--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.--3 days 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 Say2 days 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.
Somewhere Somewhere, there is a girl.Somewhere1 day ago in Emotional More Like This
Somewhere, there is a girl who thinks of me as i think of her.
Somewhere, when my name is mentioned, a heart flutters.
Somewhere, just the thought of me makes for a wide smile.
Somewhere, a song about a boy is playing.
Somewhere, to a special person, that boy is me.
Somewhere, there is a girl with a crush, and that crush is on me.
Unfortunately, that somewhere...is nowhere.
BattleBattle2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
There's a war going on
It's a battle between good and evil
And it's happing inside of me
This isn't the first time this battle was fought
And it won't be the last
Who will win this time?
Will it be good?
Or will evil prevail once again?
When words cut deeperTo the fallen miracles that have sunk deep into the ocean graveyards, where slow, mental disintegration and physical, natural decomposition lie in wait for you,When words cut deeper2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Do not let your weary bones sink deep into the earth, where name plaques and headstones cannot reach you. Even though the dead outnumber the living, we all try to remember those who have died via name scribbling. Do not let yourself drown in the abyss of the missing, where anonymous black ghosts fill the empty spaces where names and faces should be. Do not allow yourself to be another tragedy: forgotten, and wanting to love and be loved.
Be selfish and leave your legacy, and do not let words reach and suffocate your heart’s most genuine intentions. Do not let the sanctity of your humanity be stolen by the rotting clutches of Death. Be affectionate and invigorate; pay your love to those who want it and not to the venomous villains, and fuel their desires with delicate words and heartfelt love of the utmost purity. Do not l
Faded memoriesHow long has it been since she saw him? She thought to herself. It felt like it's been years since she last saw him on the day just before her death. Which tragically, she wished was never her last day with him. She counted the years on her finger tips as she walked down the path that lead towards her once loved one's house. Remembering where to go up to this very day. As a sigh escaped her lips, a warm, gentle smile formed upon her face as she pulled her gaze away from her hands and looking up, barely seeing the faint overlay of the house Silvertail lived in.Faded memories10 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
She couldn't help it, but she picked up her pace. Running as quickly as her legs could carry her as a haunting, yellow smoke trailed behind her with every step. And finally, within just a few mere seconds, she found herself walking up the steps to his front door.
"Nothing changed." Sunflower looked around the front porch slowly. Still seeing the old cracks on the un-repaired wood that you could easily get a splinter o
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-2 days 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.
MissingI can make my face like stoneMissing23 minutes ago in Emotional More Like This
And tell you what you want to hear.
It's because my heart isn't there.
Joy of NightMy head buzzes a thousand words a minute,Joy of Night5 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
The wines of language come to play.
In the rush of excitement,
my heart feels light and gay.
For a night, a curse-turned-blessing
Peers her head over my shoulder,
And jaunty expressions are dancing
Within the pale upholster.
OutsiderI am an outsider artist.Outsider1 day ago in Emotional More Like This
I do what I do because I love it, not for the coin.
My work is personal, very personal.
My work is quite often working out the problems I am having.
It’s a release, from a working life, it is an outlet.
As a shy person, who see’s the world differently it’s often how I speak.
My words, my images, are ideals, of how I see people, or how I want to live.
I try and show the best in people.
I choose my angles to create something different, to make you look amazing.
My art has broken my heart, it has smashed me to pieces.
But it has also been the best thing in my life.
Showing my friends how great they can be.
Showing what I see in them.
It occupies my mind.
I am an outside artist.
I'm not a tree.I'm no treeI'm not a tree.2 days 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.
A loss of trust A girl sat at her desk, lost in thought. She was dressed comfortably in sweatpants, a large t-shirt and fuzzy socks. Her short brown hair was pulled into a bun and her were eyes focused on the notebook in front of her with dread.The notebook stared back at her, begging her to write something. “It is good to write out your feelings, it’ll make you feel better.” her grandmother had told her. “Every time you feel angry or hurt, just write it down.”A loss of trust2 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
But this time, words couldn’t describe how she felt. She was sad and scared and furious, but she couldn’t do anything until her parents gave her the lecture that she absolutely hated, but it was also the one that she knew she deserved. She had screwed up, her parents didn’t trust her. She would hear their words of confusion, anger and disappointment as they tried to decipher the problem, tried to find the place where she had fallen into the hole she hadn’t meant to dig.
Northern Lights Oh how those lights brighten the dark canvas. The waves of beauty flow like a stream, cascading into a plethora of imagination and wonder. Are they magical? Is it a harbinger of something yet to come? Or maybe just a gift? The questions unending. The imagination limitless.Northern Lights5 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
When I look upon such a sight I feel something I don’t feel most anywhere else. Hope. Hope that the new day will come a little brighter than before. Hope that maybe what we’ve done to wound this earth can be healed. When I see the lights dance in their silent jubilee I feel this is where I am supposed to be and I know I’d rather be nowhere else. Tell me.
When you stare into the sky and see the wondrous colors of the northern lights what does it bring to you? What does mother-earth give to you as a gift this winter?
Him AgainIt's him again. He probably has no idea, but he's changed me. He continues to struggle, and I seem to be falling with him. I hear him tell himself that he's not "good enough". It makes me sad, because I care.Him Again4 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
He doesn't really talk to me anymore, it's been a couple months. He tries to ignore me, but I can't do the same back. I care too much for him. We always make eye contact when we pass each other, but he looks away, as if he's ashamed to ever look at me again.
When we do talk, it's just the heat of the moment. It could be a simple hello, or even a small conversation. But each time, I get a little mad. Why has he choose now? Why not then? I know he can clearly see it on my face, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much.
Again and again, I kept telling myself, maybe he isn't...really worth it. I had my own problems to deal with, and he had his. It's not like he actually cared about me. If he did, he would have come to me.
But still, I can't help but admire him. Call him my hero. Was
The Raven ManHis skin is stretched thinThe Raven Man13 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Over hollow bones,
Decorated with the blackest
Of ink feathers
That are just plentiful enough
To allow him to soar.
With xylophone ribs
And wind stained cheeks
Is too harsh to be called
His face is gaunt
And his eyes are too pale
To be blue
As his lips steal the hue.
His voice is raspy
And catches on sharp letters,
Such a voice does not come naturally.
I wonder, upon occasion,
Just how loud he must have shouted,
Just how long he must have screamed,
For those delicate folds of flesh
Not to have healed yet.
He is the raven man,
And I watch him fly
Quietly and subtly
Against the backdrop
Of a darkened sky.
And he lights his cigarette
With a motion that shows practice,
And stares at the world
Hundreds of metres
Below his dangling feet.
Even birds mourn."
LabelsLabels. I'm surrounded by them.Labels13 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Smart. Artistic. Talented.
But lately there are a few new labels.
Loser. Wannabe Otaku. Anorexic Weirdo. Geek.
But the newest label is the one that hurts the most.
Six days ago it was brought up that I might suffer from asperger's, and after reading the symptoms I have to say it certainly describes me.
I've always known I was different, even in comparison to the other outcasts. I never knew just how deep that went. But labels shouldn't define me. There's really only one label: Grace.
I'm myself and nobody is going to change that.
But that doesn't mean the labels don't hurt, because they do. They sting. But just like any sting you ignore it until you can check it out alone for risk of seeming like a whiny child going on about how "it hurts" and "it left a mark". It definitely leaves a mark. Both internally and externally. Self harm occurs because of pain, and it's usually not physical. Then there's the internal scars that will never fully go away
Phobia Fear has always been a part of my life and I still battle with it today, and I think I’ll always have to deal with it no matter how old I get. Ever since I can remember I have been severely crippled by a certain phobia, which, as time moves on, has swapped one for another. The earliest phobia I can think back to is one that I still can’t find the scientific name for. Basically, I was afraid of anyone who had some physically abnormal trait about them. That seems a little hard to wrap your head around, I understand. I have a story that explains it plainly:Phobia1 day ago in Emotional More Like This
In second grade, after school, when I was with the “Day Camp” kids on the playground, I was sitting at a picnic table with a teacher and an older girl. The girl had this children’s book she’d bought at the book store and she was reading it to the teacher, and since I had nothing else to do, I listened in and looked at the pictures. I soon learned that this was a big mistake
Mawile!Yeah...so I went a little bit crazy in the Granite Cave and caught quite a number of Mawile! Why is this such a big deal? Because of their Mega Evolution! You see, their mega evolution has the ability Huge Power, which doubles their attack stat, making it just completely insane in terms of power, and making it so high that their attack power cannot even be recorded by the game itself! Which is why...if you are interesting in a Mawile, I'll give one to you! My friend code is-3153-6231-2341!Mawile!1 day ago in Emotional More Like This
Charon L'homme au chapeau se raidit, l'attitude soudain moins fluide, le corps au paroxysme d'une tension qu'il reconnaissait mieux que nulle autre.Charon2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Quelle était cette ombre à l'aura extraordinaire, qui criait son désarroi comme une mère qui perd son enfant ? Quelle était son histoire ? Peut-être une délicieuse suite de choix se voulant manichéens et un destin qui se révéla tragique.
Le temps n'avait couru que d'un battement que déjà le chapeau abritait une langue sur des lèvres, se baladant telle un serpent en chasse, écho d'une délectation d'avoir trouvé une telle âme. Sa barbe tressauta grossièrement sous le mouvement du reptile, sa cape claqua lorsqu'il s'élança de vigueur et sa gorge se gonfla du son de sa propre voix.
Il chanta la satisfaction d'avoir un spécimen import
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 panics2 days 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.
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?2 days ago in Emotional More Like This