so you're in good company
Yup.
What? I'm not allowed to hit people? Wesley: Not people capable of genocide. Angel: Those are exactly the types of people I should be allowed to hit!
'Just Rewards (2)'
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Connie Neil - Mar 02, 2005 4:39:54 am PST #337 of 10001
brillig
erikaj - Mar 02, 2005 5:16:38 am PST #338 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
I want everything. And if I don't write, I hurt people.
Pix - Mar 02, 2005 5:23:49 am PST #339 of 10001
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie
Erika, that is the best thing I have seen in a very long time. Can I tag?
Connie Neil - Mar 02, 2005 5:31:32 am PST #340 of 10001
brillig
And if I don't write, I hurt people
More fun than therapy, cheaper than drugs.
erikaj - Mar 02, 2005 6:23:31 am PST #341 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
If you want, Kristin, please. (Although to be completely accurate, I'm my own victim more often than not. But I count as people, right?)
Connie Neil - Mar 02, 2005 6:40:59 am PST #342 of 10001
brillig
But I count as people
Some people never get to that stage of realization, that not hurting people includes themselves.
deborah grabien - Mar 02, 2005 7:31:08 am PST #343 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
For Chino
When we first saw her in the pet store, she was just past true kittenhood, six months old.
"Oooooh!" My daughter was enchanted. "She's all golden!"
She was, too. A cameo shade Persian, gleaming yellow cat with yellow eyes, a purr that could be heard rattling across a room. We brought her home with us.
Fourteen years later, she is skin and bone. Cancer has taken hold. She sleeps on the big soft pillow in our living room, deep into dying. I touch her a lot, trying to reassure, to ease her out. Sometimes, her purr rattles under my hand.
This one's for Capuccino, purest gold.
Liese S. - Mar 02, 2005 7:44:23 am PST #344 of 10001
"Faded like the lilac, he thought."
Aww, deb.
victor infante - Mar 02, 2005 8:02:01 am PST #345 of 10001
To understand what happened at the diner, we shall use Mr. Papaya! This is upsetting because he's the friendliest of fruits.
New poem, written in the "Written Right Now"contest at a local reading:
Light-Up Plastic Tiara
The apocalypse is a cable gameshow,
wears Vegas like a tiara,
smokes tobacco straight like scorched earth,
recycles in the late-night slots,
only the stoned will see it coming.
SailAweigh - Mar 02, 2005 8:06:50 am PST #346 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Aw, deb! You're not supposed to make me cry at work! Sniff.
ita, Liese, I loved both of yours. They make one stand back and go "whoa."
I'm particularly bereft of words for this topic. It might be because all I can think of is a pair of yellow shoes with black heels that I had in Spain. Loved those shoes. Never wore them in the states. They didn't fit.