Comments Posted By isabelle

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I don’t know what that word means. if I’m honest I don’t understand politics and I never have, but somehow I’m running for president. It sounds hard to believe it was an accident but it was. I needed a job and something to keep my mind occupied plus my friends thought it was funny. No one was going to vote for me anyway. My palms are damp and warm as I gawk at the papers before me.

» Posted By Isabelle On 03.13.2018 @ 3:55 am


A big long staircase that travels from the top of the princesses tower all the way down to the dungeon. It is filled with traps that could stop you right away. Take your life away that day. There are dragons and, fire, and all of that down there. The traps are so deadly of many that are there.

» Posted By Isabelle On 07.24.2017 @ 5:20 pm

A big long staircase that travels from the top of the princesses tower all the way down to the dungeon. It is filled with traps that could stop you right away. Take your life away that day.

» Posted By Isabelle On 07.24.2017 @ 5:18 pm


The bar underneath this empty gray space is slowly but ever so quickly moving across the screen, eating up my time but I’m not stressed, I’m not panicking at all about the time constraint, not at all, no. Because I’m writing something, right? I’m writing something worth posting. Well, I don’t know if it’s worth posting, But I’m posting it anyway so haha sucks for the haters here if there are any. Time’s almost up ~

» Posted By Isabelle On 12.23.2016 @ 4:35 pm

Always moving. Life is always moving, and it hurts to stop, to push back against the current that threatens to drown me. I mean, we had a perfectly good relationship going. It was nice. I never had a relationship before the one I had with you. But now you’ve moved on, told me it was just to be friends. Life is moving too fast. You’re leaving me too fast. Life is always moving on.

» Posted By Isabelle On 12.23.2016 @ 12:44 pm


Nightmare. Horns beeping. Traffic. Cars. Hell. Impatient. Frustrated . Annoyed. Yelling.

» Posted By Isabelle On 09.18.2016 @ 2:28 am


The club was a massive dark cave. Near the cave stood eleven armed guards. There was no one inside the cave but a man on a throne. No one had entered the cave in fifty years. He had been young once but the grey light of the cave had bleached his skin and his eyes shone white and blind in the darkness. Insects were his only friends and he muttered to them at night and all day and picked their little wriggling legs off their bodies when he fell into ennui. The guards had no tongues and could not speak. He heard no voice but his own for fifty years.

» Posted By Isabelle On 02.14.2016 @ 11:07 pm


accuracy is a myth especially when you’re writing and maybe ESPECIALLY when you’re writing wit ha time limit also WOW my spelling is off today.
I wonder how in character I would have to be to make this about a character let’s see
Jeffory considered the crosswinds as he crouched on the rooftop. It was hard to get a precise shot from there in the best of weather.

» Posted By Isabelle On 11.22.2015 @ 8:57 am


Blood. Shattered. Silence.

» Posted By Isabelle On 09.14.2015 @ 8:42 pm


The icy shadows engulfed me in a grasp that took my breath away. My trembling legs fought to keep me standing on the cold ground beneath me. I knew it was time

» Posted By Isabelle On 09.05.2015 @ 11:56 am


words can look awfully strange if you stare at them long enough.

» Posted By Isabelle On 08.26.2015 @ 7:30 pm


I peered down the droning corridor and although I could not see her, I felt her presence. The air seemed to evaporate and my mind drowned in its own thoughts.

» Posted By Isabelle On 08.23.2015 @ 1:26 pm


I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math, it’s not anything, really. It’s just endless pages of the same question, over and over. And I’m sitting here, tapping my foot, clicking my tongue. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

» Posted By Isabelle On 07.15.2015 @ 10:42 pm

I fucking hate algebra. I hate it. It’s not math. It’s not anything. It’s just sitting in a chair, filling out a worksheet, hundreds of the same question with different numbers. And I’m tapping my feet, I’m clicking my tongue, my breath is fogging up my glasses. Fuck this. I’m gonna ask to use the washroom.

» Posted By Isabelle On 07.15.2015 @ 10:37 pm


i could write something deep and insightful
but my painting is ruined and i’m going to fail art and math
who cares anymore?
(i cry while meditating. i’m a pretentious loser.)

there you go.
as you can see i am not lacking in skill.

» Posted By isabelle On 06.07.2015 @ 6:39 pm



» Posted By isabelle On 05.11.2015 @ 3:38 pm


Mxjsjjsjsjsjsjsksksksksmsmssjs that’s what it’s like to be drunk your brain is like ajshjd,dkddmmsmdnddndmdmddmdm whahhhhh cray cray.

» Posted By Isabelle On 02.24.2015 @ 1:58 pm

Drunken is when u do crazy things and u are really drunk and you fall over and get all weird and crazy and you can’t control your actions and you should not drink and drive because your brain cannot function

» Posted By Isabelle On 02.24.2015 @ 12:44 pm


Something that makes you more interested in what you are talking about. it makes you want to know more about the subject.

» Posted By Isabelle On 02.12.2015 @ 4:49 am


The world. A model/ figure the we can look at that resembles the world. Ican show and explain to my kids about it instead if traveling. Traveling would be fun. I’d love to travel around the world. Hawaii for sure, I’ve been there before and is love to go again. I would go back to Mexico and visit old friends. Then maybe take a long trip with my family to every country. And visit hobbit town.

» Posted By Isabelle On 01.13.2015 @ 6:30 am


Quilted – an odd word. It reminds me of thick doonas and warm blankets, yet at the same time makes me think of sad, wilted plants and loneliness. The juxtaposition of the two results in an interesting concept – to be quilted.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.19.2014 @ 6:50 am


Crosswalks. The invention in the hope to save lives. Every year, thousands of individuals are hit by vehicles on public roads while crossing, and there was an enormous incentive for the government to take action. And so they did. With the invention of the zebra striped paths.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.18.2014 @ 6:01 am


She clapped her tiny hands together, her flushed face lit up with excitement. Her positively delighted expression brought a much-needed smile to my face.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.16.2014 @ 6:22 am


Her wild hair fuzzed around her tired face like a thick brown cloud. She was incredibly frazzled, you could see in in the way her eyes darted around nervously and the way she fidgeted with her hands, unable to keep them still as the clock above her ticked loudly.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.15.2014 @ 8:51 am


I got my ears pierced when I was just four years old. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world, and for weeks on end I marched around, parading my tiny diamond studs as though they were the most beautiful things in the world, and that I was a gorgeous princess blessed with these shimmery jewels.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.14.2014 @ 5:26 am


Violet roses covered the field like a thick, purple blanket. I lay among them, gazing up at the clear blue sky overhead as the hot sun beat upon my face. Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with the rich fragrances which enveloped me. It was almost overwhelming, sending me into a dizzingly heightened state.

» Posted By isabelle On 07.13.2014 @ 5:33 am


See through. Silver and grey. Her eyes were a pale, translucent shade, and they pierced mine in an oddly gentle manner. I instantly felt calmer, as those an unnatural power had brought me to a compassionate state. Peace…

» Posted By isabelle On 07.12.2014 @ 4:05 am

See through. Like eyes. That are grey, or silver, and shimmery. But not in a tacky, glittery way. In a beautiful way instead. Peaceful, calm, transparent but not. Gorgeous, touching, emotions. Care. Calm. Peace.

» Posted By Isabelle On 07.12.2014 @ 4:00 am


The fox is regarded as the slyest creature, but that is not true. The fish is honestly the slyest of them all. He tricks us into thinking he’s dumb. All he does is “blub”. But what is he really thinking about? Mass murder.

» Posted By Isabelle On 06.03.2014 @ 7:54 pm


Somehow when he looked at me I just knew he was a sufferer of loneliness. I knew he was a lost cause, sitting by himself in the darkness of solitary evenings, wishing on stars before they appear, lighting candles if only to illuminate his own heart.

» Posted By Isabelle On 04.29.2014 @ 6:02 pm

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