A writers guild/philisophical discussion page for life, love, culture, and religion. PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT i learn alot from hearing from YOU! email me your concerns about this life anytime at firstname.lastname@example.org (please no 'fan' email, sorry.) and follow me on twitter @modestyguild & @stephenanberlin -stephen christian
"She walked in with a well thought out scarf and a hat to cover the war torn mascara running down her cheek. I knew she was there but was not about to let the silence of the past few weeks dictate my feelings now. It was an error of communication, a battle scar stapled to the side of time, it was coming to ahead, tonight. Her angle was simple, unlike mine, one of ruined expectations, of tired phone calls at the egoist hour of 3 am. She put her head on my shoulder, just like the time at the airport, where she felt helpless in my arms and I felt that finally I had the chance to make someone feel secure. "are you to stay the night?," she asked so nonchalantly, " the city is full of life and these streets of _______ are full of life at this hour. The next thing I remember was the moment I woke up wondering if it had happened at all. The sun hit my face like an unwelcomed strike from a nemesis. was this a dream, or the beginning of a recurring nightmare. So many times I pray "God why isn't my bride here with me now." and then chances like these escape me like an autumn leaf in winters wind. She then drove off with her thrown together cotton outfit, and cheap sunglasses. What am I doing? But it was so easy to let her drive off. With all the prayers thrown to the sky I now see why God must think my words are more like helpless banter. Wishing moments like these never happened because then I could look God in the face and face the facts the The only character I have left is that of selfishness, egoism, and a strong addiction to caffeine."
- taylor reise powell
james i like this piece because everyone can formulate their own story of what happend...
so what really happened?
james chavez is a man i would like to kill, i know that sounds harsh, but its true. in the back of my moleskin journal i keep cut outs of different pictures, tickets, random pieces of anythings to remind me of somethings, and newspaper articles. as i pulled everything out of my journal there was a piece of worn newspaper; my heart sank knowing what was on the other side. when i was in reno i was reading through a paper and stumbled on section 3A of the reno gazette. the date was november 9, 2006 and the headline read "father convicted of sexually assaulting daughter." of course my blood began to boil and my fist's began to clinch even before i began to read.
i am not one for the death penalty, i am always so torn by the topic, but if there is one ominious crime that i 'feel' deserves the death penalty it is for anyone who hurts an innocent child, especially sexually. james chavez did more than just sexually abuse his child, he tore her childhood, innocence, and e…
don’t look unless you want to be taken back a little. the crazy thing is your probably within one foot of it and it is absorbing you. slowly.
so many things in life that i want to learn. if i could implant some microchip in my brain and instantly learn kung fu, spanish, how to cook breakfast, and a full knowledge of architecture i would. but learning takes time, and anyone will tell you that to really master something you must practice for 10,000 hours. i don’t have that much time, i just need more time. we can find time, perhaps its that we don't really want to look in depth where our time is actually going.
curiosity is the beginning of learning, you have to be somewhat interested in a topic for you to fully explore it. sir issac newton holed up on in his room on a summer break from college in his early twenties with a prism and changed our entire thinking on light and color. imagine if he had access to internet radio and the app store, would we even know his name?