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Literature Text
I keep on trying
But I always fail
It keeps on changing
But it's the same old tale
I try to fight it
But it always wins
It leaves me wondering
What were my sins
What did I do
To deserve this strife
Why can't I
Simply lead a happy life
It keeps getting harder
To keep up this fight
And I'm finding
I don't have the might
I'm too tired
To repeat the past
Every time it's tougher
To simply last
To not give up
Before the start
To not give in
To my aching heart
It's insanity to try
When I know the result
After so many fails
It's only my fault
I know I can't fix this
And it won't go away
The best I can do
Keep it shortly at bay
I need someone's help
I can't fix it alone
I can't break this cycle
All on my own
But that's the problem
I'm doomed to repeat
I can't ask for help
When I expect deceit
If I can't trust
Those who say they care
Then how can I trust
They'll truly be there
So as long as I'm stuck
Without any support
The result will continue
Be the same report
I will try
And I will fail
It will end sooner or later
But be the same old tale.
April 11th, 2013
A. Heimby
But I always fail
It keeps on changing
But it's the same old tale
I try to fight it
But it always wins
It leaves me wondering
What were my sins
What did I do
To deserve this strife
Why can't I
Simply lead a happy life
It keeps getting harder
To keep up this fight
And I'm finding
I don't have the might
I'm too tired
To repeat the past
Every time it's tougher
To simply last
To not give up
Before the start
To not give in
To my aching heart
It's insanity to try
When I know the result
After so many fails
It's only my fault
I know I can't fix this
And it won't go away
The best I can do
Keep it shortly at bay
I need someone's help
I can't fix it alone
I can't break this cycle
All on my own
But that's the problem
I'm doomed to repeat
I can't ask for help
When I expect deceit
If I can't trust
Those who say they care
Then how can I trust
They'll truly be there
So as long as I'm stuck
Without any support
The result will continue
Be the same report
I will try
And I will fail
It will end sooner or later
But be the same old tale.
April 11th, 2013
A. Heimby
Literature
Three Words
"Alright there, Sherlock?" the memory of John's warm familiar voice inquires from somewhere within his mind palace. It's not something he purposely saved in his mental database, but it usage was so common that it just stuck. Not that he ever tried to delete the associated memories. It is a bit of a default phrase between them. Was a bit of a default phrase, that is. It was used in the days of their easy companionship. When crime was complicated, but their friendship was simple. John's companionship was something he took for granted, a novel experience for him. Then Moriarty's shadow passed over them and everything went to hell. Not that he b
Literature
Distracting Thoughts
1:04
Stop that.
SH
1:04
Why are you texting me?
JW
1:05
You're thinking. It's distracting.
SH
1:06
And you can't just tell me? I'm right here.
JW
1:06
True. But given the nature of your thoughts I doubt you would appreciate me saying anything aloud.
SH
1:07
That's unusually considerate of you.
JW
1:07
Not really. You simply become difficult when you're embarrassed.
SH
1:08
And what makes you think the nature of my thoughts are embarrassing?
JW
1:08
Well I doubt low lighting is responsible for your pupil dilation.
SH
1:09
I can't help it that you're sexy when you're deducing stuff.
JW
1:09
You think I'm sexy?
SH
Literature
Why Me? Part I
Sometimes I lie awake at night and ask myself, "Why me?"
Tonight is no different. I am supposed to be finally getting some rest after a long, hard day's work. By "work," I mean baby-sitting Sherlock and helping him with his cases. My job at the clinic is far easier to manage than tackling the enigma that is Sherlock Holmes. Today, he was especially difficult. It all started this morning
when freezing water splashed onto my face and Sherlock's cross visage was frowning inches away from mine. I lurched backwards a few metres and slammed into the wall, which elicited a string of profanities. I looked at the clock. 2:34 a.m. Furious
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I love love love this poem, love it