Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
"We can never go back again, that much is curtain. The past is still too close to us. The things we have tried to forget and put behind us stir again, and that sense of fear, of furtive unrest, struggling at length to blind unreasoning panic - now mercifully stilled, thank God - might in some manner unforeseen become a living companion, as it had been before..."
You've seen how expression in any shape or form on any topic you could possibly think of only makes things worse. The reason I am so un-wanting of conversion at horse shows is because the second I walk into the ring I go blank and I forget everything I have ever learned back home. Then I hate how people tell me what I'm doing wrong. Once I get out it all comes back to me so telling me does not help. I don't want someone reminding me of my faults. I hate acting. That's why I never took drama. I act every day, I don't want to take a class on it. It seems to me I've done a pretty good job at it because everyone still thinks I'm just shy. But what do they know?
My devil has risen in me but I am not able to conquer it. I'm fighting but I own the duller sward. I've been cut and bleeding for some time but I am alone to fight back and to win. I do not see a victory in my near future though. I'm scared. Scared of life in general. I've never been so terribly frightened. Things couldn't get any worse. Well I guess they could, this is just the worse so far. I need to be alone - alone with my thoughts. With no school work pounding me and no family to hassle me. No trainers or teachers to correct me and no friends to betray me
What happens to a thought untold?
Does it dry up
Like a puddle in the sun?
Or does it fester
Like a sore and then run?
Does it disappear
Like a ghost in the night
Or does it pick a fight
Like a child fuming in fright?
Maybe it just folds up
Like a letter unsent
Or does it get spent?
What happens to a promise forgotten?
Does it jump up and down
Like a child having fun?
Or does it fall down
Like a klutz and then run?
Does it disappear
Like a ghost in the night?
Or does it pick a fight
Like a child fuming in fright?
Maybe it just sits and waits
Like a guard at a gate
Or does it seek fate?
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