Things I Do When I Feel Down :cThere are times in our lives,
When we hit the all time low.
When the second-hand serenades no longer cut it,
And when simply 'letting it burn' no longer works for us.
We roll upon our beds like a roly-poly collection of rolltastic things;
And we lay face up toward the ceiling, slaying monsters on our portable consoles.
But that my friends is when inspiration strikes!
That is the moment when I rise up from the covers,
When I take a marker pen in my hand and use it as a microphone.
When my neighbours wonder what the bloody hell is going on,
Because I've started singing songs by Nightwish.
And when I get bored of that, IRON SAVIOUR,
Heavy Metal never dies!
Marylin Manson, The Beautiful People.
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Your Guardian Angel.
Because truly when I see you smile,
Though tears may not run down my face,
I would never in this world replace:
The feeling of a success, and the smile it might brings
When I entertain you, with the way I sing.
And if you've gotten
Thoughts of YouI wonder how many days I spent dreaming,
Of all the things I could never say.
And just when I'd written it all in a letter.
You showed up smiling in front me.
And all of a sudden, the letter didn't matter anymore... (^_^)
The Righteous Are LiarsThe Righteous Are Liars:
I find it funny, at times,
In this reality, of mine.
When the heroes fall and demons rise.
In the fight for freedom, filled with lies.
But such is the nature of the templar divine.
With righteous chains, they'll keep us in line.
Afraid to face the true demon he fears.
He'll punishes the public, for their rightful jeers.
And thus ends the "hero's" tale...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 3rd November 2013
This is for the UnderdogYou know what it's like,
When your feet touch the bottom.
You wish you were like others,
But you know that you can never be.
The glam and the glitz,
The sound of a thousand people cheering you on.
That's not for you,
That's never going to be for you!
But you know what,
You've got something else inside of you.
You've got something else,
That no one who sits on a lofty throne could ever have.
And that's pain...
You're in pain, because you know this is bitter.
You're in pain, because you've been denied something better.
But you take that dose of bitterness
And you swallow it like it's god-damn medicine!
Because the king expects you the crumble,
The king expects you to lie down and surrender.
So play dead if you have to,
But when you rise again...
Make sure you tear out their god-damn throat!
Chenbeard the PirateChapter 1:
I remember waking up, with the distinct metallic taste of blood swilling about my teeth. I spat a red glob of the stuff onto the stone floor and tried very hard, through the pounding of my skull, to determine why I had been left in such a poor state of affairs. Most of my memories had been jumbled up, no doubt by the violence inflicted upon me prior to my arrival. My thoughts were a nonsensical sequence of colors and sounds--most of which made no sense. I could recall several important bits and pieces though: a voice, one that was calling out for me and a warm hand, reaching toward the distance. Was that hand mine? I wondered, as the memory faded away. How exactly had I come to arrive in this place, that alone was food for thought.
My internal rumination however was soon broken by the sound of a rusted metallic gate, screeching it's lungs out as it attempted to open the way. I could not see the whining mechanism, but I could tell that it was defin
Living With A LieYou sit there shaking; emotionally frozen.
You check the time on your watch, despite knowing it already.
The ever-present numbness, the cold feeling which clutches at your soul;
That is what you feel upon the dawn of the lie.
To know its nature, to know its being;
To have it spill upon your awareness.
What words would surmise such a bitter feeling:
Perhaps the use of dejection, p
Without the IndividualWithout the Individual
Can you imagine a world, directed by a single mind?
A collective conscious, a living hive.
Each time we are born, we receive a part of it
And when we return, we share in the pool.
There would be no fear of death;
No fear of the unknown…
For a thousand souls would bolster our hearts.
We could live—truly LIVE—to the fullest extent of our capabilities.
And when we succeed?
That success returns to the hive…
That success can be shared across the next generation.
We would become an ever-evolving organism.
One with a thousand faces, but a single driving purpose.
Can you even imagine how that would feel?
But…I suppose that you can’t.
For you, as with all humans, share in a single flaw:
The nature of the individual, the ego of the singular man.
Existing in a void of his own thoughts—he has no point of reference.
He is alone, even if surrounded by other humans,
For he shall never share in their minds…
I Will Believe That You're Okay...If you tell me you're fine,
Then I won't question it.
I won't ask you about the cuts,
Or the bruises.
I'll turn a blind eye to everything...
Instead I'll ask that you join me tonight,
And maybe we'll cook ourselves a little supper.
Maybe you'd like to stay over? It'd be cool!
We'll watch a movie, play a few games.
C'mon you know how much I suck at monster hunter,
Be my wingman--er, lady tonight
And in the morning, let's go for a walk,
There's a huge park just a short distance away.
We could go on one of those nature trail things!
Hell yeah? Hell yeah!
And maybe, after you've had some time to think,
You'll see that things ain't quite as bad as you thought.
And if one day isn't enough to convince you,
Then I'm going to try again tomorrow.
Hell yeah? Hell yeah!
The Day We Died"Oh shit, oh shit! Just what the hell are those things man," yelled private Johnson, as he unloaded just over half his M-4 carbine's clip at the screaming creatures. The bent-limbed horrors were peppered with bullets, but still they continued to crawl toward the soldier and his sergeant; shrieking in a strange unintelligible language. The creatures were by no means fast; they were limited to crawling, but their large bulky arms showed no sign of weakness. It served as both a weapon and a shield, dragging the rest of their thin emaciated body along the floor.
"I suggest you duck for cover Johnson, those things will tear you apart in melee," said first-sergeant Gabriel as he placed a hand on Johnson's shoulder and ushered him behind the blockade of furniture that had been set up. The sergeant pulled the pin on an old frag grenade. One that he had found within a storage box in the facility and he held it tightly in his hands until he was sure of the distance. "
Song of RaineShe scatters the seeds with her tiny hands.
And pictures the sunset in a distant land.
She dreams of places, where she'd be free.
With clouds as far as the eyes could see.
And there she'd dance to the song of the rain,
While I would watch from my window pane.
With a smile befitting such a lovely girl;
The daughter I lost, to a cruel world...
DesperationI wonder how many days you've spent feeling lost.
Thinking that you're going somewhere.
Never actually getting anywhere.
You look at the same four walls over and over again.
You can paint them in different colours,
But you know they're still the same.
And you convince yourself that you're making progress,
Nothing's changed, but you're making progress.
Things are getting worse, but you're making progress.
And then you wake up and realise,
That shit has hit the fan...
Suddenly you're forced to do the things you couldn't,
The kind of things that you were never comfortable with.
And you find out you can do them.
You find out that the only reason you couldn't,
Was because you were afraid to try.
It's hard - trying to take that first step.
It's hard - trying to convince yourself to take that chance.
One Thousand Ghosts - Part One"Certainly, we can talk about why ghosts haunt us. That is, after all, the focus of my study." The mystic stood at the end of his workbench. His grey robes were simple and matched his long beard. Beneath his facial hair, a kind and curious smile led way to a playful face.
Another man in a dark black cloak sat at the workbench, listening. He was not youthful enough to be considered a young man, and not yet old enough to be middle aged. Dark mahogany hair and well tanned skin suggested he was from the south where the desert began. Although he wasn't a striking man, he wasn't dull, either. His grandfather always told him it was a blessing to fit in. An assassin could not be too beautiful, for he might attract unwanted attention. Although Adel appeared an average man, he was an elite assassin, from a long line of success.
"More or less how to get a living soul to
::The Truth About Guy Friends::Guy friends are the best.
Always makes you laugh
They'll stick up for you no matter what
They're fun to hang out with
No starting rumors, and will give you their jacket when you're cold
Even when you get hurt and he piggybacks you
So guy friends are the best
Until you start to like one.
Story Inspiration TitlesSometimes when words or sentences don't cut it, your biggest inspiration can come from randomly generated story titles!!
Below is a list of random story titles, either made up by me, or gotten from cool title generators around the interwebs.
I listed all the generators I used in my comments below. Check them out; they're really good!
Also, any names you see were made up on the spot. Obviously anything (names, words, etc) can be changed. This is purely for entertainment.
LET THE LISTING... BEGIN!
A Splintered Past
The Resurrection of Emily Ross
A Christian's Horror
Doubting the Fire
Journal of James
The Horror House
Brought to Life
Stuck on Sandwiches
The Silvery Ashes
Word of Memory
The Final Vision
The Voyager's Boy
The First Illusion
Emperor of Dragons
Lover in the Person
The Wild Tears
The Way's Bridge
Emerald in the Secret
The Healer's Eyes
The Darkest Man
Rainey: Spark of Insanity 1Rainey: Spark of Insanity
Fate is never as clear-cut as we are led to believe. In the realm of our imagination, good must always prevail over evil. The villains of fiction are never successful, and justice always reigns supreme. That is one of the undeniable truths that we are taught through fiction, and because of this, we grow up with ideas of balance and equality in the world. Ultimately, we are left unprepared for the harsh reality of our own existence.
Our own belief of goodness and happiness send us down the path to failure and destruction. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
My name is Doctor John Lewis Rainey, and I am a victim of Fate.
I had a dream once, to become a doctor and cure all of the worlds illnesses. My younger sister and I had put our lives into accomplishing this task. We found hope in Iris City, the town where we had planned to become doctors togethe