Cassie
I dragged my feet through the cold gray slush and shoved my hands deeper in my pockets. i hurried down the kalye with my head hung. Icy bits of hail pelted my back as they hurtled down from the dark, November sky above. As i entered the doors of the hospital, a strong balst of warm air hit me. i whipped the folded sheet of paper of out my cold pocket and warily walked up to the front desk. My dark brown hair hung like icicles.
"I'm Cassandra Little. I'm here to see Elaine Turner," i muttered.
Elaine
I coulnt move. i couldnt eat. i coulnt drink. i couldnt think. i coulnt even breathe right. The whitish curtain was pulled to either side and i saw a glimpse of the hospital hallway. In the middle there stood a girl. She looked beaten andshe was shivering. A small pool of water was formed around her feet as the snow melted off her tharshed out converse. Probably the only shoes she had. She had dark hair and eyes, with smudgey makeup. She didn't even try to smile. She wore a long black coat, but it didnt look very warm. The nurse abruptly sinabi "This is Cassandra. Shes here for..." she glanced at her clipboard, scowling"community service". She wore clean, kulay-rosas scrubs and had her hair pulled back in a neat blond bun, but the nurse still looked mean.
"Cassie" the girl interjected softly.
"Whatever" the nurse whispered coldly with an edge to her voice. She jerked away and whipped the curtains together as she strutted out.
Cassie
I walked toward the so called kama timidly. I was at loss for words. There didnt appear to be anything special about the room, ecept for a small bible that rested on a teeny bedside table. An elderly woman laid motionless underneath the pale covers. My shoes sqeuaked unnaturually loud as i stepped on the tile floor. A million tiny tubes extended from the womans body. Why did they put me here. i cant al with dying people! i just cant! I settled down in an uncomfortable chair, located near the bed.
"Hello," i managed to say.
A barely detectable smile appeared on the womans face.
"Nice to meet you". Her voice was rough, but surprisingly clear and loud. Loud for a dying person, that is.
Elaine
"How old are you, sweetie," I asked. She looked about 15, but ya never know.
"17" her voice was shaky and quiet. Ill bet you she was scared. Why was she scared? For goshs sake, she looked skinnier than I did! She had bags under her eyes. 17? 17 taon olds werent supposed to look like this! they were supposed to look happy and fresh! What on earth happened to that girl?!
I dragged my feet through the cold gray slush and shoved my hands deeper in my pockets. i hurried down the kalye with my head hung. Icy bits of hail pelted my back as they hurtled down from the dark, November sky above. As i entered the doors of the hospital, a strong balst of warm air hit me. i whipped the folded sheet of paper of out my cold pocket and warily walked up to the front desk. My dark brown hair hung like icicles.
"I'm Cassandra Little. I'm here to see Elaine Turner," i muttered.
Elaine
I coulnt move. i couldnt eat. i coulnt drink. i couldnt think. i coulnt even breathe right. The whitish curtain was pulled to either side and i saw a glimpse of the hospital hallway. In the middle there stood a girl. She looked beaten andshe was shivering. A small pool of water was formed around her feet as the snow melted off her tharshed out converse. Probably the only shoes she had. She had dark hair and eyes, with smudgey makeup. She didn't even try to smile. She wore a long black coat, but it didnt look very warm. The nurse abruptly sinabi "This is Cassandra. Shes here for..." she glanced at her clipboard, scowling"community service". She wore clean, kulay-rosas scrubs and had her hair pulled back in a neat blond bun, but the nurse still looked mean.
"Cassie" the girl interjected softly.
"Whatever" the nurse whispered coldly with an edge to her voice. She jerked away and whipped the curtains together as she strutted out.
Cassie
I walked toward the so called kama timidly. I was at loss for words. There didnt appear to be anything special about the room, ecept for a small bible that rested on a teeny bedside table. An elderly woman laid motionless underneath the pale covers. My shoes sqeuaked unnaturually loud as i stepped on the tile floor. A million tiny tubes extended from the womans body. Why did they put me here. i cant al with dying people! i just cant! I settled down in an uncomfortable chair, located near the bed.
"Hello," i managed to say.
A barely detectable smile appeared on the womans face.
"Nice to meet you". Her voice was rough, but surprisingly clear and loud. Loud for a dying person, that is.
Elaine
"How old are you, sweetie," I asked. She looked about 15, but ya never know.
"17" her voice was shaky and quiet. Ill bet you she was scared. Why was she scared? For goshs sake, she looked skinnier than I did! She had bags under her eyes. 17? 17 taon olds werent supposed to look like this! they were supposed to look happy and fresh! What on earth happened to that girl?!
Laughing heals the soul. What makes you laugh? Were all different. As a writer in training I'm experimenting on the"fun factor". Down the page are some funny stuff and I'd like to know which one makes you laugh the most. If you found a funny pic please post it and please comment on the pictures.
Now like I've sinabi we all have different tastes and it all is on you. Laughing is a very fun excersise.And these pictures are funny (or at least to me). Hold on to your socks lady and gentlemen it's time to get your laugh on.
Please comment!!!
Now let's have some laughs!
Now like I've sinabi we all have different tastes and it all is on you. Laughing is a very fun excersise.And these pictures are funny (or at least to me). Hold on to your socks lady and gentlemen it's time to get your laugh on.
Please comment!!!
Now let's have some laughs!
Sometimes its Easier to inore the truth
to forget about everything
to sit in a closet and hide forever
Sometimes its Easier, to blame yourself
To think its your falt
To ipakita no emotion
Sometimes It's easier to keep everything inside
to not let anyone know
to hide everything.
To me, Its easier to say something
To talk
to cry
Its easier to Feel Emotions
Anger, rage, Sadness,
but not fear
Fear is my enemey
He wants to take over my mind
Keep me locked up inside.
I'm tired of being scared
I'm tired of being locked in my own world
I'm tired of being a prisoner.
I will not be afraid,
I will not Let him Win
to forget about everything
to sit in a closet and hide forever
Sometimes its Easier, to blame yourself
To think its your falt
To ipakita no emotion
Sometimes It's easier to keep everything inside
to not let anyone know
to hide everything.
To me, Its easier to say something
To talk
to cry
Its easier to Feel Emotions
Anger, rage, Sadness,
but not fear
Fear is my enemey
He wants to take over my mind
Keep me locked up inside.
I'm tired of being scared
I'm tired of being locked in my own world
I'm tired of being a prisoner.
I will not be afraid,
I will not Let him Win
Memories and grief of my heart
Are still buried somewhere
I can’t cry neither I can freely laugh
What if they don’t know my past
I have not forget it yet
I still remember the same Zean with the same Zeal
But not in flashes neither in cars
In backstage of life with trembling hunger
Hunger in eyes and lips dry
No money in pocket but Zeal on shoulder
With memories of ‘Love’ and burning heart
Now my clothes are branded
And my shoes are best, pocket heavy with dollars
But with this all my puso is all heavy
With secrets of past
Pleasures can bury them but cannot vanish
I still look pasulong to death
When all my secrets will disappear, my pain will end
Also with my life..end will come to my BAD MEMORIES.
Are still buried somewhere
I can’t cry neither I can freely laugh
What if they don’t know my past
I have not forget it yet
I still remember the same Zean with the same Zeal
But not in flashes neither in cars
In backstage of life with trembling hunger
Hunger in eyes and lips dry
No money in pocket but Zeal on shoulder
With memories of ‘Love’ and burning heart
Now my clothes are branded
And my shoes are best, pocket heavy with dollars
But with this all my puso is all heavy
With secrets of past
Pleasures can bury them but cannot vanish
I still look pasulong to death
When all my secrets will disappear, my pain will end
Also with my life..end will come to my BAD MEMORIES.