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I'm fine. It's a lie. I am not fine. My head is a symphony of pain, a sadistic master maestro conducting an opus of excruciating, devastating perfecting.

Kiersten White

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Kiersten White
Age: 41
Born: 1983
Born: June 27
Author
Writer
Utah
United States
Kiersten Brazier
Master
Opus
Masters
Maestro
Fine
Perfecting
Head
Excruciating
Lying
Sadistic
Pain
Conducting
Devastating
Symphony

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My life is a black hole of boredom and despair. So basically you've been doing homework. Like I said, black hole.
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Planning is not my friend. Impulse is.
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I am the ocean we lived on for two months. I am empty. I am nothing.
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Jack was balancing a spoon on his nose when I walked in. You, I said knocking it off his face. Me! He answered cheerfully.
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You just can't help topping your own levels of crazy,can you?
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Oh relax. I waved my hand dismissively. If he wanted to kill me, he already would have. I brought him all these sharp pencils, ideal for stabbing, and he's been a perfect gentleman.
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Actually, you’re way off.” “Oh?” the guard asked. “Yup. She’s not a werewolf, she’s a chupacabra. Have you noticed a lot of missing goats lately?
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Evie-you-GAH! Lend shouted, and I looked up at him, surprised.
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In the interest of not pissing you off anymore tonight, let's not select that particular playlist.
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Guy's a psychopath,even by vampire standards. And that's saying something.
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Told you I was going to mess up your make up, he said, a smug grin on his face.
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Where are you going? I asked, feeling guilty for not being able to hang out with him. To find a faerie to kill me, of course. He winked at us, then pretended to fall straight through when the faerie door opened. Even Arianna laughed as the door closed behind him.
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So who do you want to be?” I smiled, resting my head against his chest. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m looking forward to finding out.
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It's a good thing we're pretty to look at, I said as Lend sat down on the orange plastic seats next to me. Because we don't have much else going for us as bowlers.
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Maybe I'm weird, but watching Lend drive was sexy.
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Fabulous Jack said, reaching down and plucking a crimson flower. A small scream sounded from it as he severed the stem. He smiled maliciously, then started stomping with abandon through the beds of blossoms, a chorus of tinny, shrill screams punctuating every step.
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Being dead wasn't supposed to hurt. Where was the fairness in that? If I was dead, the least the universe could do was make it painless
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Jack might look my age, but he was like a little kid on a sugar high --- in need of a good spanking. --- Good heavens, that sounded creepy.
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- Control what an interesting word for you to be dwelling on - I have other words I scream the F-Word in my head, over and over again.
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He's just a little unbalanced and lonely. He put his arms around my waist, frowning. Can't he be lonely and unbalanced around someone else's girlfriend? I'll suggest it.
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