AceGreatPrank

Most people would associate him with the colour green. Not much creative thinking needed there. He was a plant mage of considerable repute after all and his skills at creating miniature gardens were renowned in lands far from the duchy of Emelan. His many accquaintances of the female persuasion would also link the handsome young man with the verdant colour, speaking fondly of his eyes and the constantly shifting tattoos that adorned his hands. It was even in his name for crying out loud: Briar Moss. A person doesn't get much greener than that. His foster family however, tended to connect the person Briar Moss, to the colour brown. There woul

What would it take for me to drop this completely? It's been more than a year already for crying out loud! More than a year of telling myself to move on; that it was never meant to last anyway; that I'm better off like this. And indeed I am better off. Better off in that I now know I have a choice: linger over you, or break free. I have a choice, and I have chosen. All I have to do now is act, completely and definitively. God only knows when that will be. I still go over the events that happened during those brief encounters we had during 2 of the best years of my life, culminating in the things that occurred during the 3 months of sheer bli

Somehow The notion has entered my mind That as long as I can get it The world will be perfect Then I need it I need it so badly It feels like I'm not me without it Actually A thought just popped into my head Maybe I'll be fine without it The world has been alright Lately I want it I want it like an itch It feels like I should scratch it Rather This urge might just be my mind, in my head, in me, Thinking, figuring, pondering That I can change the world, my world Then, Now and Forever Just give it to me Or better yet, I'll take it myself Break the skin, and be me

Lies. My whole being is made up of lies. Every aspect of me that others see is lies. Or should they be called acting instead? Some people tell lies to comfort their friends. Others lie to hide their misdemeanours. There are those who lie to gain some profit from the world. I lie because I'm self centered. The lying sets me up to be someone I am not, a  someone who has things the real me doesn't. I've lied so much that I find myself unable to distinguish the real me from the made up me. And if I can't, how can anyone else? Perhaps there is no distinction to be had. I've convinced everyone else about my life. With every progressive lie to bol

"A transparent orange in the lip, you say." "That's right. A transparent orange in the lip." "And what exactly does 'a transparent orange in the lip' look like?" "It doesn't look like anything, obviously. It's transparent." "How would you know it's an orange then, if it doesn't look like anything?" "Because it's obviously an orange! Just like how a pane of glass is a window. You just know it!" "Ok… I can see we're getting nowhere fast with this line of questioning. Well, what's the transparent orange doing in the lip then?" "I don't know yet. That's why I'm still staring at your lips." "Next time, just say you feel like kissing m

An easily audible sigh left her lips as she stared at the high ceiling, eyes raised heavenward as though seeking an answer from some higher power. Why me? Did I do something horrible  in a past life or something? Was this idiot some dog I kicked out of my way when I was in a hurry to go shopping? OK, I'm going to pray that he vanishes into thin air. If karma can exist, then my wish should be able to be granted as well. Right? When she lowered her gaze, her visage filled with disappointment as she realized he was still standing there, smirk on full force as always. Guess staring at steel cross beams and fluorescent lighting doesn't do anythi

I tilt my head to the left Clink I tilt my head to the right Clink I shake my head from side to side And the metallic rattling sounds are loud and clear To me; and no one else They fill the space between my ears Resonating and tinkling in my mind I hear the loose screws in my head And I smile because it proves I'm me No one needs to come fix me I'm happier this way

"Bedraggled" The old wooden backdoor creaked open slowly, a small hand grasping its polished brass doorknob tightly as the tussled head of a small boy appeared hesitatingly in the ever widening gap. Slowly the child ventured into the kitchen, tracking muddy little footprints behind him onto the once shiny floor tiles. A small mud splattered puppy followed in his wake, shiny black nose sniffing eagerly above a tiny pink tongue that lolled out of an open mouth, little paws clicking on the cold marble. Sensing that the coast was clear, the boy picked up the puppy and held it close to his chest. With one hand securing the puppy to him and the

"BBBBBBRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"      Jolted awake by the shrill cacophony emanating from the alarm clock, I try to burrow deeper under the covers in my usual vain attempts to ignore the ringing sounds which signify that I must get out of bed. When the alarm clock from hell shows no sign of stopping, I groan in defeat and roll over to the other side of the queen size bed, raising my arm to slam my right hand onto the button atop the offending device. I am still reluctant to leave the bed though, so I just lie there on your side of the bed, enjoying the silence of the room. It's colder here

"Frugal" She was always thrifty, shopping at discount stores for her clothes and buying the cheapest cuts of meat from the market. With one glance, those around her branded her "poor" or "cheap", never realizing what she was saving for. But you always saw the truth, understood what others never bothered to. Because you are her child, the one who sees her fretting over bills but still putting a smile on in front of you every day; sees her putting the biggest and best helpings of everything onto your plate as she says she isn't hungry; sees her go without new clothes to be able to clothe your ever growing body; sees her come home exhaust