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SympathyThere was a man yesterday at my window
Asking me why his wife had left him.
Opened the window,
Put my hands on his face,
And snapped his neck
“If you had only told her how much you loved her,
She could have given you all you wanted and more”
Me and You, Yesterday You asked me about my life yesterday, and at the time I wasn't really able to respond truthfully. Well, here you go: the complete and total truth (because I literally have nothing better to do).
Two days ago I enlisted myself in a 10 day insomnia research project to see if it would somehow help me wake me up to the reality of the world (ha, ha, see what I did there?). I don't know why; I don't even suffer from insomnia. Really, my enlistment in the program is like a giant dick up the ass of the research facility. They have to deal with assholes like me all the time. I guess I really don't care anymore- when they find out I don't qualify I'll probably be too far into the study for them to take any legal action. Even if I don't finish the study I still get a stipend. That's a consolation, I guess.
The thing that keeps me up at night isn't really insomnia, it's my over analytical thought process. I have an obsession with the human condition- with eyes especially
LinearLife seems to move in a
Linear direction in
From brights to black.
It turns greyer every day
Like your hair will do;
Like your sight will do
Where are we now?
Can we point on a palate?
On a page?
When we run our fingers through
The braile-stained book of life
We flip the switch, close the door, and
Try to sleep through the darkness.
I think that our days are
Darkened by insight
And pictures of long dead insects
I think that we believe
Our perfect wings to be broken.
Are we as old now at this moment
As we will ever be,
Or is everything happening…
I Know BetterShe whispers to me with her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking;
I'd say she hates me,
Steeping TeaThere is a place not too far from your
Mind’s eye where an alligator sits down
To enjoy the scenery. However, as he
Sits, the world begins to melt.
First go the trees, melting like little
Wax soldiers left out in the sun. The
Alligator doesn’t really mind. He is paying
Too much attention to the mouth forming
In the centre of a purple marsh.
As he watches, the mouth begins to swallow
The colour from the world. And it is
Painful, too. A million colours are gone now
As if they never existed, as if they were
Sucked from the flesh of imagination.
Finally the mouth opens to tell the alligator
Good morning, but the alligator is gone,
And the colourless sun has begun its descent.
Sleep DownWake up,
We can make breakfast in bed and
Weave together our calloused fingers
We can share our afternoons
Pretending like the world is made of diamonds
We can stay up late and
Laugh at those old nightime TV shows
Mr DeathMr. Death has got me by my teeth
WHY DON'T YOU RUN
WHY STOP NOW?
Do not dare to move a muscle.
Parable of the Raging RiverOn opposite sides of a river valley lived two farmers with their families- one strong and young, the other a little older. One day a storm rolled in, and the river flooded.
Their homes were destroyed- stone and wood scattered by the raging river. Their loved ones cold and without shelter, both men were angry at the loss.
"I will not stand for this!" the strong farmer cried. "We have the right to live in safety and harmony. We did nothing wrong- but the river struck us. This injustice will not happen again- I will stop the river, destroy it, foul its course!"
He took his sons and prepared, collecting stone, timber, and tools to stop the river.
"Come, help us!" He called to the elder farmer. "The river is your enemy too."
The elder thought, then said no.
"What's wrong with you!" cried the first farmer. "Don't you want your family to be safe?"
"Of course I do. But I do not stand against the river."
"You would allow harm to come
Your servantYour a witch giant who has different servants that your can do what ever you want which one we'll be your personal servant ?
1) max/Lisa - makes your dinners
2) sam/ Alice - plaything
3) Tristan / Nikki- they we'll do anything u want
18+ is allowed
Sitting in Chains. I'm sitting in chains, condemned to my own personal hell, to the darker side of my mind that has withered and aged beyond my years, Whispering my fears to me quietly in the dead of night, edging me further into the abyss of time, time that will eventually throw me at the feet of my inevitable death. But until then I will continue this deadly masquerade until one day I pull the mask off and fall into oblivion.
Shadows on the WallsShadows on the Walls
The shadows flickered on the walls, as they did every night. The room was empty save for them, and the stiff, inflexible mattress upon which he lay. The shadows danced a flexuous dance that captivated Ivan's soul. He had come to name them; they were his only friends, after all. He named them by their attributes. There was Pointy Shadow: a shadow with many sinister spikes, which jutted out from its undulating figure, splattered against the dull, blistering canvas that was the peeling walls of Ivan's small apartment. It abided in the left corner of the room. Then there was Elusive Shadow, a shadow that was not always there. It appeared every so often—when the moon reached its zenith. Then there was Wavy Shadow, appearing as a rippling tide in the far right-hand corner of the room. It was diminutive and serene, but when the darkness was at its strongest, it would surge and flow as a tempestuous ocean. One final shadow remained: the Unmoving Shadow. Barely
The Red BalloonThe Red Balloon
There was once a girl called Bella who everyday on the way to school would pass a man selling balloons. One particular morning Bella noticed a big red balloon right at the back of the bunch that the man was holding and instantly fell in love with it.
'Mum, Mum can I get that balloon?'
she would ask everyday, only to hear the reply of,
'No Bella! It's a waste of money and it will just shrivel up and die!'
Bella would always sigh and look away, perhaps she would never get the balloon...
But one day she had an idea. Maybe if she saved up all her pocket money, she could sneak out and buy it.
So that is what she did.
One sunny day after school Bella went to the man who sold the balloons and bought the big red balloon that she has been dreaming of for so long. As soon as she got it everything felt amazing; she twirled around the street with it and danced along the pavement.
But then she remembered her mother. She wouldn't be very happy that Bella had bought the balloon - or g
MetamorphosisI have always been a caterpillar.
I eat and eat and squirm around things. I hide from predators. I may look cute, but I am still a bug.
One day I decided I couldn't keep surviving with a squishy exterior.
Squirming and hiding is no way to live.
I dreamt of a day when I would grow strong and beautiful and fly far away to drink in the sweetness of life and be admired.
So I built myself a chrysalis. I was worried at first because I could no longer see anything outside of myself.
But it was strong and protected me.
I broke myself down and I built myself back up, hoping to outgrow these strong walls as something stronger. Something free.
When the day finally came with a harsh crack of sunlight, I froze. I squinted. I hissed.
Unaccustomed to my new form, I fell out of my cocoon, a long ways down and could not fly immediately.
When my plated wings finally cracked open in desperation, I glided--a short distance--with a sickening buzz.
This isn't right. What have I become?
I stagger towa
El monje y la ninfaEn toda mi vida como monje de esta región de la alta montaña he aprendido valiosas lecciones. He adquirido inestimables enseñanzas de sabiduría en los libros antiguos, sobre la importancia de la paz consigo mismo y con aquellos que les rodean. Sin embargo no hay mejor maestro en ningún domo como lo es la naturaleza misma. He dedicado arduas horas de mi vida a observar inocentemente a todas las formas que nos rodean, a conectar sus espíritus con el mío, porque todo lo que nos rodea acá es vida y no menos que vida libre. Una de las que más cautivó mi atención fue la pequeña ninfa que encontré cerca de la fuente que da al río.
Recién había terminado los quehaceres que me correspondían y me aventuraba entre los alrededores para conocer mejor el lugar, a pesar de haber sucedido esto cuando era joven puedo contemplar en mi memoria con claridad aquel primer encuentro. Me sentaba con la mirada perdida en los b
Getting Lost in The Everfree ForestTo many ponies, the Everfree Forest can be a frightening place. It's untamed, full of mystery, and unknown dangers. The Pegasus ponies don't control the weather nor do the Earth ponies cultivate the land. While it is frightening, there are many beauties that hide in this world too that are alien to Ponyville. The Castle of the Two Sisters hides here. Many of the wildlife call the Everfree Forest their homes. Though we live in Ponyville, we have a world within us that is the Everfree Forest. We may not be aware of it but at some point in our lives, we awaken to the fact that we are right dab in the middle of the Everfree Forest, with the direction to go to back to Ponyville a mystery to us. It may be terrifying for someponies but it's not all bad. The Everfree Forest has some pit stops that are safe like Zecora's hut or the Castle of the Two Sisters. These serve as markers to help us find our way back to Ponyville. We als
A woman who lovedI knew of a woman. A woman born, inadequately shaped to our standards of beauty, yet superseding that with wisdom scraped from the gray ghetto streets and hands that master the art of fulfilling cuisine. The woman also Loved.
Men —more like boy — teased.
And the world cared not.
Yet the woman still Loved. Her floppy smile somehow spread warmth more than the sun itself; her benevolent nature contrasted that nasty setting of 134 Burnt Street. She limped whenever she walked home, and the people thought less of her for the knee strained in a car accident. A gentle smile was still on her face, and she greeted them like old family, not a sign of hurt within those mossy eyes.
I knew of a woman. She talked to me when I sat alone on the park bench — new in that odd place. She smiled her floppy smile. And she became my first friend.
Men —more like boy — teased.
The Air I opened my front door and lifted my eyelids. The morning air was cold enough to materialize my breath, but my face felt warm enough that the air was refreshing rather than chilling. I stepped into the doorway expecting something extraordinary, only to feel the familiar crunch of gravel under my shoes like tiny bones breaking under the weight of my conscious body. The morning was familiar with me already, though we had never met. She wrapped her body of fog around mine as I stepped out of my doorway and swept her icy fingers through my hair as I drifted down the pathway of gravel-bones. The day was my pet, she was my other half, we were one, and against such a non-concrete being I felt naked.
"Together," The morning seemed to whisper into my ears, "together, together, together."
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More