Not much to say. I'll miss my 1000 views
So Please go there from now on!
~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl ~Lixyl


Death's knockingI don't have much time. I'm writing this in my closet with only my lamp beside me. I'm really afraid these may be my last words.Death's knocking
You see, a dozen of minutes ago, I heard our front door open. At first, I thought it could be my father, going outside for whatever reason. Then, steps heavily pushed our wooden planks down. Living in the basement, I could hear every creek. The feet stopped in the room above mine, the one that belongs to my parents. Several seconds of silence led me to think dad had gone back to sleep.
But the silence was soon broken with a "Bang", as if something was dropped, followed by a horrible screech


The useless getawayI'm lacking inspiration and am totally bored, but I also wanted to write something. So I thought I'd write about something that is always getting me me. A subject that not only gives me great joy, but also great discouragement. Writing.The useless getaway
For the past, I'd say, 2 years, I've been an amateur writer. I feel I'm improving everyday, learning new tricks to make my texts of better quality. Many friends encourage me and I'd have to say that R/C from X-evo (Also known as RokRush88 on DA) has been my greatest help and inspiration over the last year. I've written summaries of novel ideas I have, most of them having, generally, good comments.
What house?

Labyrinth of HopeLugubriously walking, a young woman wandered the streets of London. It was a cold night of autumn, leaving only pale dots to be seen afar, spotlights. The soft breeze was gently lifting her dress and dark hair. She looked as if she were floating, like an angel, lost in her blackened thoughts. Silence reigned, as always, as the midnight bells banged. Twelve strokes announced the beginning of a new day, a new hope.Labyrinth of Hope
Roaming without goal, a saddened look was all the seraphic mistress has left, along with the clothes she wore. As she raised her head to the stars her greys eyes glistened in contact with the moonlight. Her buckled hair
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Art is life, Life is precious!
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Writer in the working.
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Writer in the working.
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Suggest a Lit DD today!
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Writer in the working.
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