The world begins to disappear The worst things come from inside here All the king's men reappear For an eggman, on and off the wall Who'll never be together again
Why am I the only person in the entirety of the world who actually responds to emails? Or any letter of any kind? One would think that people write emails to receive responces, right? Well, if they do t for themselves, then WHY THE HECK shouldn't they do the second half for me? Take Jinger, for example. "I love being your pen-pal" she says. And all I did was send her a birthday card- nothing that warrented a responce. But she did respond, and then I did to her. But, including the 6 days total it takes for a snail mail letter to go from one mailbox to another ANYWHERE in the continental USA, it takes her more than a month to write a few measley sentences. Seriously, these letters have less information in them than a loaf of white bread. Now, I do give myself credit for reforming some people. Jesse used to take months to write an email- but then I sent her what some would consider hate-mail and made her cry and now she writes me much more often. =) Others, though, are beyond help- Emily insists that she LOVES writing emails as much as she like getting them, but little does she realize that she responds to my letters about 1/3 of the time. Aren't I a little over-zealous? you ask. No, actually, I ain't. This world is getting crazy enough without people randomly cutting off communication from their friends.
In the beginning, there was nothing at all but the moon and the sun. And the moon wanted to come out during the day, but there was something so much brighter that seemed to fill up all those hours. The moon grew hungier, thinner and thinner, until she was just a slice of herself, and her tips were as sharp as a knife. By accident, because that is the way most things happen, she poked a hole in the night and out spilled a million stars, like a fountain of tears. Horrified, the moon tried to swallow them up. And sometimes this worked, because she got fatter and rounder. But mostly it didn't, because there were just so many. The stars kept coming, until they made the sky so bright that the sun became jealous. He invited the stars to his side of the world, where it was always bright. What he didn't tell them, though, was that in the daytime, they'd never be seen. So the stupid ones leapt from the sky to the ground, and they froze under the weight of their own foolishness. But the moon did her best. She carved each of the blocks of sorrow into a man or a woman. She spent the rest of her time watching out so that her other stars wouldn't fall. She spent the rest of her time holding on to whatever scraps she had left.
