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Report | 10/16/2009 5:10 pm

idNTKNO

ok bye(:

Report | 10/16/2009 5:08 pm

idNTKNO

yea lol

Report | 10/16/2009 5:05 pm

idNTKNO

omg. i wanna see that movie.
i was told that some ppl came out crying
when the movie was over.

Report | 10/16/2009 5:00 pm

idNTKNO

cool. soooo.... wacha doin tomoro

Report | 10/16/2009 4:57 pm

idNTKNO

nothing(: just listenin to musicc.
you?

Report | 10/16/2009 4:54 pm

idNTKNO

hey!

Report | 10/10/2009 2:46 pm

RikuoSun

buunana

Report | 10/01/2009 2:06 pm

IIShWeEt

yeah

Report | 09/30/2009 10:15 pm

agnaljoe

* Once, there was a man. He lived in a mental hospital on the edge of North Carolina. Nobody had ever visited him. As far as anyone knew, the man didn't have any family or friends. He was at the hospital because he had killed his dog. He would sit on his bed and gaze off into space, mumbeling things about a ghost haunting him. When people tried to talk to him about it, he got very angry and he would scream things about a ghost who killed his dog. Everyone would tell him that he killed the dog, and that there was nobody haunting him.
One day, a little boy came to visit him. He told the people at the desk that he was the man's son. He was led up two flights of stairs, and down a long, brightly lit hallway. The third door from the end had a little metal sign screwed into the wall beside it. The sign said, "Mr. Jacobson, Age 47". The boy opened the door and slowly walked inside. Mr. Jacobson was asleep on his bed. Quietly, the boy walked over to the little side table next to Mr. Jacobson's bed. The boy set a box decorated with light blue tissue paper on the table. Then, he silently walked out of the room.
When the man awoke, he noticed the package. He quickly reached for it and tore the paper off. The box had a picture of a little dog on the side. He opened the box and pulled out a stuffed dog. The man started to cry. The stuffed dog looked just like the dog he was accused of killing. It was a beagle with brown and white fur. He loved that dog. It was his only friend.
The next night, the boy returned. He had a basket of treats he wanted the staff to give to Mr. Jacobson. The boy said he was running late and to tell Mr. Jacobson that the gift was from his son, Peter.
When Mr. Jacobson got the basket and was told that it was from his son, Peter, his face went pale. He collapsed onto the floor.
When he woke up, the people from the hospital asked him what was wrong. The man spoke in a quiet, terrified voice, "Peter....is dead! He was playing in the driveway when he was ten, and...and...I hit him with my truck!" The workers at the hospital were shocked. They didn't believe what he said. Peter couldn't possibly be dead! He had visited the hospital twice! The man continued his story, "Peter is the one who killed my dog! He's the one who has been haunting me! He want's revenge." the man said.
The next day, there was a fire. They say it started in Mr. Jacobson's room. They don't know the cause though. The fire was put out before it destroyed the hospital. There was only one death, Mr. Jacobson. They searched his room, but they couldn't find his body anywhere. The only thing they found, was the stuffed dog, lying on the floor, compleatly unharmed.

Report | 09/30/2009 5:33 pm

IIShWeEt

ha

Report | 09/30/2009 2:02 pm

IIShWeEt

yea

Report | 09/29/2009 7:39 pm

IIShWeEt

alrighty

Report | 09/29/2009 7:36 pm

IIShWeEt

GRRRRRRR BARK BARK

Report | 09/29/2009 7:24 pm

IIShWeEt

smile

Report | 09/29/2009 2:03 pm

IIShWeEt

yea baeby

Report | 09/29/2009 2:00 pm

IIShWeEt

idk nymo but nyway that that was a rrandum thing lol

Report | 09/29/2009 1:56 pm

IIShWeEt

no but ily u for knoin

Report | 09/28/2009 5:42 pm

IIShWeEt

IM SO PROUD OF MY SELF

Report | 09/28/2009 2:15 pm

IIShWeEt

ugh i hate u (j/p)

Report | 09/28/2009 2:51 am

agnaljoe

I want to know what's hidden
Underneath your deceiving veil
Through your sarcasm
Pushing aside that seemingly arrogance.
I want to go up and over the mountain.
You seem so apathetic, emotionless as a rock
But every now and then,
When you think no one's watching,
I see sorrowful face, sentimental, contrite
A glimpse of true emotion
A fragment of a real expression
A glance of hope.
How I cherish these seldom sights.
And by these I know you must feel
The most. To cover up your feelings
Is to have more feeling and sensitivity than exposing them.
Maybe you're insecure, afraid
Upon a discovery of your true feelings.
So I wonder this,
I try to solve the puzzle,
Decode your complicated actions
Hack into your complex mind workings,
But at the very most, gain your trust.
I want to know your sensitive side,
I want to know there's something there.
I want to feel connected to you
By knowing your interior
Thus understanding your exterior.
How can you gain anyone's trust
If you only display sarcasm.
Sarcasm is empty, meaningless
A sublime concealment.
Under the rippling thrashing waves,
There is calmness and delicacy. ...

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