Tags » Battle

On the edge of passion

It takes a strong mind to do that… a strong body too, but basically it takes a strong mind. It takes nights, days, years of reflecting upon the process so you can recognize the next steps… it takes experience to be able to deal with… it takes patience and determination… to want NOT TO… to choose NOT TO… even if you could do it… even if you’re allowed to… even if there is no reason to avoid it… even if your body- being “hungry” for ages- seems to beg you to go further, to do it, to let yourself be, to get in the line with the other human beings… 301 more words


Battlefield of love...

Sunday, 19th of April, 2015

Being an optimist, I would like to believe that love can conquer all but unfortunately reality tells me otherwise and that it really doesn’t. 649 more words

Eight hundred

We may look at life
from eight hundred angles.
The sharpest ones
are the very blessed ones.

It may bruise, and burn,
the pathway of tears, 25 more words


A YEAR UNDERFOOT - entry #236

June 28th, 2034

I’m disturbed by yesterday’s vision and in the cold manner that the information was presented to me. I’m beginning to think the Retratti have lost faith in our ability to fight back. 9 more words

King Monster Killed My Pappy When I Was Just A Baby Boy, Part 3: Goober's a Real Pain But At Least He Ain't Gonna Bad-Mouth Me Like Creepy Pete And When I Say Bad Mouth It's Not In The Way That You Think I Mean

“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hand to calm the indignant ghost. “Your name’s not Goober. Remind me what it is again?”

“It’s Giovanni!” He shouted, his voice almost effeminate with the pain of his offended pride. 982 more words


The ab life for me

Just a quick one today.

As always things are hectic here at C&J. After a shaky Easter period we have patched up the cracks and the fitness regime is once again working with military precision. 298 more words


Aurë entuluva

Last of all Húrin stood alone. Then he cast aside his shield, and wielded an axe two-handed; and it is sung that the axe smoked in the black blood of the troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered, and each time that he slew he cried: ‘Aurë entuluva! 118 more words