lzepplinlove

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Rants, dream and reality by lzepplinlove, literature

Literature

Rants, dream and reality

I am going to tell you this because I know I can't tell you any other way. I hate exams, and I hate the fact that exams make me hate medicine. I don't like forensic, where I have to learn things knowledge of flies is called as entomology. So what should I do, if it's called that? I hate those pneumonia causing staphylococcus aureus and hemophilus influenza. I am not a fan in learning that there exists Liddle syndrome, it just makes my mind wander to Riddle, Tom Riddle, Harry potter. I seriously, sometimes, get fed up of fendoparinux and these obese and low weight heparins. Don't get me started on paradoxical emboli, boi! -90mv current, Na c

Minimalism by lzepplinlove, literature

May 11, 2013 Pakistan by lzepplinlove, literature

Literature

May 11, 2013 Pakistan

Ok this is my first entry here. It may not be heavy with words, and rhymes. But I hope it tells you more about my country. I live in Pakistan, a place in the South of Asia, neighbors of India and Iran. I am hoping to write more about it, but I want to start about my country from 11th may 2013. The day of 9th proper general election in Pakistan. Pakistan is a country that has faced a lot of ups and downs in the hand of autocracy and democracy. With corrupt army generals and corrupt leaders, Pakistan has faced too many harsh days. Note to remember here : I am not into Pakistani politics so it's not going to be about that. Anyways so long sto

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Minimalism by lzepplinlove, literature

May 11, 2013 Pakistan by lzepplinlove, literature

Literature

May 11, 2013 Pakistan

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Bipolar Disorder by MikkiMarie, literature

Literature

Bipolar Disorder

I am a victim of a shadow named fourteen And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon. Fourteen human figures without a face… they attack my soul And everybody’s staring at me without an honest reason. I am a victim of the people of the world Who only want to hurt me, and my innocent family Terrified of the ones around me, even those I love When a nightmare becomes my reality. I can’t take a shower without peeking outside the curtain And I can’t close my eyes when I wash my hair Because I’m horrified, afraid that when I open them I’ll see somebody with a bloody face angrily standing ther

Family Secrets by karezuzusan, literature

Literature

Family Secrets

His bright green eyes pierce right through me. No emotion. No sorrow. No remorse. "What happened to him?" His face does not change. His eyes try to intimidate me. I stare into the green void. I must know the truth. "What happened to him?" He does not speak. We are strangers with the same blood. Our eyes do not drift apart. I must know. "You were his brother. You were his family. Please, tell me what happened." His family. Not mine. They were never my family. I hate that I share their blood. "Why all of the secrets? What are you hiding?" Secrets. Family secrets. Secrets too dark that no one speaks of them. I must know them. "You may n

Choices in the Void by SkylarKale, literature

Literature

Choices in the Void

It was Career Day. But by the time you reach high school, Career Day doesn’t excite you anymore. Maybe if the firemen still came around and let you climb on their fire engine, it’d be a little more—oh I dunno, robust. And to be clear, I meant that statement the way it sounded. But yeah, it was Career Day. Looking around at all the different booths, I just get kind of depressed thinking about how I’m going to have to choose something soon. In less than four years, I’ll either be in college or the workforce, earning my daily bread. The thought that life was going to swallow me whole and there was nothing I could d

Replenish the Sound by sandracaskey, literature

Literature

Replenish the Sound

A high pitched screeching was within my ears. Alongside it, images played of aberrant worlds I only know of. A girl raced throughout a deserted city, her feet diving into every puddle. Another girl was ignited ablaze, her eyes scarred with rage. Another singular girl, was left abandoned in a battlefield, and held ashes of a loved one within her hands that slipped between her fingers. Ashes upon ashes… Dust upon dust… She cupped her ears as I did the same. We glanced up at what laid above us, and I cringed as the voices beneath the intense screeching grew rapidly. Help us! they screamed their faces before me in the vast, onyx

The Unspoken Story by sandracaskey, literature

Literature

The Unspoken Story

A book lies upon a desk, dust caked to it, a single hand print not upon it. Its spine is stiff and sturdy from not a single person reading it. And its pages are clean from the oils from fingers. Each day, practically every hour, a new paragraph is miraculously written along its pages, either creating a new chapter or an entirely new section. So far, the pages are uncountable, for there are already over a thousand and so, beginning from the birth of its author and continuing on until their death. The author is in her late teen years and yet her story has not been told. And she has not yet seen what her life has truly been like, for she has dr