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Why Girls Love HorsesIt’s common knowledge that the average five-year old girl dreams of having her very own horse. Her fantasies are filled with a pony that’s fluffy and cute (preferably pink) with a desire to be dolled up and covered in sparkles. It’s less common knowledge that of the few girls who get their wish, even fewer are bright enough to see their pony as a friend, not as a guinea pig for their hairstyling experiments. It’s hardly knowledge at all that a horse can be more than a pet, but as a small number of girls can tell you, that theory is entirely true. For a select few, a horse can be the truest love oneWhy Girls Love Horses
by ~premonitions
From a Street Corner at NightI picked her up at night, from the shady fellow on the corner in front of the abandoned Laundromat. He wore dark sunglasses and a big-feathered hat. This was his corner. Everyone knew that. And everyone knew her. She was beautiful, with a long graceful neck that I just wanted to shower with kisses. She was real cheap too, a true bargain. I couldn’t wait to bring her back to my apartment; I already couldn’t keep my hands off of her. “Hey, man, take care of her, don’t hurt her, ya here? She’s my favorite, she’s real good, made me a ton of money on this corner. So be gentle with her, or I’ll kill ya,” the dubious man threFrom a Street Corner at Night
by ~vintagebohemia
Friday DawnEven in the middle of the summer, the mornings are chilly. You curse your tank top and shorts as the two of you walk to your car. You want coffee. You haven’t spoken since you asked him if he was ready to go. The squeak of your car door echoes on the six a.m. street, and you blush without knowing why. He clears his throat as he gets in. You wait, but he doesn’t say anything. Your car, which should have quit running five years ago, wakes with a start and a scream of protest. The radio, left on from the night before, is far too loud, and playing commercializFriday Dawn
by ~AstonishedHick
crimson nightSometimes I wish I were in New Orleans or in Tennessee in the summertime, people with warm, welcoming voices and golden, glistening skins enjoying the summer with you. The heat is so clammy it is almost palpable. The swift, soft wind is swathing you in this summer haze. From the corner of your eye, you can catch a glimpse of semi-invisible, quasi-transparent lightening bolts. Cold clouds cunningly creeping in like a curse, anchoring themselves above you like a captivating choir, shaking, shifting, swinging from side to side, spreading around. The songs and sounds of the torrid summercrimson night
by ~JaneczkaDabrowski
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Entering a universe of sanity and metronomic order with quite-mad coocoo newness...
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())_CRAYOLA))> I wuv you.
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"...we wave the flag of freedom as we conquer and obey."
-operation ivy.
member of the ~unknown-poet-project
and ~SKA-CLUB
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'Better a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.'
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did you ever know you're my tragic hero?
you be the pity, i'll be the fear.
--/nathan\
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Dear god I need cotton swabs.
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I am a firm believer in Dr. Douchebag's Magic Slut-Boning Technique for Nerds.
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Entering a universe of sanity and metronomic order with quite-mad coocoo newness...
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