1. Don't beat up anybody in the halls 2. No Hard Feelings for Our Honest Feelings. 3. Pay tribute to Bob Ross; Locker 21
Principal M. Laksana Ashari, We Believe In You
Other Faces
Their Lockers
x Zahid
x Ain
x Fauziah
x Shaz
x Alicia
x Alexis
x Gadis
x Wahidah
x Dilah
x Post Secret
x WIYFC?
x Onomatopoeia
x Scrapiteria
x A Memory
Credits: The Artist At Work
Thank You
1. As said, image is done by abstra>art. 2. Base picture i started editing is from here 2. So there is no way you can sue me for picture/code ripping. 3. Textures are taken from 77words 4. Done Using Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Imageready 5. Music from Baidu.com
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The Noticeboard
That Familiar Face
Faces In The Halls
Megah 21.06.1989 twentyfour
1. had a huge Afro 2. passions lies in words of the theatre 3. getting his own apartment 4. believes in you.
He is no ordinary girl (because he ain't one).
Edward and His Muse
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Another piece that i wrote while being bored in class. Within the mass of the gray urban jungle, lies a network where it's inhabitants dwell. Not homes, not private cubby holes where the urban's bloodline slumber in the secured safety. The alleys, the cracks of reality is where the gray inhabitant's drift swiftly and free.
The Red Army slink back in their safe dwelling, passing time with moments of peace and nothing. Maxie, the Red Representative, oversees his troops of runaways, abandonments and homeless. Siblings share their meals while lovers serenade each other, giving themselves a glint of an angel's grace. They all would rather be here than anywhere else. Survival and Sanctuary. Two securities that they would ever need to live in a town where society was even worse that the piercing light of Lucifer's chambers.
But even in the safety and slink of the darkness, Maxie knows that its never safe anywhere.
In the alley a few blocks from where the Red Army dwells, a beast of dwells in chains, ravaging in the darkening madness of the alleys, moaning in a mysterious rage. The beast guards its alleys as it was instructed even though no one owns these alleys.
No one is safe.
The moonlight shines a single beam. Edward James pulls his collar and clears his throat. The clink of chains shuffle and shifts through the dirty concrete as he recomposes himself and stands firm on his ground. Lady Luna has her attention towards her performer tonight, Edward James. Edward James takes a deep breath and releases whatever air in his lungs and hums the tunes he made up from his memories. The tune was easy, the tune calmed the alley from it historical turmoil and blue beams illuminate the gray of the alley in which Edward James vigilantly guard.
A single breeze grazes on Edward's cheek. He smiles. Lady Luna enjoyed his serenade of his tragedy and tale of where he dwells, his survival in the cracks of this urban gray.
A glint from Edward's chain caught his eye. The Lady Luna flirts with Edward and he blushes. The Lady Luna was his muse and Edward dreams that one night, he would break from The Gray and unite with his muse.
