I Just, Don'tIf you Sing me a Song,I'll sing along with you.If you Write me a Poem,I'll smile broadly for you.If you Make me a Painting,I'll hold your hand and you,You'll think I love you.But you'll be wrong.Because everything you didfor me was hollow,was meaningless. There was nolove put into it, so none willcome out of it. Emptiness begetsEmptiness.I will never love you untilyou put actual time, effort,real loving passion into whatever it is you want me to have. Because ifthat never happens, how am I to know some other girl isn't getting this treatment,too?When you decide that I deserveall that you can give me
When I Feel Sad . . .Whenever I feel sad, I feel like I can't breathe. Like I'm trapped in a bubble and there's no needle in sight to let me out. Like there's some shadow looming over me and no oil for my little lamp. Like I'm locked up in the tower of 400 feet with no prince on horseback to come and save me. Like an inky black sky without a shooting star to light me up, with no stardust to weigh down my eyelashes and put me to sleep. And everything is closing in on me like some terrible horror movie plot, walls trimmed with spikes slowly moving in toward me and no way out. And the water's rising too fast to keep track of and I suddenly find myself pressed agains
30 Minutes Chp. 2 He stared at the boy for a few seconds, maybe even a minute, half expecting him to vanish before his disbelieving eyes. This wouldn't have been the first hallucination he saw, after all, so what was to stop him from thinking this was another one? He didn't dare touch the child, though he was only a few feet away, for fear that he might not be there when his arm extended or, worse, he would be. "There's no way . . ." he whispered to himself, "No." "Z-Zim?" Dib repeated, "Is that . . . you?" The boy's glasses were cracked and murky-looking, and he was so weak that he wasn't sure he was real himself. Zim looked the human over one more time b
30 Minutes Ch. 1 His boots squeaked against the hard gravel behind him as he walked. This place looked so different now, although it had only been a year or so. He no longer required his disguise to go out, which was nice. After all, who was there to see? He'd gotten rid of the HUMANS long ago, or at least it felt like long ago. Those filthy creatures were getting on his nerves, anyway. He walked the empty, untouched, almost peaceful (if not for the ridiculously obvious signs of destruction) streets quietly. He was almost never quiet when he was on his own, but this time there was something . . . . keeping him from rambling aimlessly to himself. It was jus