At 6/5/2010 12:28:08 AM, Cerebral_Narcissist wrote:
At 6/5/2010 12:25:15 AM, Atheism wrote:
Two ways. One, in a streak of fire and flames and broken dreams and ravished worlds and horrors everywhere that I couldn't fix.
Two) Slowly. Just so I could go in a contemplating sense, gazing over at the ocean through the windows. A single tear would slide down my face.
As you can see, I would prefer to be melodramatic.
If its the former then you should make sure to shake your fist at the heavens.
In the latter, you should probably cradle a black rose and/or a glass of absinthe.
Actually, what I would like to be holding would be a letter. The scene would be something like this: 'I gazed over at the ocean. It was so beautiful these days. It used to be a turquoise blue. I hated blue. Now, its a nice, rich red. I glanced back at the old, yellowed letter in my lap, from my sister, dated about ten years ago, before this mess started. It said that mother died of natural causes. Not murder. I was wrong this entire time. And to think... I killed my own sister because of it... Just because of that one children's game, all this happened. Jumanji. I sighed. I looked out at the ocean again. So calm, and serene, unlike the ravaged world around me. I glanced at my now almond scented tea. I took a sip. And then another one. I eyed the ocean again, where all my past history lied. As the cyanide took affect, a single tear slid down my face.
I miss the old members.