Chained in the Snow

I feel chained to the wall (Hence the title). I'm stuck here at my place and I can't help the one I care about. She's getting taunted and yelled at because she didn't do anything yesterday, but I think she has a pretty good excuse which is not being able to feel her toes!!
*breathes* I'm stuck here in this place covered by snow (which I love snow) but right now it feels like a prison. A prison's cold bars and the food is not what you want. All I can do is be here for when she needs me. . .all I can do is sit and wait for the possibility of talking to her again soon. . .and the hopes my work can keep my lonely mind from straying to the fact I'm a solo prisoner in this hell of mine.

*Achoo*

Ugh I hate being sick. I get a headache, my nose starts running off my face. My throat goes dry and my cough sounds not even human at some points. It was really bad on Saturday, I mean bad enough I dropped a 7 and a half hour shift because I couldn't really crawl out of bed. The next day wasn't much better and I finally made it to the store for some medicine and beat it into submission.
Now I'm stuck with a slight cough and my nose stuffed up to my skull with phlegm. But I will not let it win. It may be the worst I'd felt in a while but I can't let it bother me.
Classes have started up again and I'm glad I'm feeling better at the start of them.
Now I just need my books and for someone to tell me what's going on with foodstamps!!!

Shattered

My girl was in an accident not that long ago. . .
She called me to tell me and now I can't stop shaking. I went down the hall to stay quiet and ended up against the wall. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and I couldn't breath, my heart feels like it will break my ribcage. I can only imagine what would have happened if something had gone wrong.
I don't want to think how lucky I am that she is alive and only a little banged up.
.
.
My god I love her so much. . . Don't you dare take her from me.

:'(

If it wasn't for. . .

If it wasn't for friends?
I'd have gone crazy.
If it wasn't for family?
I'd not have shoulder's to cry on.
If it wasn't for pets?
I'd have no one to play with.
If it wasn't for my mother?
I'd not have an apartment.
If it wasn't for my father?
I'd not know the feeling of speed, or what it's like to build with my hands.
If it wasn't for my sister?
I don't think I would have read, I don't think I would be writing.
If it wasn't for. . .
If it wasn't for Her?
This life would be meaningless. . .
If it wasn't for Her I don't know how much shit I could take and now I never will have to find out.
Because of her?
I can take on the world and laugh as it tries to fight back.

. . .

I don't know what to say. Busy is busy and haven't had time to do much. My body seems to like to kick my ass and I don't know how to fix it. Doc says I just have "A very sensitive stomach" well when that includes waking up with pain for 3 days straight and diarrhea most of the time after eating very little then she's probably right.
*sigh*
All I can do is push forward and pray pray pray it all comes through eventually. Semester is almost over, just a bit longer.

Inspired

I have written and written now. Writer's block seems to have dissipated. I wrote 7 pages one night for a story that I had no idea how it would end and now it is done!! I am so excited! Now I'm letting it cool down and myself to become. . . ready to destroy it :'(
But that is what must be done. I need to do grammar I know that but I wonder what else may need to be fixed. School is as heavy as ever but somehow I pull through.
Life update: Stomach pains have been hurting me for a while and now I have no idea as well as my doctor. . . .wow. . .
Keep in touch and informed of the life and times of a teenage Trickster

Writer's Block

It's that imaginary wall that stops all writers at some point in their career. When you try to write and all you come up with is. . .
*Throws pencil at wall* Grrrrr!
Damn you pencil!
.
.
.
Ok Now I'm talking to a pencil, great.
I feel like I'm grasping at air when my idea is smoke, I can feel when I get one but then it slips around my fingers, laughing as I try again.
It doesn't help that my mind is filled with other thoughts.: A dance I'm not going to with my girl because we weren't invited and can't sneak in; my father diagnosed with Celiac and me possibily having it too; having played all my games, read all my books, and seen all my movies so many times I know them all by heart; I proclaim "All I can do is write. . . But. . .That damned wall is blocking my way."