If we go threw our universe, we come on end of it. Our eyes see it like shadow, it’s cold and slimy, but if we are enough careful, we will see…
…we will se nothing. Our eyes aren’t made to see this material; like mice can not see glass, we can’t see this material called Transparent Dust or Samíbi like human–shape being call it.
They are almost like people. Difference is just in hair and body language. It’s maybe impossible how any person can have different body language than you, but these beings called Pobabs have. When they are happy they lie down on belly, close their eyes and start to singing war songs. Their houses are like postboxes, maybe a little more round. Hierarchy is defined by number of gold hair on their head. Less gold hair somebody has, higher he is in hierarchy. If two of Pobabs have same number of gold hair is worthier these one who has shorter hair. Pobabs mustn’t ever cut their hair. Automatically are women inferior; men have hair just one meter long, but women at less five meters.
Pobabs don’t call themselves males and females, but Morícks and Lorícks; that mean: moral and less moral.
They have eaten vegetables. Fruit is poison for them. Meat is comfortable for all of them, but they mustn’t get it, something like sin. But sins are punished with death. It’s problem if you want to say sorry Umans, because you have to go on Umanen. Umans are souls of good gods, they can forgive you your sin, and they live in Umanen crater.
Umanen crater is made by comet which hit ground 14 millions years ago. But it’s guarded by souls of evil gods called Ghistues. So many Pobabs rather chose death than fighting with Ghistues.
One day was one Moríck on tomato field. In one moment he heard straight voice and than one big bag fell before him. He looked in it very carefully, and what he has seen…?
…we will se nothing. Our eyes aren’t made to see this material; like mice can not see glass, we can’t see this material called Transparent Dust or Samíbi like human–shape being call it.
They are almost like people. Difference is just in hair and body language. It’s maybe impossible how any person can have different body language than you, but these beings called Pobabs have. When they are happy they lie down on belly, close their eyes and start to singing war songs. Their houses are like postboxes, maybe a little more round. Hierarchy is defined by number of gold hair on their head. Less gold hair somebody has, higher he is in hierarchy. If two of Pobabs have same number of gold hair is worthier these one who has shorter hair. Pobabs mustn’t ever cut their hair. Automatically are women inferior; men have hair just one meter long, but women at less five meters.
Pobabs don’t call themselves males and females, but Morícks and Lorícks; that mean: moral and less moral.
They have eaten vegetables. Fruit is poison for them. Meat is comfortable for all of them, but they mustn’t get it, something like sin. But sins are punished with death. It’s problem if you want to say sorry Umans, because you have to go on Umanen. Umans are souls of good gods, they can forgive you your sin, and they live in Umanen crater.
Umanen crater is made by comet which hit ground 14 millions years ago. But it’s guarded by souls of evil gods called Ghistues. So many Pobabs rather chose death than fighting with Ghistues.
One day was one Moríck on tomato field. In one moment he heard straight voice and than one big bag fell before him. He looked in it very carefully, and what he has seen…?
Ever since my family died down to be just me.... I`ve been alone since they died in a car accident. I got out fine (only with cuts and a migrane), but they died. I now live with my grandpa... but he doesn't get me..... I cut my self, dresss diffrently, and never really talk.
4 days after the funeral for my family.... I became Emo. But the day my Family died, something changed within me..... something good went rotten.
My Grandpa see's it, but ignores my pain and anger... only if that drunk driver that hit us was sober and never... spun out of control. Some day I hope his heart gives out and he dies in jail.
Does any one feel the same?
4 days after the funeral for my family.... I became Emo. But the day my Family died, something changed within me..... something good went rotten.
My Grandpa see's it, but ignores my pain and anger... only if that drunk driver that hit us was sober and never... spun out of control. Some day I hope his heart gives out and he dies in jail.
Does any one feel the same?
I live in my opinion possibly the most ghetto town in the United States, Pittsburgh. People have been committing suicide all over town. Population all over town has been decreasing, fast. Some of my friends were so depressed that they were thinking about "joining the crowd". I wouldn't live without my friends. I don't want my friends to go as well as my mom and dad. Yes, I'm an orphan. I've been an orphan for about three weeks. My friends have disappeared. I think they went to Clarion; but I could be wrong. There have been tons of fights at my school. Most of the people that were committing suicide were middle school and high school aged. I was getting really tired really fast. I climbed up in a tree and found a comfortable spot and fell asleep. Next thing I knew, I was tied up on a pole.
Sorry for cliffhangers....
Sorry for cliffhangers....
"No,no,no! Ponny, you're supposed to sound scared. like this, 'AAAA! The Coopestells! They're back!'" Hilisia said. She said the line terrifiying. Ponya rolled her eyes. "If I say it any more frighted, my eyes will pop out! And anyway, you're NOT the director. I'm doing it wrong when Mr.Figgsten says so." Ponya snapped back. "Ok girls, from the top!" The girls got ready. Then suddenly, Ponya stretched her arm out to Hilisia(Luci) And said, "Luci! LOOK OUT!" "What? What Brenda?" "AAAA! The Coopestells! They're back!" "EEEEEEK!" "RUN!!!" They both said. Then the scene ended as they ran off stage. "Perfect!" Mr.Figgsten yelled. Huffing and puffing, the girls came offstage. "Hey you guys I know it's short notice, but we will have to shoot the rest of the film in New jersey