“Welcome! Welcome, welcome, welcome to Rosebud Diner! It's so great that you're here! Did you know we just opened?”
“Yes of course you did. But I bet you didn't know that you're our very first customer. That's right, the first one! This is so exciting.”
“Please, take a seat. No no, not that one, it's not nearly as good as this one. Yes this one is the best. Maybe we can name it after you! It can be the place of honor from now on.”
Ahhh, there’s nothing like a good Coke and a Fall Out Boy song. Apart from trying to figure out what the lyrics they’re singing mean, it’s also often difficult to hear what exactly they’re saying. Nevertheless, Fall Out Boy is EPIC.
Does it ever make any sense when you have an imagination stocked full of characters, worlds, adventures, magic and ideas but yet you think to yourself, "I can't think of anything to write!"?
Why? I ask myself. I have created worlds upon worlds full of fantasy and adventure, characters upon characters of detail and mystery, ideas upon ideas of love, dreams, disasters and sorrow. But when I sit down to post my writings on apricotpie, why do I sit and think, "I don't know what to write about!"
**Part four! And still going strong. This is becoming much more involved than I originally planned it to be (I thought, when writing part one, that it would be 3 parts only. How young and foolish I was. ;] ). But I hope that you will, as always, enjoy!**
assurance that You're faithful
but still a storm
You are always tall
but the battle is a loud call
Amen comes from parted lips
but behind is found bitterness
You are here
but still it's easy to scream of fear
faith of being kept
but silence tightens breath
You are right beside
but there are things dying
understanding being found
but looking up from being drowned
truth about being held
but not an easy thought once felled
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Jokk tapped on the door of the good-sized house. Varian glanced up and down the dark, empty street. He brushed the front of his tunic, then looked over the front of the house.
Introduction
For a while now I have been frustrated at the lack of posts from the other men at this site. In December, it prompted me to pen a poem, wherein I wrote,
Are we really a witless and dull-headed bunch?
Can't our gender together write one fourth as much?
Tossed by the sea’s great waves
And battered by the wailing wind.
The storm is crashing, the rain is pouring.
The sides are creaking, the sail is fallen.
Dark sky and grey sea
High prow and broken timbers.
Down, down, down.
Below, below, below.
Storm, storm.
Beneath.
The sword flashed down toward Gerhard’s neck; his sister’s muffled scream came from somewhere behind him and he winced at the sight of the blade descending and closed his eyes tightly. Time slowed as the sword moved. His life flashed before his eyes; in his mind he screamed to God for help. The seconds seemed like an eternity; he felt himself falling into a bottomless pit and he could not pull himself out. He wondered what it would feel like when the cold steel penetrated his neck.