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LegacyI left your eyes by your bedside table darling. They're yours to collect and I am sorry for having to leave without saying goodbye, but the carriage wouldn't wait. Best not to say goodbye, it's wrong to say goodbye before ever really saying hello, but sometimes it's best not to look for buried treasure, regardless of where the crying children point.
I lie here naked, skin green and purple from sickness and violence. I have little modesty left as I watch myself grow thin, but I will fight on. That's what I was born to do, isn't it? Isn't that what you raised me to be? My hands slide over almost forgotten metal and ancient dreams, not truly knowing my own name anymore as I find myself asking which one is the shadow and which one can only be seen with five hands underwater. My muscles twitch each time you get too close, for you are everything I could ever hope for and everything I can never have. I'd kill you, but only after destroying you.
I see the corridor of Angels again, but through
Stop the truth from leaking.Fake a smile. Just once. Would you kill me if I said it would make my day? Some things are better left unsaid or denied, even to you my love. Brown and silver are not my normal colours of choice, but you seem to be breaking alot of my rules. I'd pierce my tongue to stop you coming any closer, though I'd whisper a riddle to make you wonder. I can see myself in your beautiful eyes, hesitant and unsure of how to act around you. I will not take up the makeup, for then I will be left without a face. Would you love me if I was nameless and faceless? I'd be little more than a shadow.
I see them dancing on the floor again as I begin to fear for the future. 'I am not I, therefore you might not be you'. A lesson I cannot forget, but it warns me that I cannot fully trust you since I am also lying. The truth would devastate you my love, you see me how you want to see me and I cannot bring myself to shatter the illusion that I am less than a toy boat and a glass bottle. Careful, I break easily- han
The Wind on the Water.If I lie still for long enough, I can feel the wind on the water brushing past my face. The sunlight has long since burnt out my eyes, but no matter. I have learnt to see you in fleeting dreams and raindrops in the moonlight. Most importantly, I see you in my reflection. Through a ray of violet light, I can almost feel you near me when I touch the surface of the water. Silence. Am I still breathing? It's so peaceful here. If you could find me an ocean in a bottle, I'd bring you to me and we'd sail away around the glass.
Although such a thing can never be, I still smile under the rushes whenever I think of you. You are happy as you are, on land, still breathing. I won't interfere. Yet you remain one of the only people to have noticed my body floating in the water. You cared that much. That is all I ask for.
How long have I been here? I broke your ribs and your arms, even erased bits of your memory. This is revenge, nay justice as the Nameless would see it dealt. I close my eyes as the s
Another Hundred PeopleChatter. I hear my name mentioned a thousand times a day, but I am never truly sure if it is to me or at me. There isn't much of a difference anymore. You aren't listening and I have already forgotten your name. I'd forget mine too if I didn't hear it so often. Nowadays I just want to blow out the candles. Shhhh. Happy Birthday my love. We'll celebrate together in peace one day. Maybe then they'd leave us alone. I only want to talk to the people who I needn't say a word too. Don't make a sound. They just know. You just know. I just know. Subtlety is finest in the glint of an eye.
I heard they found the invisible man, which is a shame really since he didn't want the attention. We enjoy being cellophane, for we are the Nameless. This much attention is not in our nature. We like to watch from shadowing sunsets, long tall and hunched. We ask for little more, only to be remembered. It is important we are not forgotten, as you are only truly dead when no one alive remembers you.
I miss my Su
Waking subconcious.I am always tired. My recent transformation confirms my previous musing of I am not I, therefore you might not be you. I am not Roulin and neither are you, but someone has to be. Everyone has to be something. These new, clean walls intrigue me, for I am not used to the light. Light is love. I have become love. Love is light. Violet light would consume me were I fictional. Instead, I simply enjoy the sights I do not recognise, for there are no ghosts where there are no memories. I can still hear them though and they call to me and calm me as they have always tried to do. I cherish the little comfort I can take from this and notate each blue and green flightpath as you would have me do. I strike out each horror with a matchstick, just to watch them curl up and fade.
You brought me peace and hope. I know so many who will never understand either of these things. The truth is I pity those who do not understand what hope is. To hope is to seek comfort and there is nothing wrong with that. Th
A night with HazeFox Black is busy tonight, too busy to keep an eye on Haze. The media are looking for the bounty hunter 'Smokescreen', too busy and too stupid to realize that she is Haze. Haze slips out of her apartment window as she often does at midnight, dark glasses and painter mask hiding her face from unwelcome eyes. Gliding down, Jetta, her prize sword sings to her.
"Leave a mark, never forgetting," She sings from her harness.
Haze stays silent. Within seconds she is on the roof of the hospital only half a mile from her apartment and she knows her prey is inside. He calls himself messiah but she knows he is not. The masses and media follow like the brainless morons they are. False Idol!
"If there is to be a neo Christ, it is not the son of vanity." Fox had said bluntly. Haze knew Fox would be furious when she found out. Bah, she can deal with Fox Black later, this was more important. She slides inside a balcony window and recognizes the well groomed face of Alec Zebros, the man who calls himsel
Vigilante.City lights crossfade with the morning sun. I have been watching the city from the top of the hill all night and yet I am still not satisfied. Gentle ticking and soft hush of blurred human voices are the only music I listen to all night, even if silence is my only peace. The odd whisper of prayer can be heard above the horrid screams of the children haunted by nightmares that even I cannot calm. Those who still pray to a God rely on hope, precious hope. I am not one of them. Hope is useless on it's own. I have seen too much, came back from living in sweet dreams though I was told I would be broken for ever. Yet I am alive and have been given the duty to fly through the skies of those who are in danger of being lost.
Lost.. let human minds wander too far into what they do not understand and the rest will deem it as nonsense. Once the spoken word was enough but distrust has built even further with advances in technology and now we must prove the unprovable to further accepted knowledge.
Accept mutilations for art.Look at me. This is a comfort to me since I can no longer look at you. I am almost blind and yet I see the night. Quiet! do not disturb. The children sleep and in some way I wish I was their mother. Could I offer them what I never was? I wish I was a child. Peaceful. Hypnotized. Ignorant. Happy. Nectar shouldn't be so sweet, tangy and fulfilling. I have come this far only to learn that the fools are in bliss. They have no need for nectar. These idiots who parade around worrying about the world they will never even leave a dent upon, not a scratch. Hush children, keep the silence. You do not need to speak we will understand your every gesture by counting the drip, drip, drips of the of the nectar flowing from the knife edge.
This clock is broken. It no longer ticks. No more breathing. Still. It sounds so wonderful now but you have a role to play now don't you? Yes, Guardian once again I am addressing you. Like it or not you must go through with this even though you and I both know you h
A moment of retrospect.Each time you turn you see a thousand masqueraders taunting you. You're used to it by now of course. Can you see me dancing? I forget sometimes you don't recognise me anymore. It's okay, I'll pretend to be invisible just for you. We left this behind a long time ago, but if it's worth anything I think of you now and then and wonder what kind of person you are now. Through torn memories I know you must have been special because I wrote you a song once, but the words have been torn out of my skull. There was something about violet flowers, flowers if only to match your name. I think we may never talk again, but that doesn't bother me. I wonder why you have done this to yourself, you were so beautiful. Perhaps to you this is beautiful? Nay, I preferred you then. We have both moved on to dance with new, much more skilled partners, but I'll look back at you from time to time. I'd like to think you look back too, to see if i'm there, to see if you could try to kill me.
I'd be wrong. My name i
I Dream About HerI dream about her, quite often, actually. It's been nearly two and a half years since I've seen her face to face, and it truly does break my heart when I remember the good times. She was one of my best friends, one of the greatest influences in my life, and someone who could make me smile. However, all good things must come to an end eventually.
Drugs don't just affect you, they affect your friends. When you've been roped into the bad crowd and refuse to turn to the people who love you most, you're going to lose everything you care about. Well, I cared for her, alright. We were nearly as inseparable as Sempai and I, hanging out nearly 24/7. Sure, there were fights, but every friend has a fight. It's when the line is drawn that things get messy.
In my dreams, I remember how she used to be, how fun she was, how silly she acted, and how she was just pleasant to have around. What happened? Why did she decide to go the way she went? To turn to lying, drug abusing, and overall not caring for
One last time. KristaXReaderFor music please listen
Highly recommended after the game scene though
"Two Kings!” Krista piped laying the cards on in the pot laying on my lap. She sat cross legged on the hospital bed with me. Sitting up straight and laid her cards face down in her lap leaning forward, now were both now down to one card. you looked up from my last card and glared at her. For such an innocent girl she had one hell of a poker face. you swallowed the lump in my throat and laid down my last card.
“One Ace.” you stated and crossed my arms challenging her to say it.
‘that’s it! the cat’s in the-’
“Bullshit!” She called out and flipped over the card that had just laid down….a queen,.
“Damn it Krista!” you shouted smacking the pile off my lap then pouted indignantly.
"Can't you just let me win for once." I asked. Krista giggled an
How to love a guy who can't love himself.How to love a guy who really doesn’t love himself.
Well first, there are numerous ways you can do this, so just sit back and listen.
Number one rule, tell him to drop his façade, abandon the stereotypes that society places upon him, find the real him, the core, so fragile and so easily able to be hurt.
When you find the real him, who he really is, then look him in the eyes, past all that buff, and all of that strength and mutter a few simple words. ‘It’s okay to cry.’ And when he cries, when he falls to his knees and allows his body to tremble for the first time in decades, you put your hands on his shoulders and say, ‘Everything will be fine’.
And when he looks up at you, with tears in his eyes, shaking out of either shame or anger, you just smile at him, and say ‘No’, not because he’s crying but because you know he’s threatening to close himself off again to the world, and put on that face that he fe
.things i've learned in
the last few months:
-friends are expendable.
-so is sanity.
-you can like girls and boys
and neither and either.
-it is possible to
exist while half your soul
is jutting out of your body.
-change does not help
-you can't bring back the dead.
-but you can hold the dead in your
arms when their eyes won't close.
-and when you make pacts with god,
remember that you're still upholding
so many promises with him in the first place.
-you're not suicidal, just human.
-maybe just a little less human than
-devaluing people doesn't
help your social anxiety.
-you can't run away from job
opportunities just because
you think a colleague is whispering about you.
-but you do get a choice on which job to take.
-and no, you're not so worthless that you have
to settle for a job you know you'll hate.
-and you do have a right to be paranoid.
-you don't have to write your sister.
CycleI reserve the option to be emotionally born, play, grow old, and die at last once every decade--perhaps every year, month, week, or day.
--J. Shidler 2014-04-06
RainAs the electric arc sizzles away like frying bacon, two pieces of steel are fused together into one mechanical mass. Its Thursday night, and for us its the last night of the work week. Weekend ahead, money in our pocket, endless possibilities.
But for now, there are 36" mower decks to run. Bright light on a dark night, smoke and sparks, and 8 hours of staring into a false star. The shop is filled with a light yellow haze, it drifts through the air like a ghost as we work away the hours till dawn.
It is warmer than previous nights, winter is coming to an end and spring begins. Its raining!
Not snowing, not hail, not ice that clings to all things, but the continual 'tap, tap, tap' of heavy rain, almost like the distant roar of a forgotten army.
Sparks fly and fill the night, the haze is stifling, creeping behind helmet and vale. Another hand crafted product is born, and ready for processing, on to the paint line and the day crew.
A hot steel plate that will be painted black, built up wit
You and I are just the same...
Through glazed plastic eyes I stare, a soft smile sewn onto my lips.
"You're my best friend!" the girl across from me smiles, giggling gleefully as she does.
"You're mine too..." I respond with warmth in my unspoken words.
She brings me close, hugging me to her chest, as she spins in a circle. Then after she holds my hand and brings me wherever she goes.It always starts like that, so gentle and innocent. Slowly, it grows as she starts to reveal her secrets to you. Crushes she has, wishes for things that she wants. You'd think this was an unbreakable bond. But then, they begin to grow distant. Their warmth leaves and you're left in a cold corner, forgotten.
They may come to visit you every now and then, but it's never for very long and soon enough it's they simply don't return. In years they may find you and look you over. They find you dusty, your eyes are scratched and the paint is faded.
"I remember y
Can I Just Say I Love You?Well… um… hello there. I didn't think you'd actually read this, but here goes nothing. So I sorta… you know… love you. Yea, I know it's strange to think about. Me of all people too. I just can't help be die a little inside when you say hi to me and walk to her. You know? I just kinda get a little jealous, but I'm too afraid to tell you I love you. So I wrote this note, hoping you'd read it somehow. So, why don't you just tell me you fell the same way? It would be wonderful to hear again. I know you are a little confused and I know this is strange. I'm not good a writing sonnets and I can't look at you in the eye except when I want you to see that I love you. So next time I see you, I'll look you in the eye. Then you'll know I mean it. Because I do. So, I hope I'll get a message from you or bump into you at the store.
Round and round the garden..Sing to me and hold me until I go to sleep. That's a test of loyalty if ever there was one, for I am gathering dust upon layers of false chintzy cheeriness and glittery clothes. Look at me. To you I will always be that child, but to her I am that shadow whose name she can't quite remember, but does it matter? Green and purple became me, but I look at you and see nothing but a vorpal grin. Tick-tock, tick-tock! We are shadow people now, you and I. They will soon forget us and soon pass us by in the street, unsure if we were ever acquainted. I'm only 5 years old, or so they keep telling me. I'll clap my hands and giggle as we slowly tear the skin off of each others faces, because it's nothing more than a game and we'll be home in time for tea. Don't worry, we'll burn the photographs- just in case. History is there to be rewritten, isn't it darling?
The first Roulin stays strong in my dreams. Wherever I go, I see her face and I am unable to rest. She is no longer Mother, figure I bow down
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More