Lights out

The sun has set
The night is near
I start to sweat
Darkness is here
I know what will happen
It's happened before
My feet will feel chilly
My head will feel sore
I toss and turn
The blankets feel itchy
My chest, it burns
I kick them off quickly
Its quiet, too quiet
Theres no one awake
No way to get by it
I start to shake
I'm alone, in the night
and I can't get to sleep
This feeling's not right
I've tried counting sheep
Tears prick my eyes
but I push them back fast
I'm not going to cry
Soon this feeling will pass
I start to feel tired
My eyes start to close
My wake has expired
and I finally go...
I hear the birds sing
The sun is up
The light that it brings
Is sweet as syrup
Goodbye to this feeling
Until another night
For day time is healing
And now I'm alright

Bethy

Chapter 2

Bethy was scared
That she was losing her best friend

Jasmine was sympathetic to Bethy for the first few months after her mother’s


death. She’d share her chocolate cake or Kit-Kat bar every break.

She’d wipe Bethy’s tears from her eyes if she cried. She’d give her, her silk handkerchiefs

and she’d try to make jokes to cheer her up.
Now Bethy had a feeling she was losing her. Whenever Jasmine saw Bethy trying to wipe away tears she frowned at her and sighed. When Bethy didn’t want to play kickball or tag Jasmine rolled her eyes at her and ran off to play, leaving Bethy alone. If Bethy didn’t hear what Jasmine said because she was too busy thinking about her mum, she would walk off, muttering that she had no mother either and she didn’t whine about it. Sometimes Bethy wished that she could be like Jasmine and let go of her mother’s death. But then again, Jasmine lost her mother when she was a baby and never really got to know her.


On those cold winter days when Jasmine had ran off to play before Bethy came out, Bethy would sit by herself on a cold wooden bench and close her eyes. She liked to remember her mother’s voice, her feel, her touch. If she thought really hard, she could remember her father too. All of them together as a family, before her father left them and before her mother got cancer. Bethy liked to make resolutions as well. She told herself to be stoical and brave, she told herself to behave in class and listen to the teacher instead of staring out the window. Bethy thought maybe is she did this, Jasmine would want to be her friend again, but most of all (even though she didn’t want to admit it) she thought that if she did this, her father would want her again.

Occasionally, Bethy would see a glimpse of the old Jasmine - the one that Bethy had fun with, the one she could tell anything to, and she'd undestand. She could appear anytime she wanted to, but Bethy was scared that she was fading away, fast. On one warm, windy day, Bethy asked her if she was losing her.


“Losing me?” she laughed sarcastically. Bethy nodded her head.

“Don’t be silly…Bethy,” she said, and yet the way she said ‘Bethy’ in that mocking tone was enough for Bethy to realise the Jasmine was no longer the friend that she used to be.

The days were getting shorter now and Bethy often felt her life was meaningless. She had no ambition, no friends, no mum and no dad. She had nobody, except Uncle Al. The wind swept her face as she walked home once more, no more tears left in her eyes.

...

It was a gloomy, wet day when the letter came. The storm clouds signalled bad news...trouble. Bethy came trudging back from school in her too-tight raincoat with her gum boots filled with mud. She fell into the house and sighed, what a day, as always.
"Bethy," Uncle Al called.
"Yes?" Bethy replied, slipping off her gum-boots and placing her coat on the rack.
"Um...I've got a surprise for you,"
"Is it a good surprise or a bad one?" She asked as she walked into the kitchen to make herself and her uncle some tea.
"Well, it matters what you think,"
Bethy placed exactly three teaspoons of sugar and a teabag into each cup.
"Its from someone that you know...or used to know..."
Bethy poured boiling hot water to the halfway point of each cup.
"Someone that you haven't heard from for a long time,"
Bethy filled the rest of the cup up with milk.
"Sweetie its...its"
Bethy walked over to Uncle Al with two steamy hot cups of tea in her hand...
"Its your father."

CRASH!

Country Spring

Fresh, Crisp, falling leaves, gently brush my face

Beautiful flowers grow and bloom, livening up the place

The cool light friendly breeze whispers in my ear

Its calm, peaceful touch tells me spring is coming near

The warm, glowing sun tickles my toes with heat

Foreign plants, out of place, bloom amongst the wheat

I gasp at the gully wind as it sweeps across the valley

Breathing in the morning air as it soars along the alley

The clear indigo lake next door, stirs in spritely waves

The cattle lightly scratch the floor and make noises as they graze

The birds chirp whole heartedly and sing a happy tune

Our country’s spring is nearly here, it’s coming very soon

( I wrote this poem in october but forgot to post it until now)

Tigerlily

Harrofurus Hump

Chapter 3

My favourite place in the world? I scanned through all my memories in search of the place the meant most to me. I couldn't think of anything. How, I asked myself, is it that she knows my favourite place in the world, and not me. "Come along now," she called from who knows where."I'm waiting," I followed the voice to our backyard (or what looked like our backyard) and saw her on her knees (if penguins had knees) and flippers in the air.

"Oh no,"
"What?"
"Oh no" I repeated. I turned to walk back in the room. She rushed after me. "You're such a wuss," she said, turning me around. This penguin ought to be kidding me! A wuss? A wuss? Just because I was a little scared to fly on the back of a giant penguin and possibly die? Who knows what kept me from dying before. God, perhaps. Maybe he heard my quick prayer and thought, Maybe flying on a giant penguin isn't the way this girl should die. But now, I was in this strange world, one with large penguins who could fly and a dreadful disease that was supposedly my fault and the giants and dates all out of wack, anything could happen to me now.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" she said, throwing her hands up in the air.
I frowned at her.
"Would ya just stop worrying so much! I know what I'm doing!" I stared at her uneasily, trying to make sure she wasn't bluffing.
"I'm not bluffing!" she cried in despair. "Okay," I said. "Good!" She crouched down low and helped me heave myself onto her. "Hold tight," she said, crouching lower and lower, getting ready to launch,"You sure you're alright with this?" I nodded my head. "Well you should," She flapped her wings louder and louder. "I just got my P plates a few days ago,"

...

Before I knew we were in the air, me screaming my head off, of course. "YOU!" I shouted above the flaps of her wings. "Oh quit screaming," she huffed. "YOU!" was all I could manage. I stared down at the scenery below and almost fell off. "G-G-G" I stuttered. "You'll have to speak up, my flippers have jets on them," "G-G-G-I-I-I" I pointed to a large hairy man down below. He had massive teeth and razor sharp finger nails. His beard was full of blood and there was a human sized bone stuck in his teeth. His skin looked almost yellow and there were bruises all over him. There were also bit marks in his leg, like as if some sharp object had been poked into him...time after time...

"Oh bracky? He's nothing,"
"Bracky?" I asked, still shaking. "Yeah, you shouldn't worry about him, he won't hurt you. As long as I'm with you. He wouldn't dare," I wasn't so sure. "These humans are so annoying! Thank goodness you die out in the later generations," she puts one of her flippers to her beak. "Oops,"
"WHAT?" I shout. "I shouldn't have said that, ignore that," "I'm not going to ignore th..."
"Just hold on tight," she interupts.  "Hold on ti...AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

...

What happened? All I remember is Mz. Penguin, zooming straight downwards at an increasing speed. Right through the center of the earth. We seemed to drill down at five kilometres per second and I remember screaming and screaming and screaming. Even the penguin was screaming too. I'm not sure if it was just to make me more frightened or because she knew something bad was going to happen. As it go hotter and hotter I started to burn up. Literally. My skin felt the fiery ash burning my skin. I felt so faint, I was dehydrated and then...

Its pitch black, and all I can hear is a ringing in my ear. It's so soft, and so annoying. I'm feeling tired, and grumpy and really in the need for a shout. I scream into the darkness and tears roll down my cheek. Its nothing like I've ever felt. Its nothing like anyone could ever feel. I close my eyes in despair and sleepiness, and fall asleep.

"Helloooo?" a cheery voice wakens me. "How was your sleep, you feel good?"  I open my eyes and see Mz. Penguin, eyes bright and cheery and a grin on her face. "Wow, you look nice this morning," I search her voice, trying to find the sarcasm in it. Nothing. Wow, she's actually being nice to me! I think, shocked. "How about you have some porridge, huh?" she points to a wooden table, across from me. There is a blazing fire just next to me that brings back fresh memories. "Get up easy now," she says, lifting me up. I waddle over to the table and lift my flipper to my eyes, feeling much better after me rest. "Ewek, Ewek," I say, indicating that I'm ready for my food. I push my beak into the bowl, mmmmmm, fish porridge, my favourite...

MY FLIPPERS? MY BEAK? FISH PORRIDGE!!

Untitled Story

Chapter 2

I could tell Mz. Penguin was getting more and more annoyed. As I was regaining consciousness I was sure I could hear her tut-tut-tutting again. I was beginning to get annoyed as well. This penguin obviously needed an attitude adjustment. “Hello!?” she yelled in my ear, awaking me from my thoughts. “Oh sorry, did I wake you?” she said innocently. But I knew that she did it on purpose. I glared at her and was about to start the worlds biggest tantrum when I remembered why I had lost consciousness in the first place. “Gi…aa…ntts” I stuttered foolishly. I looked around in search for large towering beings but – strangely – saw no such thing. Phew, maybe I was just a little queasy from that ride on the penguin, I thought to myself. “What are, ‘Ji-a-nets’” the penguin said, pronouncing it carefully. “Oh, nothing you’d understand,” “Well, no time for chit-chat, let’s get to it,” she said and then waddled quickly out the door. Where did she go? I thought to myself. I was beginning to think that I had gotten myself into much more than I realised.

 It was only then that I got a chance to analyse the room properly. Now I had no distractions I saw how weird the room really was. The walls were covered with black and white striped fur (which, I must say, looked very soft) and the ceiling was lit by a dozen small lanterns. There was a bed (which I was resting on) and it looked suspiciously similar to my own. The room was filled with all kinds of statues, big ones, small ones, and very, very scary ones. All of them were in the shape of penguins and all of them stared at me with their beady eyes. In the quietness of the room I could almost hear their breathing: judging me, glaring at me and (weirdest of all) tutting at me. Other than that, the room was as normal as could be - as normal as my room even.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the familiar voice of my dear friend Mrs Penguin calling out to me. Scrap that. My thoughts were rudely interrupted when I heard the annoying and horribly arrogant voice of my impatient kidnapper, telling me that she had been waiting for me for over five minutes! I sighed, picked myself off the bed and ran after her. Running along, I noticed that the hallway looked exactly like my hallway from my house, except for the fact that instead of family portraits there were pictures of penguins with names at the bottom. I slowed down and read some as I walked.

“Penocilius Penguin – 12 809 – 12 900 – Died of Harrofurus Hump”
“Emmaragus Penguin – 13 400 – 13 600 – Died of Harrofurus Hump"
“Cecilmargan Penguin – 13 243 – 11 398 – Died of Harrofurus Hump”…

The list went on and on. What in the world was this “Harrofurus Hump” and why were the dates so out of wack? Maybe the penguin could explain it to me. “Well I would explain it to you if you could just, COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT,” Jeez, I thought, to think I thought you were cute when I first met you. I could have sworn she was turning into my mum. I found her in my lounge room, sipping tea and coffee on our amber-red couch with my mum’s freshly baked butter cake laid out on the glass table. “Wha…?”
“Sit down,” she said. I sat on the chair opposite to her.
“There’s a lot I haven’t told you. I’m so sorry I was so hard on you before but we need your help and we’re running out of time,"
“Oh,” I said, feeling a bit mean about calling her names (even if they were in my head). She seemed so solemn at the moment. Her forehead was wrinkled and her brow was creased.


“You might have heard about the horrid disease, Harrofurus Hump. It is the most dangerous and deadly disease…what are you smiling at, child!?”
Oops, I guess the funny name just got to me. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…I’m sure Harrofuru…Harrofurus…Harro,” I couldn’t stop laughing. It was too funny. Why, why did people have to name diseases such funny names?
The penguin frowned. “I’m sorry Mrs. Penguin,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.
“Well. Yes, you should be sorry, it is very serious disease and it kills millions yearly. Do you know how many penguins die everyday because of this?”
“Mmmhmm, it must be a lot,” I said, not really listening.
“It is a lot!” she said, clearly very grumpy, “And it’s all your fault!”


… The bit in a movie where the screen goes blank and then the picture fades back in…

“WHAT?” I said, insulted. “I didn’t know anything about this disease until just a few seconds ago!” “My dear child, you created this disease,” she said, lowering her voice and finding her temper again. She lowered her head and blew on the teacup in her hand. I knew that something was wrong. Why had I not noticed this before? The large penguin on my bed had to give away something. Then there was the flying into the sun, the hairy giants, the bed the same as my own, the tutting penguin statues, the hallway with the dead people and then my mum’s butter-cake. By its self these things do not make a dream but together…
“Oww!” I screamed. The penguin tutted at me again as I watched my arm go red once again. “No, no, no. If this is not a dream…”
“Then it means that this is really happening,” the penguin interrupted, taking a sip of her cup. “This butter-cake is really quite good, you should try some,”
Oh my gosh, what is going on here? I am sitting across from a giant penguin who changes her mood five times an hour in my sitting room. Something must be wrong, something isn’t right. It isn’t a dream, but something isn’t right.
“Of course something isn’t right, you nut!” I had forgotten about her ability to mind-read. “You’re in a era, very different to your own,” she stopped to swallow a piece of cake. “This!” she waved her flippers around the room. I couldn’t help giggle at this sight. She ignored my remark and continued, “This room, this cake, this house, it’s all not real!” A frowned at her trying to understand what she meant. “I.T I.S A.L.L N.O.T R.E.A.L” she said sarcastically. A tear rolled down my cheek, I didn’t feel sad but I couldn’t help it. The penguin saw my face, “I’m sorry, I really am,” she said. “I know my mood has been changing all sorts, my hormones are still crazy from my pregnancy,” I remembered the little egg I saw in my laundry.

“Come on let’s go somewhere else,” she put the cup down on the table and stood up. “Where?” I said, bewildered. She walked to the door and turned around, “Your favourite place in the world,”

My second Chapter in the untitled story. Sorry if it isn't as good as the first, it was a little rushed. Thanx for reading. Oh  and - please ignore the skype number things - they are actually supposed to be the years but blogger keeps putting a skype link on it.
Tigerlily

Bethy

Chapter 1

Bethy was worried
That she’d never be happy again

It had been a long time since Bethy had felt genuinely happy.

Even her best friend, Jasmine said that she was no fun anymore.

Once in a while, Bethy had flash backs of times before,

when she had not a have a care in the world and the days never ended.

As she walked home from school she felt the cool afternoon breeze stroke her face. It seemed to say to her: “It’s all right. It’s all right, my little Elizabeth,”
She remembered how her Uncle Al knelt down next to her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, your mum will always be with you,” Tears pricked her eyes and Bethy let them fall, now she was alone she could cry without feeling guilty.

Uncle Al lifted his head from the newspaper as he heard the squeak of the door open, and then close again. “Bethy?”

Bethy paused in-front of the hallway mirror to make sure no signs of tears showed.

“Yeah,” she said, walking into the living room. Uncle Al lifted his hands up in the air and gave her a big smile. Bethy faked a grin and ran into his arms.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,”

Bethy was in no mood for one of Uncle’s surprises but she played along, just so she wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Oh, really?”

“Just for you, Queen Elizabeth,”

“Prince Alfred, what ever could it be?”

Queens and Princes was a special game of theirs. Bethy recalled the times before when she would laugh and squirm and while Uncle would tease her. It had always made her feel so special, but now nothing could make her feel alive again. Her Uncle stood up, letting her fall to the green plush carpet of their living room. “Aha!” he said walking into the kitchen. “Now I’ve been a bit impetuous today,” he called from the next room. “But,” There was a bit of noise as he rummaged through boxes trying to find the right one. “I’ll do anything for my…” He bowed low to the ground and held out a parcel, “queen,”

“Oh, thank you Alfred,” she replied with a sweet smile. She loved her Uncle so much, to think what would happen if she lost him…

She ripped open the parcel with excitement, hoping to see what she had longed for, for a few months now.

“Oh my goodness!” Bethy cried. She lifted the small rectangle box to her heart and hugged it tight.

“Be careful there, little miss, your going to squeeze all the paint out!” he chuckled. Bethy reached out her arms and hugged her uncle tight. There was no need for words – He knew what she was thinking and hugged her back, really tight. For the rest of the after noon, they painted vivid colours. They swirled and splashed and let the colours run wild, running into each other. Uncle taught her how to make the brush run on an angle to get a smooth thin line, he taught her how to blend colours and use the right amount of water. Bethy forgot what had happened before; she forgot about everyone and just focused on her painting. There was a glimmer of hope in her heart and Bethy felt she was in a state of Euphoria. Bethy didn’t say it out loud or even in her head, but she knew that she had never felt so alive.

A very short chapter, tell me what you think.
Tigerlily

The Magic of Writing

Words form, gradually curving
Ideas swarm, imagination whirling
Straining brains or glowing eyes
Stories opened filled with surprise


Paragraph after paragraph or verse after verse
Trying to fight that writers block curse
Keep the ideas coming
Keep the ideas running


Fingers trembling, excitement heard
Keep on going, write one more word
Planning it out, plots are laid
Chapters are born and endings are made


Swirling curling inside your brain
Dreams and thoughts going insane
And when someone reads your work and their eyes open wide
You get a warm and fuzzy feeling inside


Discover and learn, make your creation
It can be fun but it'll take determination
Express yourself, reach beyond the stars
You can never take your writing too far


Stories, creation
Ideas, imagination
Wonder, amazement
Fear, anticipation


The magic of writing

I just wrote this poem because I love writing and I think it is really magical in some ways.
Tigerlily

Global Warming

Toxic fumes, in the air

Killing the earth like there's nothing to spare

Nuclear plants, green house gases

Melting icebergs by the masses

Carbon Dioxide, overflowing
Nobody stopped to wonder where it's going
Global Warming getting near
Trapped heat in the atmosphere

Fossil Fuels making it worse
Not a blessing but a curse
Nuclear power-plants polluting the earth
The damage it's caused is hard to reverse


Greenhouse gases, emitting radiation
Global Warming is human kind's creation
The Ozone Layer, a protective shield
The reason of it's depletion has already been revealed

Man's want, man's need
Will never make the earth succeed
Man's greed, man's must
Might just make the world combust

Global Warming in the air
We can stop it if we care'
Global Warming coming fast
Prevent it. Before the problem gets too vast

Thank you for reading this poem. I really believe that global warming is an important issue and should be discussed, if not atleast thought about.
Tigerlily

Need Inspiration

Sometimes you forgot
About things you need to do
You get so caught up in everything
You forget everything too

Then you realise the date
And suddenly you're in a flutter
Your memory must be on the break and
Your brain must be waxed with butter

You try to start your piece
But something isn't right
The inspirations not coming to you
You need a different light

So what do you do when the inspiration
Just don't wanna show?
And not only that, the time is ticking
and nobody seems to know

Well now I'm telling my big dilema
and I hope that there'll be help
Please, Please give some inspiration
Don't make me howl and yelp!

Okay, I forgot all about a writers night and I need to write something quick! I'm going to write a poem. What should I write it about?

Memory-lessly,
Tigerlily

Untitled Story

Chapter 1

    One day I woke up to find a penguin sitting on the end of my bed. It was an unusual thing to find on the end of anyone’s bed and some might pinch themselves to make sure it wasn’t a dream. For some reason I didn’t do this. I looked at the penguin, eyed it up and down to make sure it indeed was a penguin and then finally (when I was 100% sure) I stuck my hand out for it to shake. The penguin peered at me curiously. It stared at my hand for a few seconds, wondering what to do and then decided to peck it. I shot my hand back in fright and studied it (as one would do) to make sure there wasn’t any physical damage and gave the penguin a frown of annoyance. How rude! I thought. This penguin certainly does not have many manners at all.

Then I realized my mistake. How had I been so dumb? “Sorry” I said. “I forgot that penguins don’t have hands” The penguin made a curious sort of high-pitched gurgling noise and hopped off my bed. It waddled its way to my closet and started rumbling through my pile of laundry. I was about to scold it when I saw something small and round. I leapt out my bed and stepped onto the carpet. “Oh!” I said, trying to get as close to it as I dared. “You laid an egg!” The penguin seemed to smile at me and then it (yet again) made that high-pitched noise. “It’s a pretty egg, isn’t it?” The penguin nodded its head. “You must be proud of it,” The penguin nodded its head once again, except this time more dramatically, showing me how proud she was with the emphasis of her nod. Then, she started to nudge the egg closer to her feet. I watched in silence as she slowly pushed it into a pouch she had. I didn’t know penguins have pouches, I thought to myself.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not expecting an answer. She starred at me, probably wondering whether or not to tell me her secret. “Its alright,” I whispered. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“Okay, I trust you,” she said. Wait. No she couldn’t have said that, penguins don’t talk. “Penguins do talk,” she said. “No they don’t!” I found myself telling her. She seemed to shrug her shoulders as if she was done trying to convince me. “Humans are all the same. I thought you were different.” She turned to my window and pushed her flipper on it, trying to get the latch open. “Wait!”

She turned around and stopped what she was doing. “I DO believe you. I’m so sorry about before, I just was a little bit confused, humans are like that you see,” She frowned as if she was having trouble believing me. “Okay. Hop on my back,” I frowned (there seemed to be a lot of frowning going on here). “What are you ta…” “Look, I thought you said you weren’t like other humans,” she interrupted. I was thinking of responding by saying I had not actually said that I wasn’t like other humans but only said that I believed her but decided not. I climbed on her back. It was actually more comfortable then it seemed and she was bigger than I thought. There seemed to be a fold of fat that acted as a seat for me and there was this bit of fur on her back that was much longer that I held onto like reigns. “You ready?” I couldn’t respond to this. After all, who ever heard of someone being ready to ride on a penguin? Even if it was a giant, talking one.

The window was now wide open, big enough to fit a giant penguin. I knew she was going to attempt to fly and so I got ready to fall. I wasn’t stupid. I knew penguins couldn’t fly. It just wasn’t what Mother Nature had given them. She probably had done all the other birds and when she got to the penguins, the ostriches and emus (plus all other non-flying birds) she just thought, well I have enough of those flying types, perhaps these ones will be different. I guess I was very deeply emerged in my thoughts for I didn’t seem to realize that my legs were hanging off the penguin and not firmly situated on the ground. This time I thought I’d give pinching a crack. “Ow!” I cried as I saw my whole arm go red. The penguin made a tutting noise, “Humans think they’re so smart but sometimes I wonder how their species survived all this time,”

I was just about to give a rude remark (much like the one she’d given me) when I saw where the penguin was heading. Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh. We’re going to DIE!!!!! Was the first thing I thought, for we were heading (would you believe it) right into the sun.

I think I blanked out.
I opened my eyes to see the penguin (of which I still didn’t know the name of) staring straight at me. “Oh she’s here again,” she said, like as if I wasn’t there before. Which I guess I wasn’t, really, since I was unconscious. I wondered whether I really was in heaven. I wondered if I’d ever see my family again and if they would be wondering where I was. Would they send a search party out for me? If someone had spotted me on the back of a penguin, flying into the sun, would they believe them?
I think the penguin was some kind of mind reader because she tutted at me once again (I was beginning to think she was turning into my mum) and pointed to somewhere with her flipper.
I tried to find out where she was pointing to but it was golly well hard with all the stupid giants blocking the way. Wait. Giants?

This is the first chapter to my new story. I don't know what to call it - please give me ideas, I would love to hear them! Thank you for reading.
Tigerlily

Nightmares Don't Last Forever

*a hope chamber is the place where hope lives

It’s puzzling trying to understand,
How do problems get fixed in the end?
When it starts you ask yourself the same old questions
But I don’t think that’s a very good suggestion

Will this keep on going on?
Will this race ever be won?
Why does it seem like the world’s tumbling down?
That someone tries to make you frown?

Yes, friends repeated that things would change,
that you’d feel the need to live again.
But it’s hard to believe even those you trust,
when your hope-chamber needs a dust.*

After being bruised and hurt,
tired and troubled, torched and burnt,
You wonder if your scars will heal
And dream of what the future reveals

You got lost, in the midst of the nightmare,
You wanted to breathe, you wanted some air…
Then! When you came out and the dream ended,
You felt relief even though you still needed to be mended.

And finally you get it, you realise your mistake
You thought that you were fine before but now you’re awake
The experience will help when you come across (yet again)
Now another nightmare (though this ones different) because you know that it’ll end

Authors Note: Its true, things come out alright in the end.
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