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ART for Dummies

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posted on Mar, 11 2004 @ 08:33 PM
Juice is like wine and Im hungry like the wolf. Im at a point in my life now where I can listen to Duran Duran and Metallica and see no problem with it, but most of my friends do. Speaking of which Im going back to Texas soon where I left my broken heart and I dont know how that will go, but no use in worrying so I might as well put on some...


posted on Mar, 11 2004 @ 08:40 PM

whered you come up with that texas thing?

im in texas...and when i leave, im never coming back because anyone who could break my heart aint stayin here either

The Wall Street Interpretive Dancer

buy sell buy buy buy sell this is how we do it down on WALL STREET we bite we gnaw but no matter what, you must always withdraw that push that shove all because we're on WALL STREET yes WALL STREET
the street of dreams
oh wait no, i mean the street of reality
without love or passion
this is the fashion of WALL STREET
and we will keep doing our carmognole
because we're here on

(carmognole...spelling? its french, the crazy, freaky, frenzied dance that the peasants did in the streets during the frenhc revolution, very scary)

[Edited on 3-11-04 by Scat]

posted on Mar, 13 2004 @ 12:00 PM
I'm trying to think of a good 60 Second Novel......hmmm....this is a toughie


posted on Mar, 13 2004 @ 02:51 PM
you dont really think of a novel, you just write a funny title or interestnig or something, and go fromt here for 60 seconds

posted on Mar, 13 2004 @ 11:35 PM
I sat on the side of the road as he danced on the pavement.

"'Why did drive the car into the dtich?" I asked.
"Because I have legs."

"Why did you throw your phone out the window."
"Because I have a voice."

"Why did you give all of your money away?"
"Because I have free will."

He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. His smile burned a flame in my soul and his excitement made me tremble.

"Why did you bring me with you?"
"Because I want you to dance too."

posted on Mar, 14 2004 @ 10:45 AM
If you send me a ticket and put it in my mailbox I'll fly to wherever you have gone. But take cover, because even the planes carrying roses can drop bombs and crash to burn.

posted on Mar, 14 2004 @ 10:50 AM
Samuel looked at him from across the table, but he might as well have been peering at Jacob from the Devil's own place in the deep blue sea.

posted on Mar, 15 2004 @ 04:48 PM
"If I am to be judged by those who come after me, let me be judged by the truth."

posted on Mar, 17 2004 @ 03:35 PM
"Tell me, can you do anything without mentioning your name? Sure, Bob Dole doesn't have to always say his name." - BOB DOLE

posted on Mar, 17 2004 @ 03:52 PM
Claim your stake in the world
claim a snake as a pet
between you and your voice
the work will only be half as much

posted on Mar, 17 2004 @ 08:25 PM
writers block...f****** writers just never know when it will sneak into your home, slitting the wrists of reverent bliss and unwavering comprehension of every dimension...

posted on Mar, 25 2004 @ 06:23 AM
Well, I asked for a enter here//and so I enter as a "writer"//but beneath this --It's only me..trying to write a novel,or ever some words that make sence,ok, watch was going on here//I'm afraid of the clock, always thought that my greatest fear is standing on the edge/ or the devil...but this efford//to write some words//gave birth to a new great enemy--this clock in front of me--Somehow Einstein comes in my mind and all those theories ab

**well..end of time...

posted on Mar, 29 2004 @ 07:37 AM
nice one valnta! i like hat
fr some reason i love anything written about writing....ive got tons of crap about writing and stuff like that.

heres a fe w.

not really nothing

i cant write about nothing
without it turning into
that goes alot deeper than just words on a page.

the reason writers controll the fate of history

waiting in a dark room just typing out some thoughful words and superfluous metaphors that only you could understand...this is how the revolution begins...nothing more than words and simple metaphors

[Edited on 3-29-04 by Scat]

posted on Mar, 29 2004 @ 07:40 AM
yeah the media's fast
so im going on a media-fast
i'll outlast reporters on tv
im your modern age ghandi
so dont be lookin out for me
because i havent been this anorexic in the past
the media's fast
im on a media-fast

*yes that means i wont be on ats for a bit, just thought id say farewell

[Edited on 3-29-04 by Scat]

posted on Mar, 31 2004 @ 05:29 AM
ok, here's my second efford on the 60 sec. novel...

She woke up screaming. She had a terrible nightmare. She was so frightened! She sat on the edge of the bed shaking. She wanted to turn on the lights. The moment her feet touched the ground, a hand holding a razor dashed under the bed and cut her ankle with a jerky movement. Blood spurted out of the welled artery. She woke up screaming. She had a terrible nightmare. She was so frightened! She sat on the edge of the bed shaking. She wanted to turn on the lights..

posted on Apr, 4 2004 @ 10:35 AM
Sore losers shouldn't play games...if they can't lose. By:Me

If anyone has played Battlefied 1942...they know what I am talking members leave the losing team to go to the winning the winning team even more of an advantage.

posted on Apr, 5 2004 @ 11:00 PM
The man without an imagination has no wings, so he cant fly

posted on Apr, 5 2004 @ 11:01 PM
Didnt Feel Like Putting This Someplace Else.

He pushes the pedal a bit further
And she inches a little closer

The fog lies heavy on his heart
While the road flutters with excitement

A simple tap on the shoulder
Bring the two together

Her hand slides into his
All of the fears melt away

Hand in hand, eye to eye
Everything seems right

He knew he had Arrived.

He cannot stop time
He just intends to stall

But the minutes add up
The film still rolls by

Was it really only six days?
He thinks time is cheating.

She cannot see him leave
Not like that makes it easier

Driving backwards, out of the blue
And into the black

Love in an envelope
Caring in a shirt

She knows he has Departed. He knows not for long.

posted on Apr, 6 2004 @ 12:03 AM
Golf Mike Oscar Victor Juliet was the last one, the only one that they had managed to get back into flying shape, and now it was five miles out, piloted by the last man fit for the job.

The equipment was shorting out already. North was south, as it had been since the storms started. The communications hadn't worked to begin with. The vehicle had an hour's worth of fuel. And the last bastion of order on the earth had invested all their hopes in Golf Mike Oscar Victor Juliet.

The eye of the hurricane was closing in. He would beat it, or it would stall his rotors and he would die.

He punched the throttle.

On the next day, there was much commotion.

posted on Apr, 12 2004 @ 07:29 AM
wrapped in lust and lunacy, your dream still lies in infamy

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