still let them in? A stranger? Who knows how many times Joyce has invited someone in while I was sleeping‚ and who knows how many men it could’ve been. Still... I tossed and turned‚ nude in Joyce’s bed‚ listening to that album play and wondering what my sister felt like when she was waiting for a visitor. Did she always feel this thrill‚ did her blood bubble beneath her skin? I felt hot‚
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like I’m gonna be here all night. Looks like a long night.” I say to my dog Alexie. But it is going to be worse than that. I picked up the phone and ordered a pizza. “Yes I’ll like a meat lovers pizza with pineapple on it” I say. When the pizza came I took a bite and… “Hoooowwl.” howled Alexie. My dog she knew there was poison on it she could smell it a mile away but she was too timid to grawl. I was dieing‚ and it was not my time. But when Death came he gave me an offer instead of dieing I live
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I’m a caterpillar. Crawling around with not a single idea what my future holds for me. I have always felt I was different from all the other insects. They all seem to know who they are and what their purpose is. But not me‚ I don’t have the slightest clue. I have always felt that I’ve been trapped inside the completely wrong body. And that somehow when I was just a little larvae‚ I was mistaken and introduced as something I knew I wasn’t. Well they were correct about who I was physically but mentally
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nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How‚ then‚ am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived‚ it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there
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Your such a waste of life! Shut up Kenzie! Why are you even here! Just go away! Hmm… I wonder why you don’t have any friends? They just won’t stop‚ no one’s doing anything. My mind is blowing up. I can’t focus on anything. My mind cries out but I push it away. All I keep thinking about‚ how I am stuck here. Mom‚ dad‚ anyone get me out of here. They won’t stop. It like a movie being played over and over again! It makes me dizzy! Help me‚ help me‚ I am so desperate. Haha‚ that’s you! Invisible
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would they… oh yeah‚ Tom and his trial and all that. Were they like some kind of vigilante squad? “You’re damn tootin’ they won’t. Had you covered all the time‚ Atticus‚” a crisp voice cut through the night. I swung my head so violently it would’ve fallen off if it wasn’t attached to my neck. I glimpsed Mr. Underwood and his double-barreled shotgun leaning out of his window. That would’ve been helpful to know earlier! Atticus and him talked and talked and I was sure the sun would come over the horizon
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know those group that oversee each planet and call themselves as GOD. Even they don’t know how to do it.” “So let’s get back to the main point. You came to know my story right. Well it’s a long one. Oh!‚ you say you have plenty of time then its ok. To begin my story‚ we have to take a peek to the past and you can see how it all began.” My story began with regrets. You see on his death bed every person suddenly starts thinking about its past and present. No matter how successful a person may become
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There is a shadow that follows me‚ and even as I write this‚ it hangs itself over my head. But‚ I know it by name. It is anxiety. To best summarize how I feel‚ and to summarize this process‚ it’s hell. I’ve just given the final draft to my editor‚ but I’m no longer thrilled. The anxiety struck the moment I pressed send. The excitement is now replaced with uneasiness and fear. I want to reel these words back in‚ forget them‚ and live life as if they’ve never been written. From the moment it happened
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desperation to know whether the world I’d seen rise around me for so long was indeed the very one now rushing past me. So I grasp‚ I pray‚ I do all I can see it clearer‚ to hold it once more within my hands. I claw and‚ like a mist‚ it evades. Like a cloud it envelops me‚ its density suffocating‚ tightening in my throat‚ making sight impossible. I am a broken man with broken dreams‚ both blessed and cursed with clarity. I pity those who cannot see. This life‚ this world‚ it always moves in sporadic motions
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remember that because it’s my life right now. Why is it that I can hear it over and over again what my father does for a living but I can never understand it? Am I dumb?! Or is it just a bunch of mumbo jumbo? All my friends think he’s in the mafia because he wears pin stripe and black suits and carries a firearm and also is ripped out. I’ve decided that I need to figure this out because if he’s in the mob‚ well that would be kind of cool and if he’s not I’ll still tell my friends he is so no one
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