A butterfly. How delicately she flies, how softly her wings indent the breeze, so fragile, so yet undeniably beautiful. She had often found herself wondering, how such a faint being can take flight, against the continuous forces rising against her. Yet once again the wings keep beating, unfazed and unaltered سے طرف کی fear. Can a being with such a dainty appearance remain true of heart, when all around her seems lost?
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each دیا choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, یا are آپ riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this سوال a سال ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told آپ with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden گھاس beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined سے طرف کی another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one دن become no مزید than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing مزید than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once مزید filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once مزید be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each دیا choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, یا are آپ riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this سوال a سال ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told آپ with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden گھاس beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined سے طرف کی another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one دن become no مزید than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing مزید than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once مزید filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once مزید be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
im in the devils playground
dont know anyone round here
i will try to stand my ground
and not let anyone sense my fear
cant confisgate a reality that is based on lies
i will not negociate with my pride
foolish as i was i am no longer that person
yes try to hold my gaze
my will wont lesson
and i am in the devils playground
i have my own toys
i try to not look around
to the erie noise
scrapping nails apon the pavement
and dried blood up on the walls
a smell that so nauseating
i feel i might fall
light headed i cant be
not in this place anyways
i walk further trying to find a way out of this place.
how did i get here where did i go wrong my morbid curisoty
of a unrealistic song.driven to a brink thats almost sickning
i cant find myself.a way out of the devils playground. my own personal hell
dont know anyone round here
i will try to stand my ground
and not let anyone sense my fear
cant confisgate a reality that is based on lies
i will not negociate with my pride
foolish as i was i am no longer that person
yes try to hold my gaze
my will wont lesson
and i am in the devils playground
i have my own toys
i try to not look around
to the erie noise
scrapping nails apon the pavement
and dried blood up on the walls
a smell that so nauseating
i feel i might fall
light headed i cant be
not in this place anyways
i walk further trying to find a way out of this place.
how did i get here where did i go wrong my morbid curisoty
of a unrealistic song.driven to a brink thats almost sickning
i cant find myself.a way out of the devils playground. my own personal hell
consider me warned i have been scorn to breach a life i envisioned for us
i will not mourn anymore. my دل conflicting a war a rage inside i cant deny what آپ have taken from me im in a blissful state of insanity i will not wake on my own i have lost all my rights to humanity i am so torn.walking away as آپ did i wasnt your equal i felt like a kid i wanted to die right there lay down my tears no longer did i care how could آپ leave did آپ not feel the pull.another of my delusions i am such a fool.why couldnt i be enough.i will always love you
i will not mourn anymore. my دل conflicting a war a rage inside i cant deny what آپ have taken from me im in a blissful state of insanity i will not wake on my own i have lost all my rights to humanity i am so torn.walking away as آپ did i wasnt your equal i felt like a kid i wanted to die right there lay down my tears no longer did i care how could آپ leave did آپ not feel the pull.another of my delusions i am such a fool.why couldnt i be enough.i will always love you
My پسندیدہ scene in new moon is the breakup. Now, before آپ say I'm not a TRUE twilight fan, think about it. If Edward didn't leave, Jacob would cease to exist(metaphorically speaking, of course). Then, Bella would be staying human. No Renesmee, no wedding, and no Jacob Black. آپ might be thinking,well, Edward would change her sooner یا later, right? Wrong. I hope I'm not spoiling anything, but remember in eclipse when Edward کہا he got over his taste for her blood? Do آپ remember why? If he didn't leave, he would be too afraid to try. New moon is all about the breakup, and Jacob edging his way into Bella's life. Yep, I'm talking to you, Team Jacob. If آپ really like Jacob, آپ see things like me.
Edward Cullen (born Edward Anthony Masen) was born on June 20, 1901 in Chicago, Illinois, and is frozen in his 17-year-old body. While dying of the Spanish influenza, he was changed into a vampire سے طرف کی Dr. Carlisle Cullen after Edward's mother, Elizabeth, begged him to save Edward as her dying wish. Edward only drinks animal blood and has the special ability to read minds, with the exception of Bella Swan's. He falls in love with Bella soon after she arrives in Forks. Edward knows that he could kill Bella easily, a fact that torments him so much that, in the book New Moon, he decides to leave Forks with his family so they won't be able to hurt her. He returns, however, because he realizes he cannot live without her. Edward marries Bella in Breaking Dawn and they have a child, Renesmee.