--At first, she made dirty jokes, swore too much, and wore much more black than anyone should care for. She got annoyed far too easily and cared way too much. She wanted everyone to be happy, but she wasn't trying to please anybody by changing into something she wasn't. She'd make fun of herself and always found something humorous in any situation. She was attracted to the dark and abnormal. She was passionate, cynical, and strong. She was unapologetically herself.--15 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Dig a little deeper, and you'll notice the bright blush across her face when she presented in class. You'll hear the softness in her voice when a teacher called on her, and realize that she never raised her hand, or greeted people first in the hallway. She always apologized first, often excessively. She felt bad for things that weren't her fault. She was the first to hold someone's hand when they were scared, and the last to give up on something that was important to her. She was shy, insecure, emotional and compassionate. She
The Things I Never got to Say “I’m sorry.”The Things I Never got to Say5 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
That was always how my sentences should’ve started.
You usually were.
“I love you.”
Three simple words. Never could bring myself to say them, you always seemed to know, but you still deserved to be told.
“I love you more than the booze.”
I hate that I never told you that.
“I love you more than the drugs.”
“I miss you.”
I did every second we weren’t together.
“I love the way you laugh.”
I did. It made me feel lighter, like the world was ours and there was nothing that could stop us.
“I love your smile.”
Why didn’t I ever tell you that? I knew you knew, but I also knew that you were waiting for me to tell you.
“Your hair looks beautiful”
You never thought so, but I always loved it.
such tears. many reunion. much feel. i can't even-<kamikins>The snow was sparkling white on the grounds near the hotel, nearly blinding Torè as he snuffled through it to find something for Vice's grave. The mafia red Capo had been missing his father something fierce these past few weeks and he figured a little "chat" would do him some good. A metallic scent caught his attention and he raised a paw to scrape the snow back, his blue eyes narrowing when he uncovered a weirdly shaped metal object attached to a thin chain. It looked like a hotel key. Pleased with his find, Torè scooped it up in his jaws and began trotting to his dad's grave, his ears somewhat splayed as his heart rate increased. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous but he couldn't deny the feeling of guilt churning in his stomach.such tears. many reunion. much feel. i can't even-11 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
<CasThePizzaMan>Drifting through the snow, Dondi made his way around the hotel grounds and towards the courtyard where his father lay. He was angry. Angry at himself, angry at Ver, angry at his fathers, angry.
I'm not a tree.I'm no treeI'm not a tree.4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I'm not like the others
I'm a wildflower... considered a weed by many.
I don't smell that great
My flowers aren't particularly bright or flashy
But I have my own style that I like
That's different and beautiful.
I attract the people who are right for me
repel the people who are wrong for me
and I find my place among a bigger picture
With God, Jesus, and our ideals at my side.
But how can we be sure?In life, we make conjectures tangibly based on our five senses, which are generally accepted, such as the assumptions that make up our general understanding of the outside world. But in reality, we cannot be sure of any of this. For all we know, grass could be purple and the human eye just sees it as green. For all we know, this reality may just be a dream conjured up while in the "real" world we are in a coma. We cannot be truly sure of much in life besides the existence of our thoughts and feelings. (which is a bit of a dualist point of view) Now why does this matter to any of you? Well in general, this applies to everyday life for the most part as a question to ponder. What do you think or know is real? How can you tell for certain?But how can we be sure?4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Change (232 Words)There’s nothing wrong with change when it comes around. Some changes can be good. Some can be bad. Some can be a bit of both. Even if the change around is bad, you need to reach out and grab it with both hands. Because if you don’t change something when you have the choice, you might be wishing you did later on. You can make your own changes, but you can’t go back on regret.Change (232 Words)13 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I’ve had some changes recently. I think they were good. They felt good, for the most part. Some people aren’t so lucky. Some people are luckier. They can meet someone new who’s perfect for them in every tiny detail without even realising it.
I could sit here and I could talk about how change is good and bad in so many more words but I only have so many. I could talk about the changes in my life and how they’ve both been bad and good. Mostly bad. But recently, good.
The universe may owe you favours. It may not. Your life may be perfect, it may be hell. I don’t know you
I must hear itI have often been told thatI must hear it17 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
actions are more powerful
than words, that doing is
better than saying, and that
is an indusiputable fact. But
one must understand that words
are in and of themselves actions,
I wish to hear what I yearn to
known, not have it intended to
be understood by another's
action. I must hear those
all crutial words that could save
me from madness, save me from
despair and keep me from the
I...I...I...43 minutes ago in Emotional More Like This
wish life could be more like a narrative
a meaningful story where the hero overcomes the villain
the hero is selfless, kind, generous, and wants to help others even at the expense of himself
the villain is selfish, mean, greedy, and wants to help himself even at the expense of others
the hero valiantly sacrifices himself to defeat the villain
the hero's purpose is fulfilled
the villain can no longer hurt anyone
they die, two conflicting sides of the same person... me
I am both the hero and the villain of a story I feel has to be true
I hope I can escape these thoughts, but I'm not sure how to get free of this,
action-packed supernatural super-powered narrative epic I've built around myself.
late night panicsI feel sick and I feel tired and I also feel somewhat wired. I want to die. I want to cry. There's nothing here but a filthy lie. Won't someone please shoot me? Just take me out of my misery. This black hole inside my chest, I just want to be put to rest. These tight strings around my heart, I'm seconds away from falling apart.late night panics4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I want to die. I want to cry. I'm empty inside and God knows why. It's agony living inside me. Lay me to bed, pretend I'm dead. Oh I'm so lonely, please take care of me.
It's after hours, long hot showers, the tears won't come and I'm feeling numb.
Te espero...Camino hacia un extremo, camino hacia el otro. Aguardo la llegada de la persona más importante. Si, soy un chico muy paciente. Nada saldrá mal. ¡Si, señor!Te espero...4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Papá me dijo que estará ocupado, arreglando asuntos laborales más de 15 días. Al principio me desanimé, porque no sabía lo que le pudiese ocurrir. Mas yo transformé mis caprichos en un frío semblante, que tal vez haría de mi padre alguien orgulloso de mi.
- Te... voy a extrañar... - Balbuceé mirando al piso.
- ¡Vamos, campeón! Sólo serán unos días. Nada malo pasará, lo prometo.
Su mirada se veía tan firme y serena a la vez. Como mi confianza gradualmente creció, quise entregarle algunas cositas que le había confeccionado desde hace algunos días. Era un suéter con estampados de animalitos (mamá me había ayudado en algo) y un collar hecho con un muñeco de plástico que compré e
Llorar y despertar"9:12" marca el reloj de la brillante pantalla ante mí. Asomo la cabeza por la ventana, está oscuro afuera. Quizás hay algunas luces pero no las noto entre mis lágrimas amargas. Una canción ochentera suena en el fondo, seguro hay una "reunión" en alguna de las casas de mis vecinos.Llorar y despertar5 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
La noche no para. La vida no para por un corazón desmoronado, por un alma quebrada.
Me miro en el espejo intentando encontrar esa mirada fuerte y decidida, aquella sonrisa burlona ante la vida, y aquel perfil de quién lo imposible desconoce, pero no encuentro nada. Sólo una pequeña niña asustada, una pequeña con miedo a fallar, con miedo a perder lo único que desea de verdad. Sus ojos enormes llenos de lágrimas me miran desconsolados y algo se rompe dentro de mí, sus rosados labios tiemblan con pánico, su rostro no para de mandar esa aura triste y frágil. Quisiera no verla, quisiera alejarme pero me es imposible. Mis pies fa
The Tinsel WhispererThe Tinsel WhispererThe Tinsel Whisperer7 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I pull every strand of tinsel from my “Charlie Brown tree”
collecting them, and carefully placing them in a plastic bag,
just as I have done since I was a child...only then the bag was paper.
As I begin the task of removing the colorful plastic dollar-store ornaments,
and carefully packing them into the medium-sized shipping box
that I have used for the past three years,
I begin to feel my eyes well up with un-shed tears...
When my children were small, I had a habit of keeping the little Christmassy things that they made for me...
the little reindeer ornament that Joey made for me the first Christmas after
I got him back...(he was 9 then)
The styrofoam ball ornament that Ben made in Kindergarten,
(that I had to re-glue every year!)
all the dang paper snowflakes,
and the awesome cookie ornaments that Aura made when she was 10...
she was so proud of them.
I kept these things in the 4 or 5 boxes of Ch
My cracked and broken heartMy heart is cracked and brokenMy cracked and broken heart8 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Depression seeps it's way in through the cracks in my heart
Moving in like cold in a winters night
Freezing my broken heart
Leaving my soul cold and damp
Depression soaks my heart, my mind, my very soul
Like a cold damp fog
Depression takes over my being
I can see it on the horizon coming for me
Feel it's cold icy fingers reaching for me
I can feel it slowly seeping into my heart and soul
Consuming me forever
In the cold
In the dampness
In the darkness
Depression slips in through the cracks in my heart
Slowly killing me
Filling my broken heart with endless sadness
Sociedad, suciedad.Dicen que todos los seres humanos tenemos los mismos derechos, y que, al mismo tiempo, somos diferentes. Dicen que hay que respetar a todos; sus gustos, sus creencias, su personalidad e incluso su físico. Dicen que la vida es injusta, cuando los injustos son ellos.Sociedad, suciedad.10 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Porque no existe una ciudad, ni un pueblo, ni un país, ni un continente apropiado para las personas. Ellos ya han destruido el mundo, pero se quejan.
Se quejan de la soledad, de la tristeza, de la distancia; cuando son ellos quienes la buscan. Se quejan de aspectos de los demás, cuando ellos mismos los imitan. Se quejan de lo que tienen, porque nunca es suficiente. Se quejan, en general, de su propia estupidez.
Gobiernan los incompetentes y se quedan a un lado los inteligentes. Destacan los que gritan, porque los que no lo hacen, no son escuchados. Destacan los que no se quedan callados pensando, sino los que dicen lo primero que se les ocurre.
¿Dónde quedó aquello de descubrir algo nuevo?
I spilled my guts (part 1)I spilled my guts.I spilled my guts (part 1)11 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Bloody trail diluted with tears leads to the bus stop, where Charon, upon receiving his payment agreed to carry me through Styx, back to my charred house. Death wasn't painful, because I didn't really lose anything, turns out the hard part was about to begin.
Because how do you expect someone, who faked the last seven years of his life and discarded his humanity to just die? Someone so filled with internal resentment, anger and envy, that he was unable to feel any positive emotion, to simply bid farewell? Someone, who learned to control and suppress his every thought and gesture, to just stand still?
And yet, old habits die hard. Combat with yourself is the hardest kind of combat. Have you got any idea, how impossible it can be for one to scream? To get angry or even refuse, instead of fantasizing about it?
"You can't say no, or else you'll end up hated and alone."
Doesn't matter if I'm dead and have nothing to lose. Fear has been so deeply ingrained in
Known by No oneI am unknown, but don't assume to much.Known by No one18 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I am not unknown because I am hidden,
not because I cannot be understood, not
because I require a great deal of sacrifice
or effort to be discovered, no, none of that.
I am unknown because no sentient being
is able to accept me, to become aware
of my presence. I have been present from
the inception of reality, and yet, I will
remain a ghost amongst the stars, a memory
not forgotten, but ignored and repressed by
the cosmos itself.
the girl in the venetian red dressto the girlthe girl in the venetian red dress19 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
in the venetian red dress
wipe that sorrow
off your face
because it doesn't go well
with that beautiful
venetian red dress
The Devil WithinI care, but I probably fooled myself into doing so.The Devil Within8 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
I am only a fake.
Do I really feel anything?
Or, I am just faking it?
I think I give a damn, but do I really?
Am I really the sentimental being
I want to see myself as?
Or, am I just a monster?
I tell myself, "You shouldn't
be too hard on yourself!"
But, if I am not,
Will I just go berserk?
I have no white in my heart.
I am filled with pure black.
I delude myself into thinking
that I am good person.
But, I should stop pretending.
I cry whenever I am forced
into a dire situation.
I whine whenever I am faced
I am nothing, but a selfish
Do I really care?
Or, am I just the devil within?
Duotonos - Acto IDuotonos - Acto I4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
"A veces, la amistad significa dominar el arte del tiempo.
Tiempo de callar. Tiempo para dejar ir a las personas y que enfrenten su propio destino.
Y tiempo para empezar a recoger los fragmentos cuando todo acabó." Octavia Butler
Sábado. Septiembre, 1992
Diez para las nueve de la noche
No hay sonido alguno en estas calles.
Un viento que cada vez me congelaba era partícipe de mi búsqueda nocturna. Los postes de dicha zona solo reflejaban duotonos, haciéndose notar un sepia incandescente producto de las luces. Era yo contra el mundo. En mi sueño hacia el confort, a través de una ciudad tan alterada y compleja.
Nueve y ocho de la mañana
—Manuel, ¿puedo ir a tu casa para la otra tanda de juegos pendientes?—pregunté ansioso ante una promesa que me hizo hace algunas