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Falling: Prologue“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does."
Saturday, June 9th, 2057: 5:17 A.M.
I woke to silence and knew I was alone. Of course I was used to this: waking up each and every morning to an empty house. It was almost as though one could hear their own breathing and, if they’re lucky and listen to the quiet hard enough, hear the sound of air hissing past their ears like when you place your ear to a conch and imagine that it’s the ocean.
Stiff joints popped and I flexed beneath the blankets- arched my back and let out a small grunt as sleep-ridden muscles were forced to work again. With much effort I worked my way out of the bed and lumbered to the bathroom across the too-quiet, too-dark hallway to relieve myself and look into the mirror with a scowl. My reflection scowled back.
Still half awake and barely functioning, I put my
The Stages of SpringI. Autumn's presence
Nothing but the crisp smell of
Fallen leaves and the in-and-out
Patterns of warm days laced with chill
II. Snow storms in March
Cold and ice when and where
It just shouldn't be
III. Lengthening days
And screwed up sleeping schedules
As night comes later
And an hour is lost from the day
Try not to have an early schedule that week
Because deep regret will follow with the first morning
IV. Flowers blooming and birds returning
Trees coming back to life with buds of pink
And chirps of winged beauties
Blessing the steadily-warming mornings
Warmth of the oncoming summertime
Unsure of a titleYou held my very existence within calloused fingers
And palms roughened from both playing stringed instruments
And catching yourself as you tripped over life’s speed bumps.
I wasn't broken, in the beginning.
Glued together and delicate, but not quite ruined.
You were gentle with my being and you cared
But I began to grow dark with age
My fingers grew slender from typing away my mind
And my limbs grew lined and dotted with scars
That were either intentional or accidental, I stopped keeping track at one point.
Eventually, it chased you away
And despite you staying, you weren't quite there with me
As the cracks grew more prominent and my mind grew heavy with beautiful thoughts
Of falling from your hands and crashing down into the icy dark of life’s ruthless grasp.
Of shattering upon impact and leaving everything behind.
You put me back on the shelf from which you found me,
Damaged and too close to the edge and left to collect dust.
Not that I minded; it
Squeaky Shoes and Vacant EyesSqueaky shoes and vacant eyes
Earbuds that hide a mind that lies
Music so loud to block out the noise
Caused by the judging girls and boys
Pale pink scars and shaking hands,
Snapping wrists with rubber bands.
Hair cut shorter, sleeves bought longer,
Hiding away so they can sit and ponder
The life they want to leave behind
But each day life will be sure to remind
Them to go outside with a smile and a lie
And to go back home and never cry.
And after all this time with every lie
They wait for the day they can say goodbye
To squeaky shoes and vacant eyes
And earbuds that shield a mind that wants to die
After-ThoughtsOne day he just kind of. . .Showed up.
He didn't have a name,
Or a reason,
Or a shape, at the time.
It was dark, so all I heard was a maturing voice coming from the shadows.
He just sauntered his way into my life
And made me so fucking angry:
Yet he was the light in my life.
Like I was a boat at sea
And he was the lighthouse;
He led me to shore and saved me from harsh waves.
I still encountered rough things-
Life can't ever spare you of them.
It's a bitch to deal with, am I right?
But he was there,
Always right there in that patch of grass lost in the woods.
Always when I needed him.
Most of the time, anyway.
He was the cause of so much turmoil
And panic attacks that had me curled up in the shower
Or under the covers
That smug little smart-ass didn't know what he did to me.
He was the cause of so much happiness
That I never had before he came along.
"Before he came along,".
Those were some damn-dark times.
I never left the house
Sometimes I like to think. . .Sometimes I like to think that no one would care if I disappeared.
Sometimes i like to think that they would hate me if I disappeared.
But I can’t; there are people here that need me. Not that they really care. But so long as they need me, I can’t leave. I'm not blessed with that privilege.
It works a little something like this: Someone that needs me will come into my life. I help them. “Fix” them, if you may. They make me feel happy. Loved. Like I actually mean something.
But as quickly as they enter my life, they’re gone. Once I’m no longer needed I’m cast aside- forgotten.
I think that’s all my existence is for. To help; and to be forgotten.
God, haven’t I suffered enough heartbreak? Of being forgotten.
I can only pray that one day I will be forgotten entirely. I will no longer be just a face in the crowd- I will no longer be just a name. I will no longer have a place in time
I'm Not a CutterJust because I'm not a Cutter,
Doesn't mean I can't feel pain.
It just means I’m strong enough,
to fight the battle, without giving up,
or succumbing to my own agony.
It just means, that I'm strong enough to go on.
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
We're Waiting.To be a good writer is to be you. To be a good artist is to be you. To be anything is to be you. Dream. Live. Wonder. Create. And be yourself.
Because you are the one who can make the change that everyone's been waiting for. You can do what others were too afraid to do. You just need a little push, and a lot of hope.
But most of all, you need you. Your individuality. Your uniqueness. Your creativity. Your imagination. And if you tie that all together, you can create something absolutely beautiful. Something new. Something amazing. Something we've all been waiting for.
The world is waiting for the next J.K Rowling. The world is waiting for the next Van Gogh. The world is waiting for the next Beethoven. The next Einstein. The next John F. Kennedy. The world is waiting for you. We're waiting for a change. And who's the say you can't make a change? Who's to say you can't make a difference?
You can. You most certainly can. All you need is a dream, hope, and a little bit of imagination. And
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
Just Venting"Are you alright?"
"Wow, you're good. Why aren't you in honors?"
Because I know I'll fail.
"Hello? ...You okay?"
"Wow, I didn't mean it. It was a fucking joke...Hello? Hey, I said I'm sorry."
"You don't appreciate anything."
"You're so lazy."
"Wow, what's got you in such a pissy mood?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"...Over a month."
"When was the last time you talked to him?"
"And that boy you talked about, you're still with him?"
"He cheated on me."
"You don't trust many people, do you?"
"I trust far more than I should."
"For someone with all these problems, you sure do smile a lot."
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
Have you ever had the feeling...Have you ever had the feeling like you just don't know what to do? Where you just can't even think of what to say or who to talk to? Like you're being torn between two sides and you just don't know who to pick? Like if you make one wrong move, you'll be sent down a slippery slope with no return?
I feel like this every day. I don't know what to say, and I don't know what not to say. I don't know who I should and shouldn't be talking to. I don't know what questions are safe to ask, and what ones are better left unsaid.
I can't simply hide away from it all. And I can't simply do something too drastic. I feel like I'm being forced to feel some way when I feel another. Like I'm the bad guy for staying true to myself.
I'll get in big trouble if I make a mistake, and I don't know how to keep going without making one. I'm terrified of the inevitable fates that I see...I can't find a path to a good outcome no matter how much I think it over...
No one tells me straight up what's wrong, I have to
You don’t know me and I don’t fully know you- I only know your story. Sometimes a story is all you need to really know someone, and I’m sorry you may never know me, but I feel blessed to know you.
I... well, vocabulary is very limited and I don’t really think there are words to describe it but, well, I can try. In a way I kind of look up to you. It’s amazing how strong you are; if what is happening to you were to happen to me I wouldn’t be half as strong as you are. That’s how I also feel about Jeth. We often don’t know what we have, and I sometimes think that it’s amazing how people can live without things I take for granted. Like Jeth told me you aren’t able to look at a computer screen; that would seriously kill me. All I ever do is go on my phone and laptop, and if I didn’t have those things, I would I hate every second without them. You and Jeth both are similar in your own ways because you both have more po
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
I Can't Lose to You.My blood rushes.
My head is light.
I can't think straight anymore,
My only thought is; Fight.
Fight your criticism.
Fight your words.
Fight your taunting.
I hate myself like this,
Where all I see is red.
It only reminds me,
How I wish I were dead.
That way, I can hurt no one.
I can not give in.
I can not lose.
I can't. . .
I can't let you win.
I want to scream,
But I don't want to lose again.
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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