amateur-assassin

A sunny day in the park.  There is a single bench CENTRE  stage.  GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench.  He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe.  He is reading a newspaper.  Enter PETER from the RIGHT.   He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie.  He is carrying a paper bag.  PETER sits on the bench next to GOD,  setting his bag next to him.  He folds his hands and admires the weather. PETER.  Beautiful weather today. GOD  [focusing on his newspaper].  Mm-hm. PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter. GOD  [shaking PETER's hand].  God. [GOD re

Quite frankly, you're heavy. Get off.

Do you know why its a bad idea for ships to travel side by side over the sea? They sat side by side, husband and wife, not touching. She sat perched on the edge of the sofa, as though she was scared to come into contact with anything solid. He, on the other hand, lay so far back that he was almost flat, as though hoped that the cushions would swallow him. He was wrapped in a blanket (he was always cold these days) whereas she just looked cold. Not as if she was cold, but as if she radiated it, as though it was some sort of negative heat. Neither of them looked at each other. They both acted as though the TV was their entire world. The motio

dear zelda, i want to know if you dance like you write. i want to know if i could have seen the spun-glass of your words reflected in the glint of your eyes in the spotlight. did you  dance in paris for all your husband’s friends? i hope you made those Lost Boys hate you and love you and envy you, and when your husband stepped on your tapping feet and breathed shame into your ear, i hope you never listened to him. did you still love him then? is that why you wandered? were you looking for a man to Save You The Waltz, to hold your hand and dance with you or to drop your hand and watch you dance for the velvet night and the sultry

She lay on her back, looking up at the sky. The wind ran its fingers through her hair, softly whispering of the joys of flight. This was nothing new. She'd always dreamt of flying, of being whisked away, spinning wherever the wind blew. She knew she couldn't, of course. Humans didn't fly. They didn't have wings, and they were too heavy to simply float on the very air they breathed. Her shoulders, aching from the cold that seeped through the hard, immovable, earthbound stone reminded her of that. She had no wings, and she was too heavy to fly. She did so want to fly. She thought about the old, rotting, ivy-wreathed roof upon which she lay.

I am gay. I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem I'm not an affliction I don't need treatment. I don't need help I'm not sick I'm not confused I'm not a sin. I am gay. I'm your daughter Your sister Your friend Your co worker Your classmate Your acquaintance A complete stranger I am gay. I need love, just like you I need smiles I need support I need a hug I need a friend I need a family I need acceptance I need understanding I need you I am gay. I know what love is I know what pain is I know what hate is I know what life is I am gay. And I need you to love me The same way you loved me before you knew I am gay.

It burrows into your brain. It wants to live there. You don't even know it exists. It eats your serotonin, but you don't even notice its gone because everything feels so heavy. You wonder why the world seems so grey, not realising that your retinas are scarred by the thing living in your brain. You can't understand why the world seems so thick like syrup but it isn't sweet enough to make you smile. It squats, getting fat on your stolen happiness, while you wonder what you'd look like with a noose around your neck. You wonder if screaming would make you feel something but its taken even that. The world is monochrome but you see more blac

A prime number is a number divisible only by itself and one. For example, the number five can only be divided by five or by one. If you divide it by any other number, you won't get an integer (a whole number). Needless to say, not every number is a prime number. Most of them aren't. However, there are an infinite amount of them. There are an infinite amount of numbers, and because prime numbers are a subset of ordinary numbers there are just as many of them. Think about that, for a moment. There are less prime numbers than ordinary numbers, and yet both of them are infinite. A paradox. By its very definition, infinity cannot vary in size,