wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: Theatre
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/11/theatre.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, November 3, 2014. There's a scene in my favorite movie. Two lovers holding hands, a sunset. A small house molded to her liking, a quiet beauty. Sapling life a soft vignette. There's a scene in my favorite movie. The part that makes me weep. His hands grasp the thin bony palm. Of the frame of the quiet beauty, asleep. A hospital, chords of fluid, a psalm. There's a scene in my favorite movie. His hands glide along the stone,. The hallowed ground, the grave.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: Now What/What Now
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/05/now-whatwhat-now.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, May 26, 2014. Why do I always feel like the hands I interlock in front of me, and the elbows on my knees, and the eyelids that go down, and up, and down, and up, don't belong to me. Sensation is such a beautiful and strange thing if you think about it. Hopefully I'm being understood. 8220;People don't realize that the future is just now, but later.”. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. June 1, 2014 at 2:30 PM. Life will never feel how you want it to look in a picture.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: peeling dressers
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/05/peeling-dressers.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Saturday, May 10, 2014. I laid in the bed of sheetless thinking. I reached back behind the dresser of food, and books of ink. The dresser was a plywood pile of wood in a sellable shape. Over the plywood is a stensil of real wood making it appear rich. I peel the stencil off the back nervously,. Wondering if they'll see this in the inspection at eviction. But not caring that much. So it gets peeled. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: People who have inspired me.(This is a new years post of some kind)
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/01/people-who-have-inspired-methis-is-new.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Sunday, January 5, 2014. People who have inspired me.(This is a new years post of some kind). As I write this I cannot tell you how long this list will be I have the flu and my room is spinning and I'm on the Internet. This is everyone my virus-wracked brain can poop out at the moment. There are many people who have gotten me to where I am today, for better or for worse; both will be included in the following list. My coach, made me feel worth something. You're ...
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: This is just me
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/01/this-is-just-me.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Thursday, January 2, 2014. This is just me. So, I started the national novel writing month (November) with a flaming passion. It was going great until about the 3rd day. Sorry I haven't posted a lot. I have something cooking in my heart. Here I am saying this as if anyone other than Mr. Nelson, Allie, and maybe Lauren and Michaela actually read this blog anymore, after all, high school is over. I'm moving to Hawaii. I'm writing a book. I'm in love with a woman.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/06/i-dont-know-why-my-pictures-arent.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, June 4, 2014. I don't know why my pictures aren't showing up. Sorry. I can't figure it out. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Where Have All Your Good Words Gone? The Kissing Drafts Jackie O. What Happened When Our Lips Locked. They Called Me Boomer. Tales of a wanderer. I read it in the newspaper; your obituary.I read h. To whom it will concern. I dont know why my pictures arent showing up. So.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: Tinder smoke
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2013/11/tinder-smoke.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, November 25, 2013. I'm watching from behind the one sided glass. I'm watching the laughter and the joy. I'm watching you love and be loved. There have never been words eloquent enough- words loud enough- for you. Never good enough. My laces are untied and it's poetic. It's poetic because my laces are, in essence, like my life. I feel like a cruel science experiment actually. Love always, Zack. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. June 3, 2014 at 11:23 PM.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: Binocular
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2013/08/binocular.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, August 14, 2013. You asked me what I was looking for, as always, I told you "I don't know." sorry about that by the way. I always don't know, I know it bugs the hell out of you. I sometimes just don't think enough for there to be an answer where I can say "I do know, Let me tell you". I am looking for a girl with sunkissed lips and the wanderlust brown eyes. I am looking for Magic and forests and someone who is just as lost as I am. Smiles with gaps a...
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: April 2015
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, April 15, 2015. I apologize for taking my blog down for so long. I felt self-conscious about the raw emotion and honesty about my life's situations. When reading my blog, please realize that I am ok. Most of my posts are very sad; sadness was a resource for me when it came to writing. THIS IS MY BLOG. I claim all found herein and am not ashamed of what I have written about (swear words and all). Thank you for reading my blog and as always:.
wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com
Where The Wild Words Are: November 2014
http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014_11_01_archive.html
A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Friday, November 7, 2014. How about that weather we've been having? Goddammit, he did it. I was really hoping he wouldn't. Just beautiful, absolutely beautiful" I say. It's a nice change, from, you know, that cold weather we've had". Yes it is. yes it is". He trails off and looks back at the carpet; yellow shag with visible lint originating sometime in the early 60's. I'm picking at my hands. Mom would say that's a bad habit, you need to quit. But I know to wait.
