stephaniehortoncsi_yahoo.com
The first thing you should understand is my initial plan for this website. I had planned in the begining that I was going to create a desk or table representing the site with random nick-nacks covering the white table.And I had wanted it to be cluttered and messy . I initialy wanted it to look as realistic as I could possibly make it with the creative skills I have and the resources that were available to me I set to work. The over-all look of the website took me days to create and so I still have a-lot of writing to do so that there will actually be a purpose for the website.
Music- Did you know that the purple CD player can be listened to. I have a few select songs that I listen to on a regular basis that I thought would be a great addition to the home page.
Links- As of yet I have been to buisy to create links from the items on the desk; however you can access the other pages by clicking on the left hand corner arrows in blue. When your mouse hovers over a link it will turn into a red tab.
- You will be able to provide me with your critics and opinions on the site and its content(all written and copyright by me) on the poems page(refer back to the info on links to see how to find it.
If you want me to add your website; you must first realize that I don't add every site that is thrust at my desk. I pick through them all like a potentia; employer; with many of the same ideals in mind.
-neatness
-overall look
-creativity
-no pop-up ads
-a good amount of content.
-Only your own work
+ And ofcourse you yourself must own the website
Submit from the contact form on the poems page.
locate below the ink spill and above the breast cancer awareness bracelet( which I will be doing a piece about soon).
Soft white lillys lay in a heap on a scratched , wobbly oak surface. A pot cherries lay abandoned beside them. A cold breeze blew into the tiny unkept room, blowing out a candle as it breathed its entrance.
rusty, feathered, hand-sewn, crinkled, salty, grainy, colorful, brim, crisp, smooth, slimy, shiny, milky, light, vibrant, wet, paste, doughy, soft, hard, mediu-rare, gunky, dirty, saggy, dark, bottomless, milky white, full moon, wobbly, arched, 180 degree angle, toothless, cakey, chipped, emitting,
Pie
cocoa mix
cereal
milk 2
butter
As a lay awake that night pondering for hours about how I could have been fooled in such a way, I went over the plan. It wasn't a brilliant plan, but it had seemed to work for others before me. Besides I had no time to recontruct an entirely new plan. Not with the guests arriving tomorrow morning. I sipped my last wine glass and indulged myself into a warm salted bubble bath. Before slipping under the satin sheets and dozing off to the peaceful sounds of stillness. Tomorrow everything would reflect apon the work iv'e been constructing for months , everything had to go right.
I was born to a middle class family of four(at the time of my birth). But before my own story can be told it only makes sense to tell the stories of my mother, father,and older brother and sister before me.
My mother, Leigh Anne May 24th 1967 was legally blind and was a house-wife at the time. My father, Howard Jose July 12 1967, was also legally blind, but had the vision of a near sighted person from his right eye. My mother became blind because of a cancerous tumor in her eyes when she was a baby. She had exposed herself to too much sun-light. The doctors did not think she would live long after that, but obviously she did. My father became blind through the actions of his prostitute mother who came at him on a drunkin rage one cold lonely night at the age of ten. She stabbed his left eye with a high-heeled shoe. One of the benefits of this abuse at such a young age was that he was taken and put into foster care(more in-depth detail of his foster care accounts soon). From there he moved onto attending TN school for the blind. In-fact this place is were my parents met. My mothers parents decided to send her there as well.
My mother found out that she was pregnant with her first baby in the begining of her last year in highschool( look for the title Strange Highschool for a more indepth story on her life at the school). My father stepped up tp the plate and married her soon after.( to view his school story in detail look for the story titled " Racial Supression". They lived in a small apartment in TN when my older brother Ryan was born in 1987.( for funny stories about the apartment see Life in 1987).
.....Pending futher writing.....
- free takout.
- Racial Profiling
A. Under fed baby
....Coming Soon
In the process of writing:
Co-writer: Howard Horton
1990
-My Birth
-Shirts for pants
- hospital security
1994
- Aunt steals
- Fighting aunts
- 2 is better than 3
- Jason is born
1996
-Nicholas is born
- moving to worse conditions
- switching roles
1995
- The Queen's Party
- A child's funeral
- Coping with the changes
- A time traveling lie and a tooth ache
1999
-Eric is born
- being a 2nd mother
- Learning about babies
2001
- almost kidnapped
-struggling through emotions
-running for election
-Harry Potter
2004
-War of the parents
- running free
- Divorce
-Nwando/ Ikem
2006
-Pressure
- camping out at the hospital
-Tephany
-Cancer found
2007
- Adam
-Alcohol radio-waves
-Ciggarettes?
- Experience
2008
-bail bondsman
- Another funeral
A.racial detention
B. in the wrong
C. Adapting to motherhood
- Congestive Heart Failure
-2009
- Hospital familiarity
- GPA
- Not graduating
-prom
-Shelter life
Present:2010
-Shelter Life
- 2years
-College
- The boys <3
- living with Adam
Father's years in highschool differed from my mothers because of the ethnic differences.
He was black and she was white. She was a girl and he was a boy.
As crazy as this sounds there were racial wars between the races of the school. In-fact ironically, this is how my parents met.
...+This story and more soon+...
Mother's stay at TN school for the blind always interested me because of the strange and sometimes shocking things she would say happened to her at her highschool back in the 80's.
The first thing I should inform you about is that my mother and father were attending a school for strictly legally blind students of highschool age. They slept at the school in dorms on the week days and went home on a bus for the weekend.
As in all schools their school included the popular crowd, the geeks, the jocks, the basket cases, and the criminals.
My mother could be classified as apart of the popular crowd.
She had all types of friends, race didn't matter to her. She was strongly against racail profiling.
My mother shared a dorm room with one other occupant. Her name was Tammy...
Pending further writing....
My college education
For my major i'm taking Criminal Justice.
This is the area in which my creative scratch drafts will go. These are descriptive stories I have created on whem. I usually never think about what I will write about before hand. I believe a writers best work comes from free flow writing, not that writing a well thought out story couldn't be excellent. I will date and name these descriptive/creative story entries and would like you to comment on them on the bio page ( you find details on how to access this page under web instructions).
Why shouldn't I be punished? Why shouldn't I deserve the karma that has flooded in on me. My heart bares many
loads, though others hearts have bared so much more. How dare I, a person who should relish in the good and fortunate
things in my life, relinquish the best things I have (d) in life. There tiny hands clasping so tightly at mine, tightly holding on
to all theyve got left. And I let them slip, I killed their joy, their innocent ignorance in the idea that life is simply bliss and
nothing more. Tears of laughter are a distant sound; now all I hear inside my mind are tears full of hate and sadness. I
deserve these tears, I once had happiness, however much it came and went. At least it came. Now I have nothing, nothing
to sow, nothing to be thankful for. My life doesn't effect anyone elses, I have no remorse for I lay convincing myself
every night that what I did was for the benefit of us all. when really, my actions will never be justified.
2010
Stephannie Horton
-Last modified on Tuesday January 31rst 2012
Quote:
"
Of all that is written, I only love what a person has written in his blood."
Friedrich Nietzsche
Aug 30th- My BirthDay (1990)
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