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ShatteredShe remembers it now; there’s blood (oh yes she can remember the blood thick and red and sticky and dead) and pain (it’s what she is made of now what she will be) and the feeling of something inside her mind snapping like a guitar string (it’s a musical sound almost pretty she takes care of it and remembers the sound of unrepairable) shattering and bleeding and disappearing in tiny supernovas that leave behind a strange urge to smile and the icy knowledge that this is what she is; shattered.
She smiles into the darkness, eyes open but unable to see (they took care of that they did), arms wrapped around her torso and legs (at least the one she can move without pain she is pain why) pressed against her chest.
They turn on the light but it’s not them and she blinks as her eyes try to adjust to the brightness (it hurts so but she missed it why did she not remember) and they’re strangers (she doesn’t think she can trust them but her body is limp and her m
Love is CruelLove is cruel.
There is no doubt in my mind about this. Love is as cruel as it is kind.
It is the curve of her jaw and the silhouette of her face I study the most. she is lovely, free and happy as a bird and with the depth and beauty of a mountain lake 'neath a full moon. Sometimes the secretive veil of darkness pulls back and I am allowed to look at what resides deep down. I am captured; mesmerised by these brief glimpses of what makes her her.
I hang on to her words and her beautiful accent more than I let show. She is important to me; far more so than she knows. When she speaks I listen.
I love her. Fully and with all my heart, I love her. I do not know if she feels the way I do, but I pray she does. Love unreturned is a slow poison.
How BarrenHow barren, this land
Once home to thousands
How empty, these hands
Begging for food
How silent, the pantheon
Sworn to protect them
How unjust, the fate
Assigned to the poor
MonochromeA garden clad in darkness
With shadows all around
A beating heart of blackened stone
With veins of rubies crowned
A moving star crossing skies alone
The day is dead, the night has come
Vanilla swirls in bowls of blood
A taste of wild and tame
A figure in a darkened hood
Never quite the same
A howling moon so far away
The desert crawls with life today
Swimming in the river deep
An ancient beast is deep asleep
Buried treasure 'neath the tree
Not for mortal eyes to see
A pen on paper, scratching words
Monochrome, a page of blurs
Light in darkness, shining weak
Frightened children for it seek
Yet, once the fleeting light is found
Cold ashes resting on the ground
Sunrise over mountains high
A painter gives a grateful sigh
Quiet reigns where sound should be
A storm is raging silently
The scratching stops, the paper curls
A hand no longer with us furls
Whispers the WindWhispers the wind
In the hours of day
O'er the noise
Of life, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours of night
In the silence
Of dark, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours between
In changing light
And sound, as it rests
LightA being at the very edge of his vision was kneeling over the fallen human. It was weaving strands of glimmering light in a web over her chest, the thin threads passing through each other and sticking in seemingly random places as she worked. The fine weave pulsed gently as it hovered just above her chest save for where the being had delicately pressed one fingertip down to attach it to the dead woman. The being then wove the connected strands into each other, and soon one thin fiber of light was attached to each of the fingertips on her right hand. She raised her hand then, gathering the strands and gently pressing them to the palm of her hand before spreading her fingers out again, letting her hand hover in the air for a few moments. The body was lifted off the ground, only a few inches, as if the little light threads were puppet strings. The strands of light glowed brighter and the world seemed to hold its breath when she brought her hand down, fingers still spread and palm flat. The
Grey and silverIn a world of grey and silver
Colours muted by the fog
I stand silent in the snowscape
With a smile of grateful joy
I see the hidden beauty
In a bleak and quiet day
The lack of sound is calming
Wish it could stay this way
This landscape that I tell of
Is never far away
As fog and frost still rule the world
You'll see it too
I promise you
There Are SeashellsSoft sunlight
And the sound of waves
It’s a beautiful sight
So different from his
Final resting place
There are seashells here
Peacock BlueThe sky is blue. It’s a beautiful shade, the colour of peacock feathers. I stand on a green hill underneath a blue sky and smile at the warm, yellow sunlight.
A gentle breeze rustles in the leaves and tousles the long grass as I close my eyes. Soft footsteps sound behind me, slightly out of sync with the wind. That’s how I hear her.
She comes to stand beside me on the hill, and her top is a link between the sky and the grass, beautiful and green-blue. She smiles at me and I smile back.
“Thunderstorm’s coming,” she says. I nod.
We stand together and watch torn clouds the colour of bruised lead close over the peacock blue sky. Somewhere lightning flashes, the momentary flare of light illuminating her face and making her features stand out in sharp relief. I take her hand.
We will weather this storm together. Because behind wild clouds of bruised lead there is a sky the colour of peacock feathers and a warm, yellow sun.
A Day with a FilipinoPart 1
Only thirty minutes. That’s how long before we experienced our first car accident. The average group would have seen that as a bad sign, called it a day, and gone to back home to bed. That’s not this story. This is the story of three guys who slammed, at thirty miles per hour, against a guard rail with zero reaction.
Zeth put his head in his hands thinking. Of course I’ve just evened out the damage to my car.
Good ol’ Zeth. He managed to veer into the car rail when the car in front of us decided to slam on its brakes out of nowhere. Otherwise him and Harold would have been in the other car’s backseat saying howdy.
As Zeth got out to take a look at the damage the car in front of us decided it was excellent timing to peel away. Zeth rawr’d, “ NOOOOOOO!!!!” Then proceeded to do an angry man jig. Meanwhile Harold and I watched highly entertained.
Harold was the reason for this journey. He needed to update his passport in order to retur
CatsCats are, in some ways, better than humans at being friends. Now, I know this is going to make some people sit up straighter, put their hands adamantly on their hips and say, "But cats can't speak, they can't understand you, and they are definitely are not capable of human emotion!". But you see, indignant Homo Sapiens, while you are indeed correct in all of those points raised, cats will, given that you treat them well and with care, sit quietly on you lap on a rainy day as you watch a very annoyed John scream at an extremely bored Sherlock as he shoots the bright yellow smiley face on the wall, and will share the heat their body generates with you as you stroke their fuzzy ears, and although they cannot share their thoughts with you or express their feelings, cats will not (as I know from real life experience) spread rumours about you or talk among themselves behind your back. Just...just think about that for a while, okay?
Vita da Dalton - In ritardo (Parte 1)Nicoletta stava correndo verso casa più veloce che poteva. Era uscita con i suoi amici, ma non si era resa conto dell'ora; era molto in ritardo, e sapeva che i suoi fratelli si erano di certo arrabbiati.
Vide che le luci della casa erano ancora accese, e sobbalzò, realizzando che i suoi fratelli erano ancora alzati ad aspettarla. Le cose si stavano mettendo male.
Turò fuori la chiave dalla tasca, aprì la porta ed entrò in casa. Non appena ebbe richiuso la porta, iniziò a cercare i suoi fratelli. Entrò nel soggiorno camminando all'indietro e, quando si voltò, sobbalzò per la sorpresa.
esclamò, vedendo il fratello maggiore in piedi di fronte a lei, con le braccia incrociate sul petto.
Lanciò un'occhiata alle spalle di Joe e vide William, Jack e Averell, in piedi nella stessa posizione.
Sapeva di essere nei guai. L'espressione sui loro volti non prometteva nulla di buono.
Fece un passo indietro, deglutendo a fatica. mormorò, cer
Hey!So I'm just testing a few things like the author tag and some other stuff. There will be something else so don't think 'cause I'm trying to fix things I won't have time to send out a new storypart of a story. Also, just a question, would anyone read a Zoethian thing? If I can write it, I've gotten really adjusted to the persepctive of Lalnable, so writing is a little tricky. Anyways, yeah! Tell me if you'll read that and I'll see you later!
I knew you. You knew me.
Now I'm left with small traces of you in my life.
And this necklace.
My fears wash away as I hold it.
I feel like I'm in need of fixing.
I'm left with goofy grins, Red cheeks and a halved heart.
I feel lifeless.
A letter to my future selfDear me,
This came to me literally five seconds ago. But what I want out of life now, and what i get out of it later, are probably two different stories. Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay. I hope you have kids (depending on age you read this), have a loving husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend and all that shenanigans. Im writing this because who gives a fuck. All I hope is that you do read this. and that you’re not dead, or into drugs, or anything really fucked up like that… My ideal life right now is not probably what you’re living. I hope you are in Texas though. If not, I dont know what happened. Probably money, probably didnt want to upset your parents. I do that alot. Im listening to all of this by naked and famous and its getting me off track, you remember that song, Aly? or do you go by Alycia now? What do you do for work? If its my dream job (Rooster Teeth), congratulations. I hope you date someone cute in the company, then again, everyone the
15. September 2014Das Wort. Ein Wort. Ein stilles Wort im Raum. Ein Kontrast zu allem Schwarz und Weiß. Eine Nuance in allen Farben des Regenbogens schillernd, Muschelsichel, Mondnachthell, Perlmutttanz, Sand unter den Fingernägeln.
Schritte die über die Pflastersteine des vertrauten, altbekannten, fremden, ekligen Ort knirschen. Die Stadt klebt wie Kaugummi an dir.
Weißer Atem, Nebelschwaden, brennen in Auge und Nase, Rachen und mit der Zigarette zwischen den Lippen, stehend im Sandkasten, stehend am Gleis, zwischen dampfenden Zügen, stehend in der Luft. Der Rauch. Ein Moment. Rauch eingefroren in Herbstmorgen. Klirrend, zwischen zwei Fingern zerspringend. Der Moment. Dein Moment. Du. Dein Leben. Du selbst.
Spigelsplittergleich, unsichtbare Wunden reißen, blutige Narben beißen, immer zu kratzen Katzentatzen streichelnd Haut und Ohr, eisgefrorene Nadelspitzen stechen dir ins Herzeleid, einem Nadelkissen gleich, tropft es au
GeysirLocated a little north of a field full of steaming holes and boiling water, the geysir sits quietly after the last eruption, which threw many liters of boiling water almost 20 meters into the air. Now, after water has finished rushing down into the for a while seemingly bottomless hole, the geysir sits silent and still.
For a while all is quiet, and the water steams passively in the cold air. Deceptively immobile on the surface, the warmth in the ground heats the water, already nearly a hundred degrees celsuis hot, to even higher temperatures. The weight of the water on top of this superheated bubble keeps it liquid, at least for the time being.
On the surface, a few bubbles break in the still, cold air. The geysir is coming alive.
For a short while, nothing happens. Then the water suddenly rises, threatening to let out the bubble of superheated steam that is forming below. But the weight of the water is still enough to keep the geysir from erupting, and so it only breathes instead, in
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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