Skin Deep [Full]Skin Deep
Disorder"What do you do?
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Dream QuestDream QuestDream Quest by Michel-le-fou
A man’s dream of Leng
Who can ever say where we go or what we do in our dreams? We only witness them. And some may believe what we tell them, but others remain skeptical till the end.
Thus I lay in deep slumber from eleven pm until two am. The thoughts of daily life wafted through my conscious mind like dull white clouds across the azure sky until my mind lay empty. I had learned of this from a Tibetan monk living in the edge of my city. The rest was experience. The emptiness took about one hour. Then I finally drifted asleep.
Initial dreams were mundane in nature. They disclosed my relationships and encounters with various types, some of whom I doubted their humanity. Others were distinctly human and I had enjoyed a refreshing experience.
After dreaming once or twice if these encounters, I finally drifted into deep slumber and then the dream worlds changed sharply. Perchance I was subconsciously affected by stories by fellow dreamer Randolph Carter. Soon enough
Like QuicksandLike QuicksandLike Quicksand by Michel-le-fou
I am lost in the woods of doubt
I am, as always, alone
And my limbs are sinking
In the depression
Loneliness gags me
I drop weary upon my bed
Then I find my rescuer
Lying there softly
And I am in her clearing
That Man of Mine, by PuabiThat Man of MineThat Man of Mine, by Puabi by Michel-le-fou
Well I was only twenty
When I sat on my throne
I watched them build my palace
Stone by stone
Then I ascended
But I was so alone
Oh I saw the whole sad story
These eyes weren't blind
But where in my kingdom
Would I ever find
A man like that man of mine?
They say fish have to swim
And birds have to fly
But not one of them wants to be alone
When their time comes to die
People of my time followed nature
You can understand why
So where in my kingdom
Would I find
A man like that man of mine?
He's here beside me day and night
He kisses me sweetly and holds me tight
As long as he's near me, everything is right
And he vows his love time after time
I just got to love that man of mine
Farewell, World!Farewell, WorldFarewell, World! by Michel-le-fou
Since my adolescence, I have felt that I did not belong to this mundane world or its dull people. But I'm stuck in it. Once, in my first years in Bangkok, I dreamed of the interior of a spaceship. Then I woke up.
I may not be the only one who wants to leave.
In December, a man of my age in a remote city dreamed of being taken away by aliens. It was not the usual reported alien abduction. He wanted to leave. So many nights he had dreamed of other lands and even other planets; but he knew only two in our system can support us: Mars and Venus. They have surfaces like our earth.
Like me, he began by dreaming of the craft exterior. Then he dreamed of the interior. There were flashing lights and electronic devices that our aircraft later would use. But the pilot was, or seemed to be, absent. Nonetheless, the craft was moving. He was calm and concealed his excitement. He was leaving earth behind.
He awoke the next morning at usual time and went about his tasks, feeling differe
Only youAnother day passes slowlyOnly you by MorganWolfram
Life keeps on fading quietly
My years have been spend worthlessly
With no feeling fraternity
I walk my way solemnly
Make my path formally
All eyes lay on me respectfully
I'm treated like the great solely
But I owe them back disgracefully
I put them aside disdainfully
I whip my worries mercilessly
I am a powerful weapon ultimately
But my bullets are stunned by you so suddenly
Your Kindness shoed away my troubles so charmingly
You helped me upon my feet willingly
You expected nothing back unconditionally
From that moment my mind was on you individually
Even with all the fuss; you smile caringly
Pain was caused and you suffered sensitively
But you said regrets will go gradually
I don't care if there is no money surprisingly
You changed me astonishingly
I won't let a burden fall on you, even mistakenly
How can you be so gentle admiringly?
Don't hesitate to hold my hand tightly
But please keep smiling constantly
My eyes shall remain for you promisingly
I shall love
Scorched 1.1The moment the train stopped, she rushed out of her seat, ran out of the door, pushed her way through the morning crowd, and sprinted to the University. It was just her luck that her train broke down the day of an important exam. She wound up taking a different train which came later than its arrival time. Her eyes were fixed on her watch and her hand was securely on her book bag.Scorched 1.1 by Erin-Lynne
"What happened this time?" the receptionist asked Prishe as the Asterian burst through the doors of the University. She didn't look up from the desk but Prishe could hear the shuffling of papers as if she was reaching for something.
The young Asterian laughed uneasily and signed in. "The train broke down. I can't talk; I've got to get to class!" she replied, darting down the hall.
She took the stairs, figuring that they would be faster, but was quickly flooded by students. She was determined, however. She had never been late before and she wasn't about to start. Not caring who she plowed by, she continued tak
Scorched P.1She woke abruptly to the beginning of her favorite song—a loud, energetic low-brass song—and fell out the chair of her desk. She hit her head on the side of her bed and had knocked over several sheets of paper which were now littered around her. A groan passed her lips as she removed her headphones. The light in the room made her eyes sting until they adjusted. Her blueprints, essays, and medicine homework were on top of her bare legs, making her nerves tingle.Scorched P.1 by Erin-Lynne
After sitting in the odd position for a while, she took a glance at her watch. It was going to be a couple of hours before her regular alarm would go off. She sighed, stiffly collected her work, set them aside, and got up. Every muscle in her back and legs were screaming at her, but she paid little attention to it as she yawned and stretched.
She sat on her bed next to her work and stared at the walls for a while, collecting her thoughts. She would have classes today, and her work needed to be done, That way she woul
Rise of JERICO-- ProloguePrologueRise of JERICO-- Prologue by Erin-Lynne
The room was silent as he sat there, reading his book intently. A few candles were lit around the room, casting an eerie shadow across the figure. Two years he had spent in solitude, never leaving his mansion, since the end of the of the war. He rarely came in contact with people, unless it was one of the AMBROS prisoners that needed to be punished. Everyone who knew of him feared him; he treated none with mercy.
His name was Viare.
Lightning flashed outside as the rain began to patter on his window. He put his book down when he heard a metal ping of a kicked gate outside. He stood to his feet and looked outside his window to see a man with soaked, fiery red hair jump off the barrier gate. Viare curled a slight smile on his face. “Again? When will he learn?” he murmured to himself. He turned from the window and left his room.
The guards were startled by his presence. “Send the hounds. It seems our guest hasn’t been broken in. Bring him back
Shroomy and her Melancholy state of AffairsForward from this: http://hebbybobdige.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d5hapii sceneShroomy and her Melancholy state of Affairs by Hebbybobdige
Okay let's discuss Shroomy and her completely un-endearing un-cheerful and un-attractive state of affairs. Firstly you must realise that Shroomy's life was far more dismal than most. Those at her school find her (in their own words) a 'skanky, ugly, creepy little bug-eyed weirdo'
You see when somebody isn't what you would consider 'normal' people have a tendency to ridicule or be afraid of this person. Shroomy being no exception to this, she would spend her time at school sat alone on a table muttering strange things to her only friend who was named 'Scarlett' and she could be seen only by Shroomy. Whilst the rest of the class formed their own, chattery little groups consisting mainly of people who would consider a scruffy, bug-eyed girl constantly whispering scary things to herself a strange sight indeed, therefore nobody wanted to talk to her.
You may or may not know that somebody who exists in
.photographs of me..photographs of me..photographs of me. by Amanda-Graham
There’s smoke still hanging in the air; lurking low and white, like a Frisco fog but thicker ‘cept where the air blows it in long stringy threads like sour milk drifting in the sink water. It’s a throw-away zone thing. It stinks of oil and sulfur and hot tar bubbling in summer; ‘cept it ain’t summer. You’d think that stuff that burnt in winter would smell like the sides of Cali cliffs in flame wouldn’t ya? Doesn’t though. There’s no incense scent to it. No tight wound drift of pot, or myrrh or pretty pine Christmas trees piled up and flaming after collection. It’s a seething slurry of bad industry burning.
People are standing round in twos and threes watching it as little ash whirlwinds dance spirals in the heat that's still hanging onto hot spots. It’s warm enough now, just above 0 degrees C, that the water they’d pumped is wet on charred
.hey lover - how are you tonight?..hey lover - how are you tonight?..hey lover - how are you tonight?. by Amanda-Graham
… take any story, yours perhaps, let’s take yours. Take your unwinding story and surrender all meanings you wish upon it; any meanings, and just retaining those body feelings attached to the smallest sequences. Don’t let your mind put a history to it, or time-stamp, or causes, considerations. Just a huge tumble of images and emotions, vignettes; a pile of colored individually wrapped tooth immune hard candies. Sucking and clattering them against your small teeth.
That’s your life there on the table, that growing pile of shiny-metallic foil wrapped events. Now stir it and lift them out singly, randomly; opening each, one at a time. Again, no ego and so no “Oh I remember this and what came before and after” just the one isolated flavor, hallucinogenic, a convulsive vision, a fever delusion with you floating in it; experiencing it all with every detail down to the
Thoughts during a bus ride at nightBlack.Thoughts during a bus ride at night by AlilliceMFC
Is this me?
Am I myself?
Or am I
the black figure
the mirror shows me?
All those people are black.
Am I one of them?
A cat runs by.
I couldn't disappoint.
who couldn't hate me.
There's the void again.
The void has no end.
Through My Dusty WindowsThrough my dusty windowsThrough My Dusty Windows by AlilliceMFC
I see the shadows dance by;
But I'll stay home,
for I don't belong.
Through my dusty windows
I see the seasons pass by;
But soon everything's gone.
Way too soon.
Through my dusty windows
I see the stars shine bright;
Casting light into me,
Twinkling without sorrow,
Far away dreams.
But then the sun pushes them aside,
So bright that I am blinded.
In my broken house
I sit and watch
It all go by
And I can't move.
Sometimes I wish to get out
But then I realize
That it'd shatter my soul.
. rail .. rail .. rail . by Amanda-Graham
It’s a misnomer; an absent appliance, robbery of the worse sort. The bar’s not got one though named as though it would hold some premiere placement. In this city it should be gleaming brass and a minimum of two inches in diameter, rolled and shaped and bracketed along the styles and sheathing of a gleaming dark-polished wooden front-piece. It should be history. Misapplication and misdirection; the crumbling edifice is still maintained but slovenly; some miscreant remembrance of the sixties or seventies when people still believed a Jetsons™ future were possible. It carries its appellation based solely on location; nearby is a stop on the city’s trumpeted transport line, the “L".
“Fuck this Susan.” “Give it a chance.” “Really?” “Yeah, it’s not awful and some of the guys here are just too sweet.” I turn and stare openly,
Mommy loved...Alright, we're going to go visit Mommy.Mommy loved... by Everlasting90
Why are we going?
Because it would mean a lot to her. She loved you.
No, she didn't.
How can you say that?
Because it's true. If she loved us, she wouldn't have left us.
That's not fair. She had a problem. She tried to give it up.
But she didn't. She loved the pills more than us. That's why she left.
OG's of OlympusFADE IN:OG's of Olympus by StevenGilby
Cars are driving through the busy streets. One guy, Marcus, stands on the cold street corner smoking a cigarette in an open frenzy. Another guy, Dorian, comes running across the crosswalk as the light ticks to red. He’s calm but his nose and cheeks are red from the cold.
Lemme bum a smoke. You got a flask? Mine’s empty.
Marcus holds an open pack and lighter in one hand for Dorian. After putting them away, he grabs a flask of blueberry sherry from his inner coat pocket and hands it to him. It has a two crossed broadswords on it.
Chilly as hell today.
Dorian looks around after a silent moment smoking, not seeing what he wanted to.
Where’s EDDIE at? I told him 3 o’clock. It’s almost 5. Is he ever on time for anything?!
Well, I got good news, better news, and bad news.
Dorian is visibly irate at the existence of bad news.
Start with the good, move to
Thumb On The Mob (Part 1) Amongst the light foot falls of officers going about their tasks, one set stood out as it sounded louder through the precinct, heading from the entrance over to the holding cells. The man to whom these foot falls belonged was tall; about six-four, and thin; not lanky, but like a bean-pole. His black slacks danced on the top of his black shoes, his dark-blue tie wriggled ever so slightly under the slight heaving of the man’s chest, but his bluish-gray waistcoat held it to his faded sky-blue shirt.Thumb On The Mob (Part 1) by BDancinJones
The man slowed himself down, actually stopping to tap his slightly damp forehead with his sleeve, before turning the last corner into the viewing side of the interrogation room. He proceeded to enter the room, and did so with a certain swagger in his walk and a sly smile sitting in the corner of his mouth. In the room stood a mid-twenties woman in work-place formal dress and an early-thirties officer in uniform. On the left wa
. rocket science .. rocket science .. rocket science . by Amanda-Graham
... with her, love was rocket science after all ...
... the only moments in which our eyes met, locked, and looked steadily was when we fucked; that's Asperger's with both of us ...
... "drive out in the desert and meet me, i'm waiting, i'm wet” ...
... photos of her gate in that small place on the hillside, her garden, a squirrel, the surf where she always belonged ...
... her in the clubs, library, avoiding passing people, staring at the sidewalks, cars, windows, wishing she were back in Paris again ...
... whispering in French to each other, she would laugh and i would tickle, my French was so awful ...
... unlike any other she kept me abreast of her days, fully informed, i felt safe in her arms ...
... still so many stubs of her and i, small notes kept safe from travel, tucked here and there so that now i find her over and over ...
a note in a margin
small tattered fabric
pressed flower she'd pl
.it was just a name after all..it was just a name after all..it was just a name after all. by Amanda-Graham
To be obsessed with someone who is negligent at best … is that search for satisfying the insatiable the reason for this place? Is it why I always remain? A revenant with such violent demands and capabilities my body could never sustain? Which of us is truly the psychotic spirit obsessed?
Psychic or physical – I impose impacts paranormal. Let me in. Picking your single voice from this hiss white noise, fading in and then back out in clarity; you singing with that soft drawl; your songs of loneliness. Is it just bait laid to entrap? Do you dwell in life so deeply longing that I’m on your breath? Move in with me to this space of emptiness that I possess, that is what my heart pumps cold and damp, parched and longing, starved and demanding I’ll thump your walls and taste your hungers. Surrender, but retain your strength, yield to pleasures the human only drips in ink; t
. tentative .. tentative .. tentative . by Amanda-Graham
I, in duplicate, reply.
"How are you?"
in reply i
"to make this easy; I'm fine."
out for snack
"Nice to see you again."
"Ja, you look good."
minimal, she's beautiful
takes a while
"That your hand?"
hoping she's oblivious
off key first
mezzo alto joined
defining love as
we’ll be fine
© Amanda 2014
Image: "whispers" by :iconbeyondimpression: © 2014
. women only .. women only .. women only . by Amanda-Graham
.one of those days.
'tried it all's
as first thoughts
fallin like stars
hard flamin rocks
. and .
she was the trickery
of the leading 'and'
that tugs on the line
that signals your mind
will fill in her blanks
. la Résistance .
you didn’t want to know
looking in the mirror
walking in public
exposed for what you now are
no longer secret
no longer spared
face to face with it
still in denial
your body hates you
more than you ever
too long a coward
. women only .
A nice room where we gather, there’s a view of the narrow parking lot and the shrubs and mums are well
The 89th Hunger Games Chapter 1 Part 1The 89th Hunger Games Chapter 1 Part 1 by Ooakfeather
The Reaping will be tomorrow. Everyone in District Four is trying their hardest to keep their minds off of it by indulging themselves in hard work at the oceans. Instead of working and moving around, I find myself sitting in the sand, soundlessly watching as the people nearby knot fishnets. I won't have much to worry about this year. My twin brothers are only eleven, so they won't have to enter the Reaping until next year. I'm only fourteen, and with the three members of my family, I do have to take tesserae, but luckily, it's only in twelve times. I shouldn't be as worried as much as others, but I find that I actually am. The thought of it is frightening. I can hardly handle a spear, killing a fish is mighty easy... But a human being?
I look up from my thoughts and find Annie Odair walking on the beach with her fourteen year old son, Finn. I'm not exactly sure why, but in District Four, we find them to be lege
The 89th Hunger Games Chapter 1 Part 2The 89th Hunger Games Chapter 1 Part 2 by Ooakfeather
The morning felt short, and worry was setting back in my mind. We made our beds back, and I got ready in my turquoise dress. Mother put up my hair in a ponytail, and set the bow perfectly. I am ready. The happiness from last night is gone, and I walk out of the house with my brothers and mother, hand in hand. We take the path to the town square, as well as the rest of our District, walking in rows as a family. Either teary eyed or shaking, trying to hold back the tears. Trying to think that their own family will stay whole another year.... But the hope is lost to us. Both of my brothers are shaking, and I can tell by the grim face on my mother, she isn't doing well either. I try to keep a firm hold on myself, making sure to try and stay calm and settled so not to worry them, but it's a very difficult task to accomplish.
When it's time for us to part ways, I give each of them a kiss on the cheek, and whisp
.-.Silence.-. [Scourge X Reader]私の愛の沈黙は沈黙を守ってたことがないはずです。.-.Silence.-. [Scourge X Reader] by galewings
keep in mind that this takes place after World War ll
The deep laughter of crows reached the peaks of the sky, giving the battered place some hiff of it's silence. Vultures snickered and cackled amongst their grubby meal of a rabbit carcass, their skin-bared heads making quick movements as their battered beaks snipped and poked at the motionless body. The dead rabbit's fur was wet, covered in blood and the vulture's saliva. The mice that flees amongst the worn town sniffed, peeped, and stuck their tongues out at the vulture's careless work of a meal. Even though they were cute, yet disease-filled on their part, the black cat had to agree, the mice were right on being disgusted of the vulture's filling.
Scourge knocked a rusted can over to the side carelessly has his ov
Flight of the EagleIt was the last week of university. Classes were complete, exams were taken. It was the time for the students to find a job. Lucy sighed as she perused the job choices. None of job offerings appealed to her. She didn't want to be stuck behind the desk; she wanted to be out and about. Adventure and action were her calling. She logged out off the computer and got up.Flight of the Eagle by tyw7
Maybe I needed a breather. Time to cool my head. Lucy thought.
She headed to the wardrobe. She grabbed a towel and disrobed. Although age has filled her in considerably since her stick figure days, Lucy wasn't particularly curvaceous. In fact she was stronger than most typical girls (or boys). She was sure she could take even the strongest bullies in a fist fight and win.
Staring at the mirror, she could see faint scars that covered her face. She paused at the one that under her left eye. The same mark that she had sustained when monst
The Riddler's WoodUlureia trotted silently through the dense woodland which ran parallel to the blighted Barrens, a scorched patch of earth extinguished of shimmering beauty and life through years of magical and conventional warfare. The centaur youth exited her home at the tearful embrace of her sickly mother, who pleaded for her to remain vigilant and safe. It was the war over the Barrens, after all, that took the life of her father and many of her kind.The Riddler's Wood by thwackcrackers
Now, Ulureia was the last vanguard of her bloodline, a single ember of light burning in a dark world. Her ailing mother, who kept to the home while she was away, fell victim to the Goblin Rash; a malignant virus which seeped out of the devastated Barrens. Green rashes and splotches of hideous black marred her figure. Her bones fell feeble and her once vibrant heart seemed to be siphoned by the illness.
Ulureia could only pray for a quick death for her mother. No manner of magic of elixirs could cure this newly bred infection. A wet tear st
The Pit Fiend of the NessusGrayson poised himself proudly at the far corner of the circular arena. Pits of lava lined the exterior and the painful harrowing of demons fed through the many corridors leading into the battleground from where he stood. Across from him, his malice-driven, snake-bodied opponent slithered back and forth, eyeing him with those glittering, otherworldly eyes. Even under her soulless gaze, Grayson knew that even mariliths bled; even mariliths could be killed.The Pit Fiend of the Nessus by thwackcrackers
Her six arms hoisted an array of serrated, demonic weapons which vied to cleave, bludgeon, and gut him limb from limb. Her sinuously long and armored snake-like tail slid rather elegantly along the blood stained metal arena floor. Grayson patted himself down, a habitual examination he did before every fight. His obsidian-red plate armor moved with unmatched balance and grace. He smiled to himself, knowing he wasn't sacrificing protection for the sake of agility unlike his rival.
To the side of both combatants sat a mighty throne
The Prince Ch. 1The Prince Ch. 1 by Everlasting90
Some time ago, there was a young prince. He was the fourth child out of five. He was a shy but kind boy, and many loved him. As the prince grew up, he discovered he possessed power, mystical gifts that allowed him to influence the elements of Nature and communicate with the animals. Despite the wonder and beauty of his abilities, he kept them secret. This secret led the prince to be reclusive from his family and the human world.
The Prince and the Maiden Ch. 2One day, while the prince was with his animal companions, he met a maiden. While wary of her at first, he discovered that she was like him, gifted and powerful. They began to meet each other in the forest and over time became the best of friends. In their Eden, they played with the animals and their gifts, and confided in each other. But while the Sun shined brightly over their mutual world, darkness began to reign over their respective homes.The Prince and the Maiden Ch. 2 by Everlasting90
Division materialize in dark and deadly forms and broke their families apart. Despite this, the prince and the maiden found great support in their companionship. They vowed that nothing would break them apart. But the world of the Unseen and crossed stars fought to destroy this promise.
CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 6CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 6 by HewhoDrawsALOT
BETWEEN THE WORLD SEAMS
The boy was resting, high on top of the grand wall that kept the wilds at bay. The sun had disappeared with the westward rotation, and its sky blue blanket was dragged along behind it. In the absence of the day’s light, the nocturnal shadow had cast its own veil. Darkness would creep out to fill the nightly voids, but it was not wholly free during this recess. The moon served as its glowing warden. Vinced’s lunar gaze had been blessed with the ability to cut through black, but they were mere candles in the wake of this celestial keeper. As he looked out from his roost, on top of the colossal divide, he was able to see by the light of night’s glowing orb. From his venue, Vinced found that the wall abided by its sole charge. Lying right on top of it, he sat on the very line of two worlds: the city of man, and the wilds of nature. But this was not the only rim that the boy found himself balancing on. Because of the wall
CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 5CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 5 by HewhoDrawsALOT
TAKE ROOT AND BOND
The sky was a blanket of golden dusk. Through the veil of blending orange and yellow birds were fluttering in a crisscross as they made their way home. Singing their evening songs, all who had taken the peaceful tour to their refuge were allowed to enjoy it. Walking within the resident area he had woken up by, Vinced saw that things were different during the sunset. As opposed to the stillness of the morning dew, little people had begun to emerge from their dens and cause their own little ruckus. Mounted on tricycles and bikes, scooters and skates, the kids road in circles while others chased one another in good fun. A few animal kin couldn’t help but join in. Small dogs and puppies, woofing their tiny woofs, were the most prevalent. Pattering along on their stumpy legs, the balls of fluff pursued their owners unbothered by the notion that they would never catch them. Even so, when they did, the rambunctious li
CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 4CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 4 by HewhoDrawsALOT
A while after Niomi darted off, Vinced departed from her tree and began to walk toward the city. By venturing through the woods that gapped the modest neighborhoods, traversing the increasing number of roads, and cutting through the highway break offs, Vinced made it to the living heart. On his way there however, the boy took note of the gradual shift in foundation. The vast sea of grass and trees had been more then pushed aside. They had been deliberately buried. However, this was not done merely in the name of modernization. Near the city, where the ground had been left naked, the lush green had begun to transform into a scarred yellow or an ashen brown. These drearies were only apparent in the back alleys of the dusty ghettos, but the intent was clear. Hide the wounds in hopes of forgetting the pain.
Unseemly craters of the past aside, most places were made to sparkle. The center, where Vinced found himself, was such a place. The sapphire
CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 3CONFLICT: Act 1 Chapter 3 by HewhoDrawsALOT
“ Umm…Excuse me,” the girl jittered. The red in her face was beginning to drain as she had begun to rain in any emotions still in a flurry.
The boy jumped at the sound of her voice. His shoulders then pinned themselves up as his neck sunk into the valley between them. He peaked over the pensive ridge of his shoulders, hiding the tightness of his jaw as well as the twisted anxiety splattered on the whole of his expression.
She had turned to face him and left herself exposed in comparison. Where she could only see the cutting edge of his moonlight eyes, she allowed him to look upon the fading filler of blush still on her cheeks in addition to the brightness of her gaze. Not at all bothered by the disadvantage, but still a little spooked by the void of his pupils, she continued on. “…I just wanted to know if you were okay…”
Still ducking behind the shield that was his shoulder blades, the boy’s scowl looked
. memes to dismember me with .. memes to dismember me with .. memes to dismember me with . by Amanda-Graham
We want to know who we are, and alone, we find no answers. We turn to the eyes of others inquiring, "Do you know me?" At times we suffer their silences. Much later, in those moments where endings are being approached, we wonder, ‘Was it what they saw of me?’ or ‘Had I made other choices, at some point earlier on, would this moment have been avoided?’
Our meanings, seeing ourselves, occur only as echoes. The sound of footsteps in dark alleys, in Marseille perhaps, where I was uncertain in my language, so involved in thinking that I missed what it was she said softly. I caught only the words "... your beauty is too subtle." These years later, it's come upon me that that was her goodbye and I'd been damned by looking with microscopes at what I thought I was seen as, and that she'd seen what I truly was.
Our minds are flavored by all of the accumulated histori
Choice in the DirectionIf being gay is a choice, then so is being straight, bi, etc..Choice in the Direction by Everlasting90
The truth is we can't choose the feelings,
but we can choose the direction.
. fortune cookie messages .. fortune cookie messages .. fortune cookie messages . by Amanda-Graham
what you want
leather an lather
mirror reflects a glimmer'n light
tilt of helmet
booted and grimacing
- remembers –
' ... i'm about ... '
her loyalty and love
precision of her self-assessment
countered only by the weight
of the rocks tucked in her dress
sisters of the shadows
blurred in passing
ouuuu Clive Barker? umm errr wot about
Hemingway - dead
Plath - still dead
Pynchon - doesn't really exist
my list is long and plays like a wax-tube recording
names and places those writers and poets roamed
while I remained a child trapped by obligations
only reading, imagining, formed scenes far from home
not a come on
simply a moment of
Chapter 1: The Tempest
Young Nyck awoke to the muffled roaring of crashing waves. The shaking boom of thunder seemed to clear his eardrums. His eyelids opened, revealing a blurred vision of lightning striking out of a dark blue overcast sky. He felt his body rock up and down.
Nyck's vision clarified, the lightning striking out of the sky was a pale blue. The smell of rain and the seawater entered his nose. As he lifted himself up, he realized he had been lying on the damp floor of a launch. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he looked around at his nautical surroundings.
Nyck placed a hand on his throbbing head. What happened? How did I get here? Is this a dream? The last thing he remembered was staring at the ceiling of his hotel room from his warm bed, trying to fall asleep.
The undulation of the boat assured him that this was no dream. His stomach felt it was dropping.
Three piles of damp ash surrounded him, some of it spilled from the heaps. He frowned at the mounds. Where did they come from?
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