felt the arm roped around his neck grow colder.
» Posted By Fi On 08.30.2014 @ 5:45 am
She looked right in to the place where its eyes would be. The wings on its assumed shoulder blades beat air into the young girl’s face, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. Both the gusts of wind and the divine beauty made her want to turn her head, she did not feel worthy, but she could not help herself.
» Posted By Fi On 08.29.2014 @ 2:33 am
There are several at every head of each of the world’s nations. They are faces. Personnalities. White teeth and sympathizing words. Like shepherds, too many of them trying to find a niche of flock. Morals of gold, and often they are too, but Europe’s have been having a field day.
Italy’s president was a mafioso womanizer.
France’s has moved to Beligium.
Russia’s is closing his gates to America and opening them to tax invaders.
And Germany’s is of the wrong gender.
The newer religion, the mentality and life size game of chess. We are pawns, whether we realize it or not.
» Posted By fi On 01.09.2013 @ 3:03 pm
We both love the same things. Theatre, mostly. Harry Potter. Just, everything. We’re nerds, but we are together, and I hope we always will be. We are both the same person. Nice and awkward, but in a good amount :) I just…really love him. A lot.
» Posted By Fi On 12.03.2012 @ 7:40 pm
Wearing only one earring, in your left ear, is supposedly a kind of hankie code for your face. Of course, it probably isn’t. Or isn’t anymore. Damn gentrification ruins everything great, like flophouses and anonyomous sex is bathrooms. Ultimately, though, if it counts as a “statement piece” it probably was no good for signalling buttxsex.
» Posted By Fi On 04.18.2012 @ 10:03 am
sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me….is that right? not sure….doesnt really make sense because words will always hurt. It’s called insults and they will stay with you for the rest of your life. Thats how serial killers are made.
» Posted By Fi On 07.18.2011 @ 5:54 am
The sun was baking outside and as I padded across the stone patio in my bare feet I felt a warm, wet squelch under my toes. An overripe strawberry from Mum’s garden. I hurried on, trying not to spill the lemonade.
» Posted By fi On 06.28.2011 @ 12:46 pm
Right in the very corner of the room it sits. She can’t get to it because the television’s in the way. She can’t reach over it, or round it. It’s driving her mad and she barks at the red ball that’s just sat in the corner, mocking her.
» Posted By fi On 06.09.2011 @ 6:59 am
They spend your whole life hidden, propping you up, your secret structure. But once your life’s over, there the only thing that remains…
» Posted By fi On 05.11.2011 @ 12:51 pm
The track was muddy. My ankles would bend this way and that as I slipped over rocks and slid down small gullies in the path. Finally, with a thunk! I dropped the mat on the floor and began to climb…
» Posted By fi On 03.22.2011 @ 12:31 pm
Slumped and defeated he hid beneath the brambles as boots marched past: his heart keeping pace with their steps.
» Posted By fi On 02.10.2011 @ 5:43 am
The sunlight shot in from the window and bounced off the wobbly, wibbly green surface. Jack giggled with curiosity and nerves. “What was this strange thing Mummy was carrying?”
He peered at the globule in front of him, his face blinking back at him, all long and distorted. He stuck out his tongue and Dad tapped the plate. Jack was fascinated as his green face wibble wobbled along with the dessert. He giggled again in pure delight!
» Posted By fi On 02.01.2011 @ 1:10 am
Tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth, his little fingers wrapped tightly around the thick crayon, he carefully copied the letters from the page. Placing a firm dot at the end of the line he looked up and smiled. His first written sentence.
» Posted By fi On 01.31.2011 @ 5:28 am
Hiding behind a pile of papers, he swallowed another mouthful of coffee: it was too hot to drink and his brow winced. He had until the end of the day to explain what had happened…approximately one hour and counting.
» Posted By fi On 01.28.2011 @ 4:32 am
Incomprehensible. Both mathematical, scientifical and familial.
» Posted By Fi On 01.27.2011 @ 10:59 am
The boxes, that had been slowly, painfully filled over the past few weeks, were now sealed and ready to go. He looked around him: empty. Time to move on.
» Posted By fi On 01.26.2011 @ 5:59 am
Trying with all it’s might, traveling faster than anything known to man: a symbol of how far the human race has come; how great we are; how knowledgeable…yet to the stars it cruises past, barely moving, a mere irrelevant spec in the history of the universe.
» Posted By fi On 01.25.2011 @ 2:30 am
Finally the Rubix Cube was finished. She sat back in the chair and let it rest in her lap. Gazing down at her accomplishment she was struck by a sadness at how dismal and ordinary the plastic cube now looked with its regimented coloured sides.
» Posted By Fi On 01.24.2011 @ 8:09 am
The rock carving gentle crimson lines into his hands as he jammed them into another crevice. Walking his feet higher and grunting at the effort, he finally pulled a hand free to grasp the upper most and final hold. Emerging onto the earth above he grinned to his belayer, “Call that a chimney?! Mate that’s a furnace!”
» Posted By Fi On 01.23.2011 @ 11:25 am
the waves hit over and over, their numbers repeating, like the front line of an ancient battle ground, eating and grinding away at the cliffs as the beach sits silently, watching, knowing.
» Posted By Fi On 01.21.2011 @ 4:37 am
feeling about in a blinding darkness I feel the unmistakable sticks of a spider’s legs. We both freeze: competing in our terror. Then my hand is empty and the darkness laughs a deep, yawning giggle that keeps pace with my drumming heart.
» Posted By Fi On 01.20.2011 @ 7:14 am
Life indeed is a recipe: ingredients including people, experience, events, memories and places. The shame – or excitement, depending on your viewpoint – is that none of us are privy to the recipe before we begin mixing: no one knows how to create the perfect life; some rise better than others; some lack flavour – others have too much! What ingredients are most important to you? How will your recipe work out?
» Posted By Fi On 01.19.2011 @ 7:45 am
Life indeed is a recipe: ingredients including people, experience, events, memories and places. The shame – or excitement, depending on your viewpoint – is that none of us are privy to the recipe before we begin mixing: no one knows how to create the perfect life; some rise better than others; some lack flavour – others have too much! HOw will your recipe work out?
» Posted By Fi On 01.19.2011 @ 7:43 am
Never has my mind been more blank than faced with this word. I’m an olympic swimmer who’s forgotten how to float and is flailing about in an empty ocean of doubt.
» Posted By Fi On 01.18.2011 @ 3:28 am
Words drip from her mind into the ground below, creating puddles on the ground below before seeping into the ground
» Posted By Fi On 01.16.2011 @ 2:13 pm
You’re a revolting creature. You know that, don’t you? When I see your eyes, I think of all the wrongs you have done to me. I think of everything that you have destroyed for me… And then I think of how I have changed for the better because of you. Maybe you don’t realize this, but I love you because you hate me. I need you to remind me what I should never become. Oh, you’re a revolting monster, alright; but you’ve helped me more than hurt me. Isn’t that the greatest revenge I could reap upon you? (Suffer in the knowledge.)
» Posted By Fi On 06.20.2010 @ 4:28 am
my legs. my heart. my body.
this is all kinds of pain and hurt
life flowing through the rivers of blood and nutrients. i am a sicko. my heart will not stop hurting. is it her? or is it me? this is the question and i have no idea what the answer is.
is it her? or is it me?
i just want to know.
because this weight on my heart is really starting to hurt. a lot. i mean seriously. i don’t know if i can take much more of this. ouch! and well. . .
but i am stronger than this. at least i should be. i am tough. i am okay. i need to be okay. and good things have been happening also. new roommate and stuff. and class soon. and well, life is an amazing thing. i just need my heart to stop hurting right now!!!!
it is just to much.
i need to let go
» Posted By fi On 01.15.2009 @ 9:40 am
“Pardon me,” she said, “I really did love you.”
He smiles sadly, brushing ash off his lap. He didn’t believe her, he had a hard time seeing how it mattered anyway. A broken heart was a broken heart.
» Posted By Fi On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am
Back To Stats Page
Left is never right. Therefore The Left can never be correct. However left can be right to someone else. Therefore The Left can be right but only for other people who are looking at you.
Logic is weird
» Posted By Fi On 05.11.2008 @ 2:24 am