tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60691712011-07-31T03:48:14.779+08:00EscapeI wanna run away and hide deep between the lines, where every word formed belongs to me, for me to sculpt and mould. Where the world would be governed by my rules, where love would be love, friends would be friends, and life would be life. Welcome to my escape.Spikenoreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6069171.post-106882564931507812003-11-15T00:00:00.000+08:002003-11-15T02:04:16.913+08:00Suicide
     He looked down and the whole world swirled. It was way too high for his comfort. But that was the point wasn’t it? He looked at his watch.
    6.30am. Rush hour would begin soon. He wondered if anyone would miss him, and would they wonder where he was. Unlikely. Nobody cared about him anyway, or so he thought. There was always a glimmer of hope. HopeSpikenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6069171.post-1068644845916703522003-11-12T21:47:00.000+08:002003-11-12T22:15:17.816+08:00Autumn Leaves
    The leaves were a sea of red and gold interspersed with fading green, rustling gently in the wind as if passing whispers of some secret tale. The sight of tree after tree donning their final colours before death was strangely gratifying, and even eerily beautiful.
    “Pretty, isn’t it?” she murmured.
    He gave a start from his Spikenoreply@blogger.com0