21/05/16 11:20pm Dear Dad, I miss you. I tell myself I'm better off alone, and I'll be stronger when I'm independent. But I really can't imagine life without you.I have imagined it,its not worth talking about. I spend a lot of my time thinking. .. well... worrying actually. You always tell me not to worry … Continue reading Dear Dad #4
Without caution, the play, peeps into the future with a Pre-tribulation Premillennialist belief of rapture. It is not the usual luxury product of a teenage writer from High school (at the time of writing the play). Her bold steps to make symbols of the caption-ascribed-characters further leaves the reader to undergo an internal debate concerned with the near-reality of the fast-moving playbook. Consequentially, she takes turns drastically and to the pitiable awe of the reader who steps into the tension of the plot, a bosom craft of her far out imagination.
I remember one time when we both looked at a tree once but I wondered if we saw the same thing. Because you caught it down for a lemonade stall. Now I am thankful I own a lemonade stall but I guess you misinterpreted me saying, "I love this spot".
For they, the sinners; wallow in sin Are engulfed in inequities Dwell in atrocities So sad; they are involved in all these delinquencies
Last week, I tried out black nail-polish but my skin tone doesn’t bring it out at all. That's technically your fault. Sometimes I get a little pissed that I'm not as fair as mum. I feel like night at day; I guess that makes two of us: It's not that bad; I love putting on my brothers' clothes... I seem to be living the dream around deep voices and crooked moustaches. it doesn't hurt to be different sometimes.