Where I went wrong//Odell(zoe)
Mar 3, 2013 9:56:27 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2013 9:56:27 GMT -5
[bg=542437][atrb=border,0,true;][atrb=cellspacing,0,true;][atrb=cellpadding,0,true;][atrb=style, padding-top: 100px; padding-left: 30px; padding-right: 30px; background-image: url('http://25.media.tumblr.com/73d862d61dc6126a9bf1889f8e7448e1/tumblr_mj1lxkSHV91r73i6qo1_500.jpg'); background-position: center top; background-repeat: repeat; border-top-right-radius: 100px; border-top: 1px solid #000000; border-left: 1px solid #000000; border-right: 1px solid #000000; width: 500px;] Branden Rubics Ousbourne |
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Maybe there should be less NaClO. But then again the H2O might be unclean. But then again there is H3C6H5O7, how is it that I always forget these things - I mean this is just like counting one to ten!
My fingers beat against the smooth edge of my third mahogany tablethis month. Sometimes I get this idea for things - important things - but I can't seem to grasp the things I have to do. It's kind of like the concept is already there, circling the edges of my brain, but it's the procedures that I can't seem to grasp it is as if they want me to fail - it's maddening actually. A perfect example would be this experiment of mine. There is a blue vase filled with 200ml of water, a bunch of bright yellow daises, bleach, lemon juice and sugar. these are for my 13th test if my 12th test failed.
My eyes squint as I pour the bleach into the cylinder. Fingers shaking ever so slightly from the strain of controlling the flow - one slip I have to begin from the top - but thanks to practice, I ace the precision.
That is 50 ml of bleach now let us wa-
Fingers wrapping around the glass container, I lift it up. Slowly, I make my way to the windows where my test subject is located. Hunching forward till I am eye level with the vase, I slowly pour the contents of the cylinder. I take a half step back and cross my fingers - just for humor of course because there is no such thing as luck, just success and failure - then it started happening. What was a bunch of tall, bright yellow flowers, is now hunched forward. The color slowly fading from it's petals, the green leaves fall to the floor. And I uncross my fingers.
Maybe it should have been 20 ml?
My bright smile faded and is now and indifferent grin, my fingers drum against my blue jeans. Failure is part of life, I know that but why does it always happen when I'm so damn close to figuring it out. Quickly, I spin back and head for the door. I need help, a book yes, that would be a great big help.
My fingers beat against the smooth edge of my third mahogany table
My eyes squint as I pour the bleach into the cylinder. Fingers shaking ever so slightly from the strain of controlling the flow - one slip I have to begin from the top - but thanks to practice, I ace the precision.
That is 50 ml of bleach now let us wa-
Fingers wrapping around the glass container, I lift it up. Slowly, I make my way to the windows where my test subject is located. Hunching forward till I am eye level with the vase, I slowly pour the contents of the cylinder. I take a half step back and cross my fingers - just for humor of course because there is no such thing as luck, just success and failure - then it started happening. What was a bunch of tall, bright yellow flowers, is now hunched forward. The color slowly fading from it's petals, the green leaves fall to the floor. And I uncross my fingers.
Maybe it should have been 20 ml?
My bright smile faded and is now and indifferent grin, my fingers drum against my blue jeans. Failure is part of life, I know that but why does it always happen when I'm so damn close to figuring it out. Quickly, I spin back and head for the door. I need help, a book yes, that would be a great big help.
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The daylight touched my pale skin and it felt wonderful. How long have I been inside? The warmth felt nice and soon my body is poured with warm, comfortable rays. But I don't get distracted - no matter how badly I want to just sit under the sun and soak it all up - I have a job to do, so I get back to it. My steps hurried so I can't give into temptation.
I arrive in front of a wooden door, smooth and repainted with brown, hesitating for a moment but I know she wouldn't mind, so I barge right in. Looking up and down, I see cobwebs in every corner of the tower - she never got around to clean it - and below me I could see flower petals scattered on the floor. I bend my knees and pick one up and lift it to my noes, roses. The walls are stone hard and cold - just like my room - there is an atmosphere of uneasiness. But I'm used to it, so I make my way up to the familiar wooden steps, creaking at every step I take. Light slowly comes in through the little cracks on the wall. Everything is so familiar and beautiful and I just feel so at home - well of course I do because I've spent many days and night in here reading, expanding my knowledge of the world - I finally arrive at the end of the top stair. My fingers curl itself into a fist and knock on the wooden door. The knocking echoed through out the stone tower - how does Odell stand it here, it feels so lonely, but then again I'm always in my room so I should not judge.
"Odell, it's Branden could I possibly make use of some of your reading materials?" I say loud enough for her to hear on the other side.
The door opens and sunlight comes flooding out.[/color][/font][/justify][/size]
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