The Tea ~ A Collection of Rants & Poems As long as I can remember, life has always seemed sort of poetic to me: Walking home down a street that looks empty, maybe sad- a look on your face that hints at your deepest thoughts of the day. Talking to a stranger that you've never met before and getting really good advice out of nowhere. Sipping terrible tea that ends up tasting more like a mix of leaves and butt than anything soothing, so you spill it all over the carpet. It's all sort of poetry, ya know? Just a simultaneous mix of feelings and experiences that unexpectedly end up almost beautiful. It's whatever you're feeling, ugly or nice. It's just going through life. Art is undeniably everywhere; I suppose for me it's writing down (or typing out) all the things that I never got to say. Spilling the beans, so to speak. Although spilt tea would make a lot more sense in this instance. Bitter, butt-tea.

Hi everyone, a few of us (@gagaga149, @Creeperzzzzz, @wat_up_160, and @jaxen123456) have come up with a new idea: we're gonna randomly talk and post it!!! If you want to join in for a round, please private message @gagaga149 and we'll put you on the list!!! (this will require a gmail account since we use google docs)

There once was a maze in a kingdom, holding a wretched beast. Eight are chosen to go inside, and said to be deceased. You probably know this tale quite well, but this one has a twist. The monster in this giant maze may very well be missed. But I won’t give away the story. No, you’ll have to read. Don’t you want to find out if this monster’s what it seems? ---------------------------------- So, everyone, we'll try to update as often as possible, so yeah... Hope you like it!!! -LadyChoco310

Randomness. This is what this book is all about. If I feel a drama coming on? I'll slam it into here. A little poetic itchiness creeping up my throat? I'll puke it up in here. If I have a sudden idea for a magnificent story, but only know what's gonna happen in the first two chapters? Yup. You guessed it: this is its home. This book's intention is an enigma, its point undefined. It exists in a vaccuum of reason, devoid a any set purpose but existing. This book is the definition of random. This will be the thing that you, your children, and your children's children come to, when bored, for generations to come. And they will laugh heartily, but not know why. This is The Book of Random. All rights are left