A butterfly. How delicately she flies, how softly her wings indent the breeze, so fragile, so yet undeniably beautiful. She had often found herself wondering, how such a faint being can take flight, against the continuous forces rising against her. Yet once again the wings keep beating, unfazed and unaltered by fear. Can a being with such a dainty appearance remain true of heart, when all around her seems lost?
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each дана choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, или are Ты riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this Вопрос a год ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told Ты with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden трава beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined by another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one день become no еще than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing еще than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once еще filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once еще be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each дана choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, или are Ты riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this Вопрос a год ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told Ты with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden трава beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined by another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one день become no еще than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing еще than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once еще filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once еще be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
hello fanfiction writers
I feeling really bored right now, so i guess i thought about all of Ты guys/girls :D
I want to congratulate Ты all for making such awesome and great fanfiction. So it must be said, so everyone can read about you're fanfiction :-)
I read most of the fanfiction (allot actually) myself and i just adore them i sometimes print them out and start Чтение them like a book, it's really amazing that people are still so broad-minded :o)
*****To all fanfiction writers out there continue the great job and don't ever stop :D LOL and to the people who want to start a fanfiction on there own, good luck and enjoy what Ты write :D*****
I feeling really bored right now, so i guess i thought about all of Ты guys/girls :D
I want to congratulate Ты all for making such awesome and great fanfiction. So it must be said, so everyone can read about you're fanfiction :-)
I read most of the fanfiction (allot actually) myself and i just adore them i sometimes print them out and start Чтение them like a book, it's really amazing that people are still so broad-minded :o)
*****To all fanfiction writers out there continue the great job and don't ever stop :D LOL and to the people who want to start a fanfiction on there own, good luck and enjoy what Ты write :D*****
Golden brown eyes, like hardened syrup in a pool like shape of a continuance lifetime of some burdened sadness.
Lifeless he is, like a beautiful statue, numb to the world around him.
Only the silent whispers of feeble minds he hears.
The red seductive toxin running through their veins, of which he hungers for… his ‘own personal brand of heroin’.
His thirst for normality is torturous to his eternal, tormented soul.
A secret torture for this masochistic lion,
This old face holds many secrets, some unable to tell but all not forgotten.
Lifeless he is, like a beautiful statue, numb to the world around him.
Only the silent whispers of feeble minds he hears.
The red seductive toxin running through their veins, of which he hungers for… his ‘own personal brand of heroin’.
His thirst for normality is torturous to his eternal, tormented soul.
A secret torture for this masochistic lion,
This old face holds many secrets, some unable to tell but all not forgotten.
~~~~~~Yep! It's true! the Erin series has its own official fanspot! if u haventr read the series, u should they are about my best friend and thay are really good!~~~~~~omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~omgomgomgomgomogomogomgnhjnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Ты can read еще about the rules and conditiones of the contest in the main website as mention before soo remember act now and who knows mayby it wonnt be your last movie Ты do!!
Can anybody say¡¡¡HOLLYWOOD!!!
Good Luck everyone!!
The 22-year-old Twilight звезда recently sat down with E! Online and dished on the upcoming film and what exactly he thought was weird about it all. “Sometimes Ты feel uncomfortable Чтение this thing [the book] and I think a lot of people would feel that it is…and in the same way it’s kind of voyeuristic. It’s kind of like a sick pleasure…It’s really honest, really, really honest and that’s kind of what’s weird about it.”
I've been fanpopping since september if I am correct. At first I was a stranger to this site, and spot. But, soon enough I have grown fond Ты ladies here. I think it is awesome that I found girls who are exactly like me. OBESSESED with the Twilight Series! Everyone gets exciting when the thought, или mentioned anything that has to do with the series! I Любовь it, and it makes me happy that I am not alone when it comes to being obssesd with these series of books, being I've been Чтение the series since 2005 it was hard to find girls like me. Everyone one of Ты ladies are amazing, smart, funny, and just really neat to talk about Twilight because Ты girls are awesome, and wouldn't trade any other Фаны on any other fansite for Ты ladies! I just Любовь Ты all! you're awesome!
sometimes it can get a little cold hearted, but then again everyone is no great and nice!
Ты ladies are great!!!
Любовь Ты all!!!
Gileygirl =D
sometimes it can get a little cold hearted, but then again everyone is no great and nice!
Ты ladies are great!!!
Любовь Ты all!!!
Gileygirl =D