Smoke.


Once you see that word you may think of fire. Cigarettes. A lighter, match, Whatever it may be. Some stem fear from this smell.
I don't. I sense comfort.
Its the same smell I recognize during parties. Everyone smoking and enjoying the absence of their problems.
Or maybe the scent that coated my ex and his family.
I find the smell completely intoxicating. I can recognize the smell from a mile away and find relaxtion.
I never liked cigarettes and of course I still despise them. I promise myself to never smoke anything of the sort since I rather not die so fast. Still, I can't help but find myself lured to those people. That smell of smoke in the air is a dangerous sign yet it's something so

tranquil.

Python 3 Computer programming language

Have text, eventually will add the actually number sequence to create the color ....
Instead of a grave yard can we have a computer yard where we get a little light for giving a digital code that makes the forest grow.... grow little pixel, Iter it

rainbow = ['red', 'orange', 'yellow', 'green', 'blue', 'indigo', 'violet']

for i in range(len(rainbow)):
print('Color Sequence of Rainbow:', rainbow[i])
"C:\Users\Mary Page\venv2\Scripts\python.exe" "C:/theano//Python Programs/.py"
Color Sequence of Rainbow: red
Color Sequence of Rainbow: orange
Color Sequence of Rainbow: yellow
Color Sequence of Rainbow: green
Color Sequence of Rainbow: blue
Color Sequence of Rainbow: indigo
Color Sequence of Rainbow: violet

The last time i went to play this game I was stuck inside a rock. I couldent see my deer or move my deer, I was just stuck. This rock wasactualy a white statue, and when ever i waited there a red and white deer showed up next to the statue. Plese fix this. I cant do anything while being stuck in a rock.

Twilight makes for mystic visions and crystal clear revelations. Lying in the soft grass near the faucet I rolled my tawny fur around making an S curve with my body. As the dust arose from my friction a frog appeared in sight of my eyes. Kicking my hooves up in the air I rolled to my side rising and hopped as the frog did right into the sparkling water. Taking a drink I transformed into the black bird. Singing and calling my eyes burned into an orange fire embering and remembering what was and once finished what would be. Feeling my soul I reviewed how Martin Luther and Pericles had betrayed me and so many others. Rising up in a spiral I touched the limb known as the hand of God. That calling thrills me and despairs me all in the same thought. It ignites that which should have never been taken away. As the veins filled with the power of nature the winds blew giving blessings. The ring broke making a C. It flowed all the way to the pond and as the waters rose all was cleansed to begin again. The twin gods gleamed as always in the twilight waiting....