Vampirequeen10

Thousands of hearts bleed for a town, as thousands of eyes cry thousands of tears. Thousands of prayers are sent to the Lord, thousands of prayers for a grieving Connecticut town. Thousands of people in Newtown and the world mourn for the loss of twenty-seven souls. Twenty of them were children, taken far too soon. The other seven were adults, all loved and admired by many, but taken far too soon as well. All of them left loved ones behind, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, and many others who will miss them as well. Twenty-seven families and many more friends must all bear the burden of unimaginable pain. In two

July 5th, 1863 My Dearest Samantha, I hope this letter finds you happy and healthy.  I am sorry for not sending you any recent letters, but I have not had a chance to write until now as I am currently recovering from a wound that I received two days ago during a battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, which is where I am writing to you from.  Do not be alarmed, I was merely hit in the leg with a bullet and the doctor was able to remove it with very little trouble, so I should be fully healed in no time.  I miss you, Samantha, and I am looking forward to seeing you again when this war is over.  Please give my regards to your mother and your fami

As a sports fan, certain numbers remind me of certain current or former baseball players. Up until two months or so ago, any mention of the number 30 would leave me with either no memory of the number being worn by a New York Met or any other baseball player, or I would somehow be reminded of Cliff Floyd, who was an outfielder with the Mets in the early 2000s. I liked him a lot, even though the only thing that I remember about him was that he caught the last out in the game that the Mets won to clinch the NL East Division title in 2006. Now that I've become a hockey fan, the number 30 makes me think of something besides a former Mets outfiel

April 20, 1840 Dear Diary, Isn't it odd that the end of your use happens on the day that a significant part of my life ends? To be honest, it's not so much of an end as a literal and metaphorical "closing of a book" for you and I. Just because this is your last page, it doesn't mean that you're done forever. You will still exist, but it will be in a new, and empty form. Just as you will be taking on a new form, I will be taking on a new title in life. You see, my dearest Diary, my wedding day has finally arrived. In a little less than three hours, I will (finally) take the last name of a man who I have loved for a little more than two years

Why do I bother loving someone when I know that he will never be mine? It breaks my heart to want him when I know that he will never want me in return. I've never met him face-to-face, but his personality, voice, and image have put me under his spell. His voice is heaven, his image divine, but such a god will never be mine. He's sweet and he's crazy, with some evil mixed in, but his beating heart is one I can't win. But why does it matter, why do I care, why do I want someone who I cannot have? I know that love is a beautiful thing, but where is the beauty in loving someone who cannot be mine?

O Captain, my Captain, the series is done, Game Seven is over, your Devils have won. The first round has ended, the next will soon begin. Up next are the Flyers, and they will not win. O Captain, my Captain, your talent is great, you are a player who the fans appreciate. You can take the Devils far, for you are a shining star. O Captain, my Captain, Round Two is complete, the Flyers are out, your team cannot be beat. Now sit back, relax, and get ready to wait, for your next opponent will be determined by fate. O Captain, my Captain, who will it be? Which team is the one that you will soon see? It could be the Capitals, from D.C,