General Category > PKMN.NET

I have never had one trading card.

(1/3) > >>

Hicky:
It's a Summer day, and the matutinal sun not only illuminates my humble veranda, but allows me the contemplative refuge of a nearby bower. Submitting willingly to a seasonal ecstacy, I fulfill my unchanged, monotonous routine in an excited way, the perfunctory pamperings of previous seasons seeming an altogether new, vivid experience.

I am not one to take pleasure in college, but gadded gleefully on the tiresome road to the wretched institution I am mandated to attend. Suddenly, Catullus' poetry has whole new meanings, his forlorn love and anachronistically unpoetic structure thrilling to my literary instincts and pleasing to my soul. Byron's, '"I would I were a careless child / Still dwelling in my highland cave" replicate the liberty and positive emotion associated with a period mainly constituting gloom.

The day ending as it began, unpredictable and vivacious, I return to the seraglio of secrets and surprises that is my abode. In possession of a personal computing device, I log on to my favourite Poker websites, finding a new predilection in the world of strategy. I check Wikisource to pay further testament to my literary heroes, something I would never do, not on any regular day. I empathise with Victor Hugo's soul-crushing loss more than ever. 

As an exceptional chain of events has been put into gear, the upmost volubility of my mood having been perceived in the commonly shattering milieu I inhabit, I check a lost sister, a former love interest I jilted but hoped to one day return to. Her plosive prenom was the fair PKMN.NET. Her and I would hold hands in conquered woods; she and I would sit for hours in soft, soothing discussion of the transatlantic distance we had travelled towards the mind and spirit of each other, and how we would only regretfully go back.

I remembered, however, I had not been bequeathed one trading card. I had spent hours in tactile correspondence with this fair maiden: I had visited her vast sea of resources. I had acquainted myself with her most precious jewels and shown her that I was ready to take her into my arms once and for all.

The day was ruined. I went home, shattered, my ululations being mistaken for the profound, cryptic murmurings of a widow.

Apprentice:
Do you want some of mine.

Hicky:

--- Quote ---Do you want some of mine.
--- End quote ---
If one man has been gentle and tender enough to be permitted to smell the perfume of PKMN.NET, I would not durst steal the thunderous momentum of his savage sinews.

sylar:
do you want a special snowflake award and a cookie

Hicky:
Alas, no. Maybe I can titillate PKMN.NET in the right way that she might make me a sensual offering.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page