I wish I had something to say
But every idea I have just sounds HEY!
ARE THOSE BUTTERFLIES!
IN OCTOBER!? She cries.
Attention Deficit Disorder's the theme of my day.

Once I had a bad case of food poisoning,
So bad, I called my ex-wife loudly moaning.
I projectile vomited with pride.
The guy next to me died.
When the bill came, I resumed my groaning.

That's it?
No **it?
That was terrible.
You are horrible.

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I shot my butler. I didn't mean to, i swear. It was an out of body experience. i didn't know what i was doing until i had pulled the trigger. i mean, Jeeves had been awesome. Why on Earth had i shot my butler?? and, more importantly, how in the world had i shot my butler? I didn't even own a gun, for heavens sake! Maybe i was hallucinating. But how does that make any sense? if I hadn't shot my butler, who had?It was the only solution that made any sense. I had shot my butler. Oh my gosh,...

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i could be someone else,
a beauty queen,
a famous singer,
I could be an artist,
painting mountains and seasides,
making millions.
i could be a tv producer,
sitting in a beach chair and yelling at cast and crew.
But i choose to just be me.
I'm not a beauty queen,
an artistic genius,
or a tv producer.
but i'm unique.
there's no one else who can see through my eyes,
No one has walked two moons in my sneakers,
and that's the way i like it.
my mind is uncharted territory, my soul has never been explored. i'm a...

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It was weird, the way the rest of the world could see something that you yourself couldn't.

Like, I look in the mirror and there's - yeah, there's a girl there. And...yes, those eyes are dark, and that hair is...kinda curly, if it's behaving, and that skin is pale, freckled -

And I'm seeing the things I need to do to get to beautiful. Pluck that, moisturise that, define that, conceal that (some mornings, conceal all of it, please)

The amount of times I look at myself and I think that I need to be fixed. That I need to...

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I was studying in science class when he came up to me. He slowly sat down next to me and asked me for help with a few questions from the textbook. "I need to hear someone explain it to me." He was begging now, but I knew that he understood the material. "You tell me. You know the answers, now teach them to me." I was trying to get him to put his thoughts into words and sort them out in a way that he could remember. And then he looked at me with his soft eyes and said, "But...

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As I walked around town with my boyfriend, I noticed a pound. I walked up to it, looking into through the glass. I noticed a puppy looking very sad. I walked into the pound with my boyfriend yelling my name while trailing behind me. I walked up to the puppy, not bothered by anyone trying to greet me. I picked up the puppy and the puppy licked my face. I giggled as I looked at my boyfriend who was looking at me in awe. I looked at the puppy again and noticed it's tag. It showed the price of the...

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They were listening. Annette had no problem reading a report in school to a classroom full of students who were busy catching up on homework, drawing doodles, or discreetly pulling out their cellphones when nobody was looking; but this was different.

This was in front of people who'd come voluntarily. People who /wanted/ to hear what she'd written. People who actually enjoyed talking about math in their free time. Weirdos.

And that's what scared Annette. They were listening. If she'd done poorly, they'd actually care. They had a passion for the subject that she'd hated, despite her natural talent. Why,...

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ha!
you can count me out
nope
not doin' it
uh-uh
nooo wayyy
mm-mmm
nooooo
screw that
never
I Said No.

..alright let's do it

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"Of course, no one can make a unicorn," Pareth said, in that tone of voice he used when lecturing his students, "but you can take one apart." He stood, and I groaned inwardly.

He took the lecturing posture. "Of course, early giants of the field certainly tried. They glued the horn of a rhino to a horse, as if the mere simulacra of the thing could summon the real thing. Superstitious nonsense.

"Others tried grafting, and in more recent years we have seen specialized breeding, and even genetic manipulation. All abject failures. One cannot make a unicorn."

He smiled. "At...

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It was a vast open space. Where the distant hills cling to the horizon, and the blue sky above curves to fasten to the mountain tops below, and desert sand cloaks sheet metal on the floor, stretching as far as the eye can see. It was an illusion…

This is the place where all things die.

This is the place where it ends.

A man in a dark suit approaches me and shakes my hand.

"I’m glad you could make it."

As blood runs across the sand, and the sun drops, and red sky filters between the moments of openness...

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