Life. Beauty. Art.

In a single instant there has never been a more beautiful art than life.

Warning! As Per Your Request

As per your request here is my disclosure. The content of this page is mainly fictional. Read at your own risk. Most of theses stories are not my own memories but merely the playthings of my imagination. Don't you wish you knew which one's were true? Thanks!
Sincerely The Author

Lend Me Your Eyes

Everyone lives but not everyone is alive. Everyone is searching for something. Everyone loves, dreams, hopes, and dies. Lend me your eyes.

10.8.12

Fallen

Never would I have thought that I could sink this low. That I could bare to see myself come to this, not that I didn't enjoy every single solitary moment of it. Yet it still eats at my very soul it doesn't entirely destroy me, but it was very much below me. Even in this society, I could be considered a slut, a whore. Just like in olden days long past, the days we thought we had evolved from. We thought we had overcome but yet here we are with the same principles they had. Even in this twisted world codes and chivalry still apply. So here I am a fallen woman. By the terms of those who looked down their noses at people who do not fit in their society due to birth, rank, job, money etc. So here I am with a dirty secret in my heart yet a golden thought in my mind.. A smile on my lips, and a beautiful feeling from my toes to the top of my head, The feeling making me giddy. I giggle at nothing and am rewarded by looks from my peers the ones who love to develope fantasies to ruin my life with rumors, lies that eat up their souls. I could never be one of those girls who could care less what people sat about me. Yet neither does it eat me a live to know what they are saying. With him to smile at and to receive a smile in return is rewarding always. Then to feel his breath on my neck in between classes, and his hand on my hip as me walk to class, and the taste on his lips when we are alone. These are thoughts I cannot forget. We have been dating for years some how it feels perfect being there with him, my skin still crawls in delight when he touches me and he has been touching me for years. Holding my hand hugging me till I choke, catching me when I fall. All that and more. There is nothing that can happen to take me awa not even him. For he could never do it, and he never would, my voice is just as addicting to him as his to mine. I still whisper sweet nothings in his ear as he says them aloud for all to hear at lunch he mouths "I love you." and I return the saying meaning every syllible. So where does that leave me? The whore? or the lover?