Shared Lies. A Reflection of Profundity.

4/24/16 *PLEASE DO NOT POST REPLIES IN THIS THREAD.

Where does one begin when nothing is as it seems? Perhaps there is a spiral twist made up of dreams, the waking variety, and dreams made up of night terrors; an eternal screw job so to speak. I’ll have to further explore the significance of being in limbo later along in this journal.

The diamond, golden child at some point becomes the tarnished, silver child who so enjoys the water that she truly doesn’t mind rusting out as some cathedral of iron and steel . Mind rusting. It’s okay with her now that she is grown outwardly. Rust can be lovely. Bloodless reds and burnt oranges swirled together and rippling apart. Many intertwined colors held in a reflective gaze across her facade in the sun’s face and the moon’s backside grace.

Decades back in her wee-dom, everyday was an adventure for her taking. Everything felt real. Tasted real, often poorly. And smelled mostly like urine. Tots are supposed to be ultra sensitive and boy was she.

Early on she had to be sneaky in her defiance to authority. Not that she didn’t outright voice her objections when it came to naptimes, but alas always nasty threats were made when she was put down so as not to impede on the adults and their escape times. She was no dummy. She knew that they wanted to be rid of her for hours. Angry at the abandonment, after the ritualized tantrum, she would do a bouncy walk across her crib to reach the vinyl shade across the room’s only window where she would peer out into the sunlight, into a world she wanted to run in wildly. She wanted to be free to play and never stop. No down times. No sleeping. What she got was no release. So with nothing left to do in her crib cage, she would gather her bedding underneath her virginity and rock herself sweetly to sleep.

4/25/16 PLEASE DON"T POST REPLIES IN THIS THREAD**

Lilacs and dandelions, one a heavenly scent and the other for the butter lover. Trees beckoned her to climb them and she was quite the monkey, scraped up during her ascent, but always satisfied with those endeavors. Trees were her tower friends which held her up high so she could not only feel strong, but also older. She enjoyed feeling control over her abilities and her environment wherever she had climbed, in fact wherever she ran. And the lore of the unknowns, the sidewalks and streets curving here and there was so inviting, especially the infamous woods way yonder with it’s trodden dirt paths.

Aside note: I had the best childhood away from my parents. Always itching to escape outdoors.

4/26/16 Please DON’T POST Replies in this Thread*****

It’s weird to know that it’s all going to be alright…no matter what. Fears come and go, just as loves do. Hope can be reborn in the right soul, even when cracked and piecified, never forgotten. Eternal is as eternal does, just like justice is as justice does. I swung MY hammer of justice on myself and I’m still going strong in the hope department. So I am the sane one? That’s too bizarre. Well it was yesterday.

4/27/16 NOA POSTUM REPLYUMS INA THISA THREADCHA******

Saw part of another sunrise, beautiful. Seems as I reminisce, more beloved moments spring to mind. Now and then co-mingling happily. Prayed last night. Simple to the point giving thanks and confirming my peace with peace.

Blossoming early as a romantic, silly heart, she used to enter her dark closet and actually pulled the bed frame against the door so that she had to be rescued by the pirate she envisioned in all his swashbuckling glory.

She’s so alone and trapped in the dark; her hero come rescue her from this dungeon. The irony of being scared of the dark and thrilled by it at the same time. She’d wait for hours to be rescued, ever so often, cracking the door open to reconfirm that she was still trapped and get that sliver of fresh air and light.

4/28/16 PLEASE DO NOT POST REPLIES IN THIS THREAD*****

Her best friend was a twelve years old boy who was having tough times at home. She understood that he was not happy; she was a welcome distraction from the yells of his lunatic mother and pesky brother. He was a big, strong boy who taught her to ride her bike. He was incredibly protective and she trusted him more than anyone else. With her being only five, she did wonder why he showed her so much attention. Maybe he wanted a little sister who liked him without judgement. He even found a ripped up Barbie doll which he gifted to her. A dog had done some serious chewing on Barbie’s leg, which made her smile. Barbie was never really played with although she appreciated his gesture and hung onto that doll for many years out of respect. He seemed happy to watch her climb trees. He’d let her climb up onto his shoulders to reach the really high branches. Then, she had no fear of heights. When he disappeared, she was saddened by his absence. Grateful for his friendship, but saddened by never seeing him again.

You are the tease. All tickle, no bite.

Thread must die!!!
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not to worry, im sure the retarded mods will help you out though…

[MOD EDIT: the image in this post was removed. It depicted a swinging dick, which presents problems for visiting this thread from many real-world settings and is therefore disruptive - Carleas]

come on tirxie, lighten up! what has happened to you over the past few weeks!?

You need to retreat, back to your abyss. You called me a retard and told me to fuck off. Why do you bother? :laughing:

You are a retard though… I like taunting you, i guess. it’s fun.

:-k :laughing: . When’s the taunting going to begin? You’re shooting blanks, “cunt”, is it sayeth you?

nah im just ruining your thread that’s all…because i can, remember… :sunglasses:

ok thread demolished…see yaa!

one last thing before i go…

it applies to you…greatly…

:romance-heartbeating:

This thread needs clearing up, where’s the mods… why arn’t they doing their job?

Get busy Mann.!

In all fairness, my posts do add more quality to the thread in a way, considering the first initial posts… :sunglasses: