"I have never quite understood that “pronoun”."
Furtuna Sheremeti 
HE

He was always a pure mystery.
A shapeless shadow.
A shape that left no trace and made no shade.

He was different.

The thought of tomorrow did not preoccupy him much.
Wishes of yesterday made him sweaty during the night but never made him cry.
Dreams of tomorrow never scared him to death.
Because he dreamt a little but rationalized a lot.
Logic destroyed him, killed his shadows and created in his blood the syndrome of rationalism which made him immune towards suffering.

By being like this – most of the time he was quiet.
People never knew him for what he was rather than for what he showed.
And he…well he never showed much.

With everything he showed he surrounded you with the thought of living with an enigma.
A ‘killing enigma’ as time might like to call it.
The curiosity for that enigma killed you.
Made you scream, run back and forth, shout, punch him, throw dust in his eyes and run away.
Then it made you come back again within the track of rational thoughts and with only a smile exceed that whole mystery without a single question.

Because he didn’t like questions.
Nor did he give the appropriate space to the answers.
All he did were declarations about life, time, loss, fate…but never about love.
Love probably was his Achilles Heel.
Who knows?

I have never quite understood that “pronoun”.
Was it a dream? A thought? Imagination? A tricky creation?
I do not know.

All I know is that he is somewhere out there, breathing in a cusp of someone else’s dream.
One day he might become an inspiration for a poem written by another pronoun – HER.
He has to be her shelter.
As complicated and impossible as he is …he should find another pronoun.

He will meet HER one day.

Maybe they will meet tomorrow.
They may meet today.
As long as they hadn’t already met but haven’t recognized each-other.


This is all that matters.

"owly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  ________(fr"
John Stevens 

Author:  Kristen Stevens
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Current mood:outside the loop

And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there.

ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see.

Once upon a time there was a _ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil _(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _(name of a god). The girl __(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _(noun). She__(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most __(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was _(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _(noun) slowly, with still no relief for _(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  _(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with__(weapon of choice from popular video game).

It had been one week, since the demise of _(object). She no longer was _(emotion). The days were literally _(color). Rain fell _(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe.

This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the
___{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors

By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?

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