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~iiyamuzai

Eiri Maizuru
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Din 8 - Love                                      Love is a four-letter word.   
My big sister, Kara, is in town. She brought her new boyfriend with her. His name is Todd. She thinks she's in love. He smells like pot.   
I can't look at anyone in my family anymore, it seems [with the exception of Sissy, whose barely five years old]. There's always either regret or disgust in my mind for them. I'm getting tired of saying, "I'm okay."   
I Din 8 - Love
by ~iiyamuzai
Din 7 - Something Real Anyone can pretend. In fact, its easier to pretend. Talk is cheap. Could you be something real?   
Its sad, to feel so bad for people older than you. When someone is so down that you can feel pity for them, even when they've lived longer, its heartbreaking.   
My Advanced Sculpting teacher, Mister Macay, has been my sculpting teacher since my Freshman year. He's very bright and wise and inspiring; easy to get along with. At least, that's how he used to be. On April 16th of this year, when my Sophomore year was coming to a close, there was a shooting at Virginia Tech, in Blacksburg, Virginia. Macay's youngest sister had be Din 7 - Something Real
by ~iiyamuzai
Din 6 - With His Shadow in Tow                   He walks along, with his shadow in tow, and wonders what he really knows.   
Have you ever seen something so simple, yet so amazing, that you want to remember for the rest of your life, but you're not sure if you can? Whether that's because its too beautiful, or you just can't remember that little for that long.   
Walking home from school today [my car has become too depressing for me], I had the privelage of walking past a very captivating individual. An old black man--late forties, early fifties?--on my side of the sidewalk. He was walking with a cane, but he didn't seem to have a limp or a twitch, as Din 6 - With His Shadow in Tow
by ~iiyamuzai
Din 5 - Sunday Morning                 Its Sunday morning that I miss you the most.   
Sunday. I think Aunt Martha misses going to church. "I'm sorry," I want to tell her. "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I asked to stop going. I'm sorry I killed the faith."   
She never asked a lot from me. Not after Uncle Nate died. Not after Kara moved out and I was the only one that could look after Sissy while everyone else was at work. Not after word came in about our parents. Not after I seperated from myself and became less than all I ever was. She never asked for more Din 5 - Sunday Morning
by ~iiyamuzai
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