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I still remember the beginning, when everything existed as though painted in a dream. I remember discovering every line of your body, tracing it in my memory over and over. Talking until dawn. You would cradle me in your arms and stroke my hair, soothing, so soothing.

Those were the days you called me your angel, and meant it. I remember aching for you whenever you were gone, such a raw, powerful feeling. Looking into your eyes was like peering into a piece of heaven. Back when you were my savior. Back when you were my saint.

We no longer tuck the night in and wish the dawn good morning. Where once we shared a tiny bed, a king sized one can barely manage us. We are no bigger than we were...we just built silent walls between us. They take up a great deal of space, you know.

You seem to have discovered that your darling angel has some rather shabby wings indeed; as for me, I've learned that my dear saint must have been canonized by a fluke. There's nothing else left for you to save, I fear.

Yet there is still love between us. The dream has just grown quiet. The fog has cleared up. True, we still accept each other for who and what we are. In some ways, the love is stronger. In some ways, this is better for us.

But oh love, there are days when I wish you would teach me to dream again...


This challenge wasn't easy. But I thank you.

How long before we wrap this up, Rose? Champagne.

When you learn the moves to trigger memories of entire past lives.

Make a whistle like a missile.

Pick your line, pick your texture pack, have fun out there, in there, whatever. I'll be here drinking milk and eating yogurt.

I would like to thank my parents, Ayn Rand and God

From a friend.

Who wrote this for you, because they would give everything to make you happy?

Are you sure rocks don't have imaginations?

It is not yourself that you fly through, it's Rose.

It is not the sky that you fly through, it is only yourself.

Is that your body you feel, or something invented by your mind?

Zhong (center) Guang (ray / light)

Write about it, enjoy it, worship it, conduct it, dance it.

What is the sound of one hand clapping?

SoundGarden sound check, check one, check two, check three

_blank_check_any_temperature_

_Your_Name_Here_

Everything2 2020.08.15

A! O! Let's go!

Remember the friends who gave everything to get you here.

Orthodontics / dentistry, guitar / piano, social work / porn, civil service / family / computers, writer / explorer / leader / dreamweaver / bridge builder

You get an Audi, you get an Audi, everybody gets and Audi!

You want more of this timewave?

Drumroll please...

0

Comments

"I love creating something from nothing."

center, core, self, middle

Maths: imaginary numbers, complex numbers

oo

You asked for this. Enjoy. Just U Rose

Graduated

pause

ocean

0123456789A

Boros Angels: British Broadcasting Corporation, Shizue, Model, Joy and a Passion, said that She did, Middle East point of view

Michelle 9Hendrix

Dreams and goals:

KitKat

by Karena & Katrina

BlackPink LisaJennieRoseJisoo

GEM

And all the rest is commentary.

Bishop of Wings

Green White Red blUe Black

but I am not going to

He knows I'm gonna stay

You know preacher like da cold

I passed along the way

stopped in to a church

California Dreamin'

I could leave today

if i didnt tell her

Earth Wind and Fire

on a winter's day

freakin Australians

I've been for a walk

FULLY EXPERIENCE THE NOW

and the sky is gray...

All

the

leaves

are

bro

n.0.w

oɹq

ǝɹɐ

sǝsoɹ

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˙˙˙ʎɐɹƃ sᴉ ʎʞs ǝɥʇ puɐ

ſq∀ ɹ∩פ ɹԀ∀ɹΛƎɹƆʞɹ ˥⅄⅄HS

ʞlɐʍ ɐ ɹoɟ uǝǝq ǝʌ,I

suɐɔᴉɹǝɯɐ uᴉzǝǝɹɟ

ʎɐp s,ɹǝɯɯns ɐ uo

ǝɹᴉℲ poolℲ puᴉM ɥʇɹɐƎ

ɹǝɥ llǝʇ ʇupᴉp ᴉ ɟᴉ

ʎɐpoʇ ǝʌɐǝl plnoɔ I

ƃuᴉɯɐǝɹp ɐɔᴉuoW znɹƆ ɐʇuɐS

ɥɔɹnɥɔ ɐ oʇuᴉ pǝddǝʇs

ǝɐM ɐp ƃuolɐ pǝssɐd I

ploɔ ǝɥʇ sǝʞᴉl ɹǝɥɔɐǝɹd ǝɥʇ ʍouʞ no⅄

˙ʎɐʇs oʇ ƃuᴉoƃ ɯɐ I sʍouʞ ǝH

ʇou ɯ,I ʇnq

ɔᴉƃɐWʞɔɐlq ɹǝʇɐMǝnlq ǝɹᴉℲpǝɹ puᴉMǝʇᴉɥM ɥʇɹɐƎuǝǝɹפ

suuᴉℲ ɟo doɥsᴉq

˙ʎɹɐʇuǝɯɯoɔ sᴉ ʇsǝɹ ǝɥʇ llɐ pu∀

⅄ɹOWƎW

ǝldɹnd ʇsǝʇɥƃᴉɹq

ɐuᴉɹʇɐʞ puɐ ɐuǝɹɐʞ

ʇᴉʞ s,llǝʍoԀ ǝuᴉɹǝɥʇɐƆ

ʎǝɟɟɐlƆ uǝʇsɹʎʞ

xᴉɹpuǝH ʎlloH

uoƃǝɹo ʎlƃn 'ǝʌᴉʇɔǝdsɹǝd 'pɹɐnƃ ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ǝʌol 'ɹǝʍolɟuns ʎllɐ ƃuᴉʎɹɔ 'zᴉɥS 'oƃɐɔᴉɥƆ ʞɔɐlq ƃᴉq 'ǝǝɹʇ qoqoɐq

ɐɹɐᴉɥƆ ǝllǝɥɔᴉW puɐ ǝᴉlɐʇɐN 'uǝʇsɹʎʞ puɐ ɐuᴉɹʇɐʞ 'ɐll∀ 'ʇʇɐɹԀ ɐuu∀ʎoſ 'sɹǝʌƎ uosʎll∀ 'nᴉQuɐᴉſnᴉ˥ ƃuɐMuᴉX 'ɐᴉuǝΛ 'ƃuo┴ 'ǝǝɥɔuᴉM 'ƃunS 'ɐᴉʌᴉlO

pǝǝs

ƖƖ

ʇuǝɯǝɔuǝɯɯoƆʎʇuǝʍ┴uǝǝʇuᴉNuǝǝʇɥƃᴉƎuǝǝʇuǝʌǝSuǝǝʇxᴉSuǝǝʇɟᴉℲuǝǝʇɹnoℲuǝǝʇɹᴉɥ┴ǝʌlǝʍ┴

Look into the eyes of infinity, remember your favorite life tree.

8

pɹɐnפʞɔɐlqᴉ ǝuoɥԀᴉ Wᴉ

S

<ǝɔɐds ʞuɐlq>09ϛ

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˙˙˙ǝsɐǝld lloɹɯnɹp

¿ǝʌɐʍ uᴉs ǝɥʇ ǝǝs oʇ ʇuɐʍ noʎ ǝɹns noʎ ǝɹ∀

¡uǝʞoʇ Ⅎ┴M ɐ sʇǝƃ ʎpoqʎɹǝʌǝ 'uǝʞoʇ Ⅎ┴M ɐ ʇǝƃ ∩ 'uǝʞoʇ Ⅎ┴M ɐ ʇǝƃ ∩

ǝᴉlɐʇɐN 'ɐuu∀ʎoſ 'uosʎll∀ 'ɐᴉuǝΛ 'uᴉX 'ɐll∀ 'ɐɔɔǝqǝɹ 'ǝllǝɥɔᴉW 'uǝʇsɹʎʞ

Monica Rose

¡oƃ s,ʇǝ˥ ¡O ¡∀

ʇǝS ʇoɹqlǝpuɐW

‾ǝɹǝɥ‾ǝɯɐu‾ɹno⅄‾

‾sǝǝɹƃǝp‾ɟo‾ɹǝqɯnu‾ʎuɐ‾ʞɔǝɥɔ‾ʞuɐlq‾

Ɛ ʞɔǝɥɔ 'ᄅ ʞɔǝɥɔ 'Ɩ ʞɔǝɥɔ :ʞɔǝɥɔ punos uosunW ɹolʎɐ┴ ssǝppoפunS

˙ǝsnɐlddɐ ɟo punoɹ ɐ ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ǝʌᴉפ

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ǝɐɹ ɐuʎɥƆ

˙ǝɹɐɔ ʇ,uop ʇsnɾ noʎ ǝʞᴉl ɹᴉɐ ǝɥʇ uᴉ spuɐɥ ɹnoʎ ʍoɹɥ┴

˙ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ʎluo sᴉ ʇᴉ 'ɥƃnoɹɥʇ ʎlɟ noʎ ʇɐɥʇ ʎʞs ǝɥʇ ʇou sᴉ ʇI

˙ǝsoɹ s,ʇᴉ 'ɥƃnoɹɥʇ ʎlɟ noʎ ʇɐɥʇ ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ʇou sᴉ ʇI

˙ɹoɹɹᴉW ʞɔɐlq 'ʇɐɥʇ ǝuᴉƃɐɯI

˙ɹǝʌᴉɹ ɐ ɟlǝsɹnoʎ ʎɹɔ plnoɔ noʎ os 'ɟlǝsɹnoʎ pǝɥɔund ɹǝʞɔns no⅄

Your One True Friend

poפ puɐ puɐɹ uʎ∀ 'sʇuǝɹɐd ʎɯ ʞuɐɥʇ oʇ ǝʞᴉl plnoʍ I

ʇɥƃᴉ˥ ɹǝuuI ǝɥ┴ :פN┴ ʞǝɹ┴ ɹɐʇS

˙dn ʍolq 'dn ʍoɥs I ǝɯᴉʇʎɹǝʌƎ

˙sƃuᴉʍ uoƃɐɹp / uoɯǝp lɐnʇɹᴉʌ puɐ 'suolǝɯǝɹᴉɟ 'sʍoɔ pǝɹɔɐs ɟo sǝᴉɹoɯǝɯ ɹǝƃƃᴉɹʇ oʇ sǝʌoɯ ǝɥʇ uɹɐǝl noʎ uǝɥM

˙ƃuᴉɥʇʎuɐ op uɐɔ ʎllɐǝɹ no⅄ ˙sǝɯʎɥɹ looɔ uɯɐp ǝɯos ,uᴉʇsnq 'ʇᴉ ʇnoqɐ dɐɹ oʇ pǝɔɹoɟ ǝq llᴉʍ 'ʎɹoʇsᴉɥ ɯoɹɟ uɹɐǝl oʇ sǝsnɟǝɹ oɥʍ ǝH

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