Comments

Survey 7 comments
guest · 9 years ago
Every.damn.time.
Who runs it? 4 comments
guest · 9 years ago
Is there a greater man behind every great woman? Does the fact that you are in front make you any less great? I smell the stench of sexist speech. I beg you, preach equality, not this... swill.
Carrying the conversation 1 comments
guest · 9 years ago
I wish to be both carry AND top.
Jimmy is trying so hard 17 comments
guest · 9 years ago
That was not a cringe I felt.
Bad taste in guys 7 comments
guest · 9 years ago
Shipping you as an amoeba as I type.
Me when i don't get something in maths... 10 comments
guest · 9 years ago
The tick of the clock drowns out the teacher's voice. You draw circles in your notebook while sitting, reclined, as waves of heat wash over you. Your eyelids begin to close, and the swirling motion of your pencil lazily drifts to the side of the page. As if from a great distance you hear the murmur of the teacher's voice. The battle to keep your eyes open weighs heavily on your entire being. Each tick of the clock brings you one creeping step closer to the velvet embrace of sleep. In one last feeble attempt you open your eyes. You can see the pencil from half a world away. It sits their, unmoving in your slack hand. The heat of the sun warms one of your arms. Your mind scatters as your eyes drift shut, tugging at thoughts and flashing images through your head. The murmur from outside forms snippets of conversation that flow like butter through your mind...
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