The mwandishi considered. Then the mwandishi wrote:
Two opposites sat on a park bench
The mwandishi deleted
eating their curds and whey
as soon as it was typed, and replaced it with
and one wanted the other to leave.
The critic noted "That's really not very specific, is it? Two 'opposites'? Come on, you're going to have to be zaidi specific than that."
The mwandishi considered. Then the mwandishi wrote:
The Republican sat down inayofuata to the Democrat on the park bench
and nodded, satisfied. The critic clucked his tongue. "Welll...it's not exactly original, is it? And how different are they, really? Honestly, wewe couldn't have had a Peace and Freedomer in there instead? And what's this with focussing on US politics? Isn't that going to alienate most of your readers, who don't live in the US and wouldn't be able to tell why they're supposed to be 'opposites'?"
The mwandishi sighed and the two idealogues slunk away. The mwandishi considered, and finally wrote:
A man and a woman sat on a park bench
and looked at the critic. "Yeeeess...that is better," the critic admitted, "It could lead to a nice contrast, at that. But when it comes down to it, they're not really opposites, are they?" The author's eyebrows rose. "I mean, yeah, they're two different genders and all. But wewe haven't gone into any detail about who they are. Their upbringings could be very similar, and their life situations. For all we know, it could be Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks sitting there, and no one's suggesting that their life experiences have been all that different. Sure, if wewe want to have a couple of well-to-do white urbanites sitting there, kvetching on and on about how different they are, and boo-hoo, how they're never gonna understand each other, go right ahead. But we've seen it a million times - why not choose something a little zaidi extreme?"
The would-be lovers fled as the author's teeth ground together, but, after some further consideration, the mwandishi wrote:
The sleek, tall African warlord stepped up onto the bench and surveyed the surrounding park before slinging his assault bunduki and plopping down inayofuata to the plump, elderly Ukrainian nurse who was fussing over the crippled Asian baby in the isolette inayofuata to her. Their eyes locked and widened in surprise. "You!" they cried in their respective languages.
The author, arms crossed, looked a challenge at the critic. The critic merely snorted. "Feh...they're both human, right?"
The nurse returned her charge to the hospital, and the warlord returned on a subsonic jet to his homeland with a story his tribesmen would never believe. The mwandishi hammered at the keyboard, writing:
George W. kichaka and Buzz Lightyear arrived at the bench simultaneously
"Now you're just being silly," the critic complained, "Besides, both of these guys mangle English and spout nonsense. Opposites? Ha!"
"To infinity and beyond!" Buzz Lightyear declaimed, blasting off into the air. "My point exactly!" the critic smirked as Dubya was hustled back into the bulletproof sedan kwa an apologetic secret service agent.
The mwandishi fumed. Whack. Whack. Whack.
Salt sat inayofuata to pepper on the bench
The critic threw hands into the air in disgust. "THEY'RE BOTH SEASONINGS!"
The shakers exploded and the wind carried the granules to far-off lands.
Steam rose from the author's ears. BAM. BAM. BAM.
Aphrodite and Hades sat on a bench, the air brittle with the tension between them
"Oh, come ON! They're both from the Greek pantheon!"
Aphrodite was borne off kwa a husky chorus of scantily-clad bodybuilders. Hades sniffed in disdain, snapped his fingers and the bench slurped down into the depths of the earth.
The author's fingers, stiff with resentment, had to try three times before successfully typing:
Flames licked at the block of ice as the corner of the frozen bench caught fire
The critic fixed the mwandishi with a pitying stare. "Really? Fire and ice? Are wewe serious? Those are just different temperature states of matter. They're not necessarily a different material, and certainly not opposites at all."
The mwandishi wept, head in hands. After a while, the author, brow beaded with sweat, tentatively typed out:
Good sat primly inayofuata to Evil on a parkbench
and looked sideways at the critic, barely suppressing a whimper.
The critic sighed heavily. "Look," the critic began, "I don't mean to be harsh, but is that really the best wewe can do? Good vs. Evil? Those are both rather subjective, aren't they? As such, they're both products of a aliyopewa belief system. The best wewe could say is that Good is doing what you're supposed to do in a aliyopewa system, and Evil is not doing good. So they're not opposites - one is just the absence of the other!"
The mwandishi brightened and nodded.
Something sat on a bench inayofuata to Nothing...and was satisfied.
Two opposites sat on a park bench
The mwandishi deleted
eating their curds and whey
as soon as it was typed, and replaced it with
and one wanted the other to leave.
The critic noted "That's really not very specific, is it? Two 'opposites'? Come on, you're going to have to be zaidi specific than that."
The mwandishi considered. Then the mwandishi wrote:
The Republican sat down inayofuata to the Democrat on the park bench
and nodded, satisfied. The critic clucked his tongue. "Welll...it's not exactly original, is it? And how different are they, really? Honestly, wewe couldn't have had a Peace and Freedomer in there instead? And what's this with focussing on US politics? Isn't that going to alienate most of your readers, who don't live in the US and wouldn't be able to tell why they're supposed to be 'opposites'?"
The mwandishi sighed and the two idealogues slunk away. The mwandishi considered, and finally wrote:
A man and a woman sat on a park bench
and looked at the critic. "Yeeeess...that is better," the critic admitted, "It could lead to a nice contrast, at that. But when it comes down to it, they're not really opposites, are they?" The author's eyebrows rose. "I mean, yeah, they're two different genders and all. But wewe haven't gone into any detail about who they are. Their upbringings could be very similar, and their life situations. For all we know, it could be Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks sitting there, and no one's suggesting that their life experiences have been all that different. Sure, if wewe want to have a couple of well-to-do white urbanites sitting there, kvetching on and on about how different they are, and boo-hoo, how they're never gonna understand each other, go right ahead. But we've seen it a million times - why not choose something a little zaidi extreme?"
The would-be lovers fled as the author's teeth ground together, but, after some further consideration, the mwandishi wrote:
The sleek, tall African warlord stepped up onto the bench and surveyed the surrounding park before slinging his assault bunduki and plopping down inayofuata to the plump, elderly Ukrainian nurse who was fussing over the crippled Asian baby in the isolette inayofuata to her. Their eyes locked and widened in surprise. "You!" they cried in their respective languages.
The author, arms crossed, looked a challenge at the critic. The critic merely snorted. "Feh...they're both human, right?"
The nurse returned her charge to the hospital, and the warlord returned on a subsonic jet to his homeland with a story his tribesmen would never believe. The mwandishi hammered at the keyboard, writing:
George W. kichaka and Buzz Lightyear arrived at the bench simultaneously
"Now you're just being silly," the critic complained, "Besides, both of these guys mangle English and spout nonsense. Opposites? Ha!"
"To infinity and beyond!" Buzz Lightyear declaimed, blasting off into the air. "My point exactly!" the critic smirked as Dubya was hustled back into the bulletproof sedan kwa an apologetic secret service agent.
The mwandishi fumed. Whack. Whack. Whack.
Salt sat inayofuata to pepper on the bench
The critic threw hands into the air in disgust. "THEY'RE BOTH SEASONINGS!"
The shakers exploded and the wind carried the granules to far-off lands.
Steam rose from the author's ears. BAM. BAM. BAM.
Aphrodite and Hades sat on a bench, the air brittle with the tension between them
"Oh, come ON! They're both from the Greek pantheon!"
Aphrodite was borne off kwa a husky chorus of scantily-clad bodybuilders. Hades sniffed in disdain, snapped his fingers and the bench slurped down into the depths of the earth.
The author's fingers, stiff with resentment, had to try three times before successfully typing:
Flames licked at the block of ice as the corner of the frozen bench caught fire
The critic fixed the mwandishi with a pitying stare. "Really? Fire and ice? Are wewe serious? Those are just different temperature states of matter. They're not necessarily a different material, and certainly not opposites at all."
The mwandishi wept, head in hands. After a while, the author, brow beaded with sweat, tentatively typed out:
Good sat primly inayofuata to Evil on a parkbench
and looked sideways at the critic, barely suppressing a whimper.
The critic sighed heavily. "Look," the critic began, "I don't mean to be harsh, but is that really the best wewe can do? Good vs. Evil? Those are both rather subjective, aren't they? As such, they're both products of a aliyopewa belief system. The best wewe could say is that Good is doing what you're supposed to do in a aliyopewa system, and Evil is not doing good. So they're not opposites - one is just the absence of the other!"
The mwandishi brightened and nodded.
Something sat on a bench inayofuata to Nothing...and was satisfied.
upendo wewe forever is about a girl who lives in a town, and has a few friends, she is every teachers "Perfect Student". A new boy and his sister songesha to town, and they fall in love. her father doesnt approve of the boy. the girl and boy plan to run away 2gether with his sister and her boyfriend. but her father makes her songesha towns. she is forced 2 go 2 a all girls school, she is Lost and alone, so she turns 2 suicide. the boy and his sister find her and they take her out of school and run away 2gether and promise to upendo each other forever. but her father finds out and shoots the boy, the girl is in pain and so is his sister so they run away from their lives and live new ones, under false identities, until her father finds her and kills both of them. (btw the father is crazy)
ok so now i need ur opinions. is it 2 borin, au does it have a chance...
please tell me your true opinions.
ok so now i need ur opinions. is it 2 borin, au does it have a chance...
please tell me your true opinions.
im so sick.
im sick of everything about you.
i hate what wewe say,
what wewe do,
everything.
it sets off some spark,
that just angers me inside and out.
im so sick.
im sick of your laugh,
your smile,
your eyes,
everything.
i hate how wewe talk to me,
how wewe treat me,
what wewe think of me as.
im not your toy,
im not your anything.
i dont belong to you,
im not a possession.
im just me.
and im so sick.
sick of everything in this godforsaken world.
especially you.
and i dont want to be something
that hates and is sick
of everything.
im just sick of you.
and honestly...
i dont want to be with you
anymore.
im so sick.
im sick of everything about you.
i hate what wewe say,
what wewe do,
everything.
it sets off some spark,
that just angers me inside and out.
im so sick.
im sick of your laugh,
your smile,
your eyes,
everything.
i hate how wewe talk to me,
how wewe treat me,
what wewe think of me as.
im not your toy,
im not your anything.
i dont belong to you,
im not a possession.
im just me.
and im so sick.
sick of everything in this godforsaken world.
especially you.
and i dont want to be something
that hates and is sick
of everything.
im just sick of you.
and honestly...
i dont want to be with you
anymore.
im so sick.
i cant take any more
of these drugs.
the poison,
attacking at my veins,
moto spreading through,
cant breathe.
but i need these,
and i must feel this
in order to get better.
no matter what it takes,
i have to get over you.
and even if this is
the most irrational way
to get over you,
i still intend on doing this.
i dont care how many needles
i must pierce through my arms,
how many seizures i must suffer through,
whatever it takes.
im going to do my best
to forget wewe even exist.
i dont care how much cocaine i snuff,
how many pills i take,
how many cuts
slice through my skin,
au even if i end up
killing myself in the process.
i would be so lucky.
so,whatever it takes
to get over you
is the extreme
im going to have to
accomplish.
i dont care if i live,
i dont care if i die,
i dont care if all of this
is even real au not.
im just going to do
whatever it takes
to get wewe out of my mind.
even if i die...
of these drugs.
the poison,
attacking at my veins,
moto spreading through,
cant breathe.
but i need these,
and i must feel this
in order to get better.
no matter what it takes,
i have to get over you.
and even if this is
the most irrational way
to get over you,
i still intend on doing this.
i dont care how many needles
i must pierce through my arms,
how many seizures i must suffer through,
whatever it takes.
im going to do my best
to forget wewe even exist.
i dont care how much cocaine i snuff,
how many pills i take,
how many cuts
slice through my skin,
au even if i end up
killing myself in the process.
i would be so lucky.
so,whatever it takes
to get over you
is the extreme
im going to have to
accomplish.
i dont care if i live,
i dont care if i die,
i dont care if all of this
is even real au not.
im just going to do
whatever it takes
to get wewe out of my mind.
even if i die...
Once upon a time There was a girl named Abby. She loved to talk. Her teachers eventually stopped calling on her.
One day, she talked during a moto while a kid in her class was telling her teacher where the 17 other children were.
The teacher couldn't here her, and the tafuta for the children lasted twelve hours. During that time, a gang aliiba five computers, three cars, seventeen dogs, and blackmailed the mayor into giving them seven grand.
Abby was expelled from the school.
When she told her parents, they imediately looked for a school for her to go to.
But the only school that gave her acceptence was the class in the juvinille deliquent center.
So she was nyumbani schooled.
But she caused her parents so much trouble that in a week they Lost their all hair and were standing on the thin line between sanity and the nut house.
So they duct-taped her mouth shut.
THE END
One day, she talked during a moto while a kid in her class was telling her teacher where the 17 other children were.
The teacher couldn't here her, and the tafuta for the children lasted twelve hours. During that time, a gang aliiba five computers, three cars, seventeen dogs, and blackmailed the mayor into giving them seven grand.
Abby was expelled from the school.
When she told her parents, they imediately looked for a school for her to go to.
But the only school that gave her acceptence was the class in the juvinille deliquent center.
So she was nyumbani schooled.
But she caused her parents so much trouble that in a week they Lost their all hair and were standing on the thin line between sanity and the nut house.
So they duct-taped her mouth shut.
THE END
As I grow to think about it zaidi and more, and understand it zaidi and more, I see that, as the saying goes, life is like a game of chess. But I have made my own saying up, which seems zaidi true to me. Life is like a venture into the unknown. wewe never know what might await wewe next, zaidi dangers, au even happy successes. But one thing is for certain, wewe cannot always be happy, au always be depressed. Life is like a mountain. wewe climb it, face all the challenges life brings you. wewe dump and break up, wewe win and make up. Things happen. wewe can't control it most of the time. So never blame yourself for bad things that happened to wewe in life. Life gets confusing a lot. But I still strive to reach my goals. Without goals, I would be like a broken-winged bird that could not fly. I would be aimless. I would not become better, build my character. Life is like a venture into the unknown, and I believe that to be true. So true.