Where The Light Is

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fences

this is the deep and dying breath

give my gun away when it's loaded

the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you

because this road is all you'll ever have

plugin&play If you read, you will judge. the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return
My Dear we're slow dancing in a burning room	Saturday, December 6, 2008, 1:22 AM Its a cold and its a broken hallelujah He sat on the marble steps of the old church, hymns of hallelujah flowed out from behind closed wooden doors, shutting out the cold that so daringly threatened to break through. He shivered outside, he sat outside, he waited outside. Just waiting. A distant memory pictured his mother saying the words "Happy Birthday Alfie" exactly one year ago on that very day, those last words from a mother to a child before a car had come and hugged mother, she lay there on the ground quite still, she didn't wake up for afew days and the people who carried her away said she had died. He didn't know what a birthday was, nor did he know what death had meant, but he had written them down on his list of new words learnt, scribbled it next to "cold" and "bench". Nobody had told him, but he remembered mother mentioning his age once, and if his calculations were right, he was turning 6 this year. Hymns stopped, and bolted doors slammed open, sending snow cascading down the marble steps where he sat, anticipation in his heart, he cupped his hands and smiled, looking hopefully from shadow to shadow, from each expecting a bigger suprise. Nothing. "Don't they know its my happy birthday?" He had said to one shadow, breadcrumbs were thrown at his face, not much, but he lapped it up anyway. Better than the usual hard shove to the brick walls. An old man had passed and thrown a small shiny disc at his feet, he had seen this around before, the big people called it a "coin". T'was a funny name for a disc. He left the place with a pocketfull of crumbs and loose thread that had come off of people's clothes. They weren't much of birthday gifts, but they had to do. He rapped on everyone's door down the street telling them it was his birthday and asked if they had gotten him a nice present. But most of them had slammed the door shut, twice had the door struck him and made red stuff flow from his nose. He went back to the corner of the alley where he lived, the red stuff had now formed a trail behind him and he couldn't feel his head very well. He took out the thread and crumbs and cradled them in his arms. "My happy birthday presents. Mine." He hugged his presents to sleep, waiting for mother to wake up and give him that cake she had promised a year ago, he missed mother, she's been sleeping an awful long time and hasnt woken up since, but he hoped anyway. He waited for something better. The red stuff now seemed to pool around him, and he felt cold, at least, he thought he did, judging from the dictionary he had stolen and read from. He couldn't feel much of anything now, even the crumbs and thread felt weightless on his palms. He lay down on the cobblestone ground and closed his eyes. The red stuff now forming a waterway down the alley. When he opened his eyes, he saw mother again, she smiled and took him by the hand, "Happy Birthday Alfie." ao		the machiavellian ist Vanity isn't a sin, a little narcissm wouldn't hurt. The World would be a much lesser place without corndogs and pizzas. Facebook Andrew. Music. Food. People. What more could you possibly want?		partnersincrime One day when i wake up and find the motive and time to link anybody, i'll let you know. backtoyesterday + I'm all choked up and you're ok + We're halfway there + Try Whistling This + Make it out alive + More than you could ever know + So kiss me goodbye + The fear you won't fall + Pointless Nostalgic + Let' make it last forever + On the corner of the street wheni'mgone + April 2007 + May 2007 + June 2007 + July 2007 + August 2007 + September 2007 + October 2007 + November 2007 + December 2007 + January 2008 + February 2008 + March 2008 + April 2008 + May 2008 + June 2008 + July 2008 + August 2008 + September 2008 + October 2008 + November 2008 + December 2008 + January 2009 + February 2009 + March 2009 + April 2009 + May 2009 + June 2009 + July 2009 + August 2009 + September 2009 + October 2009 + November 2009 + December 2009 + January 2010 + February 2010 + March 2010 + April 2010 + June 2010 + July 2010 + August 2010 + September 2010 + October 2010 + November 2010 + December 2010 + January 2011 + February 2011 + March 2011 + April 2011 takeabow An accidentality production Inspiration from DancingSheep & BONBON:D		theventingmachine