Date Posted:21:28:14 06/23/02 Sun Author: Sera Author Host/IP: spider-tl072.proxy.aol.com / 152.163.207.207 Subject: - when angels deserve to die -
·· In your eyes forsaken me -- in your heart forsaken me ··
..Boredom was evident, dimming the inferno of her ebonite cores, flecked and stained with slate -- occasionally mixed with the murderous prospect of rouge. The slender toned bodice filtered through the steel rimmed plexiglass entry, exhibiting a brevity stage of mild deja vu, though everything of reminiscent recollection is at once dismissed -- retreating the forlorn recesses of her dismal mind. So bland and tasteless the other clubs were. They lacked something original...like the art of music. Something she unfortunately had never persued to excell...although talent was latent [as was most], and exposure to people in general was something she wasn't willing to adhere to. The imposing goddess cavorts forth, leaving in her wake a blunder of turbulence; callous as she brushes glassily past the inhabitants, rather detatched at the moment and seeking refreshment. Her demeanor was unreadable, but something like apathy shrouded her wit -- and submerged her in a trip of nothingness. Baggy cargos adorn her toned limbs, festooned neatly by a charcoal leather belt -- embellished with tarnished silver studs for a more punkish, hard core type of appeal. Registering her bodice to the vinal covered stools, the vixen places herself an expected order, relinquishing a jaded trek for the prospect of an alcoholic condiment..
