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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
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
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... (^_^)
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
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. "
What's Left Behind...Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these were the treasures so close to my heart.
They are the wealth of my mind; my soul, my art.
And I could never ever leave them be,
Where another might burn them, without thinking of me...
"Apologies father, I cannot join you yet:
For in this world, a treasure still exists.
A treasure tha
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…
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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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