

The Voices of ReasonTo the casual observer, the only thing that seemed to be moving were the bare trees in that bitter November wind. They couldn’t know that the turbulent thoughts in her head whirled faster than the wind that was whipping her short hair against her face and into her eyes. But there she stood, impervious to the natural chaos around her, simply staring in that unseeing manner at the old house, focused on the war inside her. She stood outside the building eyeing the stairs with apprehension, visibly afraid to go in. It was an old house, large, brick with wooden shutters around each of the windows. Typical of other old houses in that area of MassacThe Voices of Reason


"As yet, untitled"Jason wasn’t paying attention. He quite frankly couldn’t care less how this conversation went. But he knew, in the darkest recesses of his mind, that his parents money would win out. It always did. That was the way it always worked, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter what he did, the schools always took him back, because, let’s face it, who would turn down a child whose parents would then donate the money needed to build that new gym, or library, and don’t forget the new computer lab, equipped for 75 students and a teacher, new programs included. This would be the third time he would be accepted to Midera, the second time after being expelled. See,"As yet, untitled"
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Visit my other account @ [link]
or me @ [link]
I'll keep updating the photograph as it draws closer and closer to it's end.
I'm punny.
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El camino es diferente para cada uno
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*~ << I wanna feel your bumping beats >> ~*
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- The rain of your insults don't touch the umbrella of my indifference -
Visit the stock account I created with my friend !
~sugar-ange-stock
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