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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
Let People InI used to hate people so much because they're so quick to judge and betray each other. They'll say they're your friends, but then ignore you or shun you when it stops being convenient or fun for them. They use you as much as they can, and when they're done with you they all just disappear. I didn't want to have friends like that, and I thought I didn't need them. I thought that, but it wasn't right at all. I thought I was stronger, rejecting relationships and friends. But once you reject people, you're stuck. You lose the opportunity to make those connections that define your life. And when you've lost those chances, you don't get them back.
I found someone like me to share my pain with. She's still one of the most special people in my life, right up there with my dad.
Whenever you meet that person, don't turn them away.
Up until recently, that's all I've ever done. I've tried to build trusting friendships, romances... and it always comes crashing down around me. Often because of my ow
Morbid FantasiesI played it out in my head, how it would all turn out, and what would happen depending on which method would be used. It's horrible when I run out of creepypasta narrations to listen to on youtube, because then I'm alone with my thoughts. I think about things that make me sad, angry, and hurt. However, this particular thought brought along not just pure hatred, but satisfaction, and admittedly, a dose of fear.
I was invited to join my "family" for thanksgiving by my grandmother. Nice gesture, but she should already know that my roommate has work, and we have a yearly tradition of our own. Besides, I honestly do not enjoy being in the company of my "family," since I never really considered them as such, save for my brother.
But I knew in my heart, that she'd be there. Because they trust her. They would "forget to mention it" to me of course, but I know she'd be there. And I've played the scenario over and over and over in my head.
I vowed to live long enough to watch her d
Ugly.As a young child, new to the world, pure of it's intoxicating fumes, I remember a tree.
Such an ugly tree I remembered it to be.
It stood tall, creeping a good ways above any of the others, but it was disfigured in many ways.
Its branches were thin and fragile, like the bones of a sickly human, they twisted in retched ways that anyone would think should snap them clean off.
It was pale and grey, standing out among its fellow familiars, never to show the beautiful colors that it must have held within.
Its bark was edgy and course, as if it had survived through one of to many harsh winters, never falling from its place.
And I remember, as the others land succumbed to failling, giving themselves up, withering away, that tree never did.
It continued to stand tall, proud and majestic as that ugly tree could possibly seem.
It fought its way through whatever was thrown its way, fought until it could no more, never failing whatever duty it believed it needed to fulfill.
Wrong side of the mirrorI can see a woman, watching me through the glass. She is young, in her early twenties, with a haunted look about her. There is nothing especially spectacular about her, but something something quietly remarkable draws you in; captures your attention; fixes you to the spot.
Her eyes are a slate grey, intense and piercing; a dark energy smouldering in their depths. You notice that they glow a deep blue, like the ocean, when caught by the morning light, sometimes even the shade of a pale winter sky. A subtle ring of gold accents the border between her pupils and irises, which hold a faint sparkle of mischief against their black voids.
A shock of tight, red curls, messy yet somehow precise, frames her face. The sides of her hairstyle are trimmed short, not quite a mohawk; showing her natural gold-tinted brown. You could almost imagine her as one of the blond, adorable, cherub children, if not for the shadows of experience marking her features.
Beautiful is not a word that suits her, and de
We don’t know what the world has in store for us and what will happen in the future. We can make all of the plans in the world to be happy, successful, or whatever the case may be. However, with that being said, at the end of the day money is only a mirage of temporary happiness and your success in life will not carry over once you have passed. Society seems to lead you into thinking that if you’re not a big businessman, musician, doctor, lawyer, or athlete than you’re not very successful. But today, I saw firsthand that none of it really matters.
Today, I met a woman by the name of Arlene and she has touched me, without saying a word to me. For whatever reason, I felt a connection to a woman I’ve never met before today and I’ve never seen before today. She was a complete and utter stranger, yet…her story (Or lack thereof.) touched me in a way I hope I never forget.
My name is Enrique Rafael Alaniz and this is an account
Since Facebook Isn't AppropriateSince Facebook Isn’t Appropriate
And ‘cause dA is better than Facebook. If we go to your wall, I’m wishing you a happy (Insert number here ‘cause I really can’t specify) day on planet Earth. Actually, give or take a couple of those days because someone thought it was a good idea to randomly add another day. (Or maybe it wasn’t so random, but whatever, humorous effect.) But in all seriousness, if I could, I’d let everyone know how lucky I am to have you in my life and how I only want to be with you. I know we have our ups and our downs, our stale and our spontaneous moments but they’re all moments I wouldn’t give up ‘cause I have probably learned more about myself during these last 262 days than I have during the 5,943 days (Give or take ‘cause again, leap years.) I existed before you.
I hate generic birthday messages ‘cause you’re not a generic lady and I don’t think we’re a g
My HeartYou know you’re truly in love if hearing her name, even if it’s not being referred to her, fills you up with undefinable joy. You know you’re truly in love when you remember how your voice trembled when you called her and read her the letter, asking her to be your girlfriend. You know you’re truly in love if the pure thought of feeling her soft skin on yours makes you shudder with delight. You know you’re truly in love if, she’s not only the first and last thing on your mind every day, but also after every meal, every motion, every book, every song, every breath. You know you’re truly in love when 771 miles isn’t the distance you are away from each other, but rather the amount of roads, bridges, and rivers you’d cross to get to her. You know you’re truly in love if every song you hear you can connect to the overwhelming joy and the infinite sorrow she makes you feel. You know you’re truly in love when you write a story a
OJOS DE AGUA
OJOS DE AGUA
TIENES OJOS COMO EL MAR
VERDE COMO LAS ACEITUNAS TAN HERMOSOS QUE NO SE DIFERENCIAR EL COLOR, ME PIERDO EN ELLOS EN UN MAR DE MIRADAS Y PALABRAS IGNORADAS, QUE ME DICES, PREGUNTAME CUALQUIER COSA Y TE DIRE QUE SI, ANDA HAZLO, EN LA CIMA DE LA MONTAÑA VOY CANTANDO MUY FUERTE, SOBRE CUANTO TE QUIERO Y TE ANHELO QUITAR ESOS OJOS, ERES MIA Y DE NADIE MAS, RECUERDALO SIEMPRE, QUE ESOS OJOS LINDOS E INOCENTES NOTE DELATEN YA QUE PODRIA PERDER EL AMOR DE MI VIDA, LO QUE ME HACE EXISTIR, LO QUE ES MI RAZON DE VIVIR-Sara
Regret and SorrowI'm sorry for being smart
I'm sorry for being nice
I'm sorry for being gullible
I'm sorry for being dense
I'm sorry for being stupid
I'm sorry for being the same
I'm sorry for being different
I'm sorry for my mistakes
I'm sorry for being lonely
I'm sorry for loving
I'm sorry for existing
I'm sorry for being scary
I'm sorry for being a coward
I'm sorry for my smile
I'm sorry for saying sorry
I'm sorry I stand out
I'm sorry I'm invisible
I'm sorry for being blind
I'm sorry for being deaf
I'm sorry for being mean
I'm sorry for being here
I'm sorry for these letters
I'm sorry for being human
I'm sorry for being here
I'm sorry for everything
I'm sorry for being me
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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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More