One of the best comments anyone ever wrote.One of the best comments anyone ever wrote.5 days ago in Emotional More Like This
So my friend :icon345rv5: wrote this little masterpiece of a comment on my last journal post. It read almost like an essay and I found it so inspiring I thought to post it as an actual deviation. Read this Winston Churchill like quote.
Which is why we need to expose the brainwashing gender studies universities. This GamerGate issue ceased being just about ethics in journalism when the mainstream media attacked us. I used to think the idea of Cultural Marxism was merely a conspiracy theory from Alex Jones, this woke me up to the reality that this kind of poison was prevalent in our youth. I used to think these people were well intentioned idiots and didn't have enough numbers to be any operational threat to our democracy, now i know that they're not only a operational threat but they're being lead by dishonest extremists with a major agenda no different from Jihadists and crusaders and had these people been claiming to be fighting in the name of Jesus or Allah, society would be more inc
They went to school and never came back..They went to school and never came back..3 days ago in Emotional More Like This
I was as usual in a state of bliss. That omnipotent feeling like duh, nothing can possibly go wrong with me. Nothing that life throws at me can stir me I am living happily in the paradise of oblivion I created. People are killed? Oh that's pretty normal. People are killed everyday. That place had a traffic accident? Who cares, driver should be blamed. Not my fault. Not my business. Terrorist are going to attack again? Oh a minute of worry. Than its shrugged off. After all , I am living in a big city. They wont attack here. WHY CARE FOR OTHERS? Why affect our own lives for them, after all I am a cursed observer who wont ever be victimized or so I believed .
Anyway, cold and jinxed as I may be, somewhere deep down I still cared, I still had the capability to feel the pain of others. And that I discovered today, on 16th December 2014 even a person like me couldn't stop her tears. The tragedy that has befallen us cannot be described in words.
Imagine yourself as 15 year old ready for schoo
Waiting, Fading, and Floating AwayI started talking to serial killers years ago when the depression started to form. Or maybe it had always been there? I’m not the kind of person who lets my emotions get the best of me. I’m always the calm and rational person people often go to for advice and support.Waiting, Fading, and Floating Away3 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Though, I’ve always found it funny how people always expect me to be there for them, but when I need them, no one is around. But I guess that’s kind of how my whole life has been. I’m only here when you need me, and I guess that existence is an existence enough.
I had read books on true crime and killers for a while, but it never occurred to me to write to them until I was fifteen. I remember coming home one day done with the world, and instead of taking my life, I wrote a letter.
At first, I had written to Charles Manson, Joe Metheny, Gary Ridgeway, Charles Cullen, and David Berkowtiz (Son of Sam). I wrote about my life, my pain, my struggles, and how lonely I felt. It never really phased me
Against Human TraffickingI'd rather sell my body to the highest bidder, every night for the rest of my life, than sell my child.Against Human Trafficking2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
I'd rather be a burglar than trade away my child to pay off my debts.
I'd rather live on the streets than see my child give up an education so she/he can earn money for the family.
.:Declaration d'Amour:..:Declaration d'Amour:.4 days ago in Emotional More Like This
There is that girl
Yes that girl
Well I know her
I know her since a while now
and I like her
not like a lover or anything
I just like her
I like staring at her
when she draws
when she stares at the sky
I like staring at her in general
I don't know if she is pretty
But I find her pretty
I seem being the only noticing that
I tend to bother her a lot
because I like her
I like her a lot
She says she hates that
But I don't believe her
So I keep bothering her
She also says she is fine
when I ask her what is wrong
But I don't believe her
So I keep asking
I keep asking
because I know
I know she lies
I like her
I like her a lot
and I seem being the only one noticing
I like her so much
that I don't wanna show her
how I feel about her
Even if I have to say
I don't like her
I like her
I like her a lot
I like staring at her writing in her diary
I know she dislikes that
But I keep
It all comes back to you. Thoughts keep running around in my head. Thoughts, memories, emotions, concepts, ideas, characters, personalities… A personality of a character who had ideas for the world, concepts of what life held, emotions in every memory to cross his train of thought. A personality of someone who, as much as it hurts me to say it, doesn’t exist anymore. It’s not that it didn’t exist at some point, that’s not the case at all. Like the harsh words that spilled from a friends mouth: “That is all he was ever meant to be.”It all comes back to you.1 week ago in Emotional More Like This
I knew his personality like the back of my hand. I could tell you anything you wanted to know, like how his favorite song was Two Tickets to Paradise and the way he sang his heart out any time it came on the radio. Radio like how we would battle between radio stations on every car ride but of course I always won. Won like how I won match after match of Mario Kart but he denied it to save his pride. Pride like the p
Some Presumptuous Piece Of MindYou say that you wish to understand. The point of life is understanding it; the way the world is, the way our minds work. The difference between how things should go and how reality laughs in our face and shows us that it's really how we want them to go.Some Presumptuous Piece Of Mind2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Let me tell you what I understand.
I understand that people are people. They may only be human but they are beautiful, and they are good at what they do. I understand that we fall short and it's so easy to get back up, only sometimes we don't realise just how easy it could be.
I understand that some people don't want to be helped, they just want to sit in their corner and cradle their sorrows while pretending that life isn't worth anything, it's just time to pass. And that some people try too hard to make others happy, and they end up breaking their own hearts and burying their souls in a needless effort to be selfless and shining.
I understand that sometimes all a person needs is to know that they are loved. And sometimes it's
Blessed We Are The Children Of God I heard them fighting again. I wish they would stop. Why do they blame each other for my cancer? Why can't they be happy and love each other again? All I ever hear, is them argue or cry. My Grandpa visited today for my birthday. I told him I think it might be my last, but I'm worried about mommy and daddy when I go, I don't want them to get a divorce. He told me not to think like that. That Jesus can heal all things; my cancer and their marriage. He then gave me my present, I wasn't too surprised to see a bible but I was happy I did. Grandpa loves Jesus. Mommy and daddy did too, but not after we found out I have throat cancer. I miss going to church together every sunday; singing, worship, everything.Blessed We Are The Children Of God4 days ago in Emotional More Like This
I'm already eight years old and for all I know I could die tomorrow. I keep wondering; will I see grandma in heaven? Grandpa says that heaven is a beautiful place and we don
Collige virgo rosasCollige virgo rosas1 week ago in Emotional More Like This
“ It’s 4 in the morning and I wish I could be pressed against your chest, listening to your heartbeat instead of the rain. “
He could feel his heart stopping from time to time, finding its way to another living individual and scaring away from him. His mind was doubted by the will of existing and shades of gray encountered each part of it. The eyes that once witnessed the multicolored dawn are now pieces of cobwebs merely affected by the moments that are passing by. Was his life only a score played by a maniac pianist who was also manipulated by a mad puppet, so called the ‘fate’? As his fingertips barely touched the window, a powerful light enchanted in his eyes as the Tokyo Tower’s illuminating turned on next to his apartment. He wanted to look away but the strange brightness kept him captive for a short period of time like he was calculating the chances of wanting to pat that thing.
Hair, hair, hair.Hair, hair, hair.16 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, again.
Hair inside me.
Hair in my mouth.
Hair in my bed.
Hair on my hands.
Hair are awesome.
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, again.
Hair in my eyes.
Hair in my stomach.
Hair on my arms.
Hair are nightmares.
I need it. I won't stop, or will I ?
I don't remember before, I don't imagine after.
I need it. I can't stop, will you ? You can't remember before, there is nothing before.
C'mon, do it again.
Trich is your friend...
Trich is you...
I am your friend.
I am you.
I love you. Paris, November 14th, 1871I love you.19 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
My little Aurora,
It’s your mommy writing. Forgive me for using the word « Your mommy », when you don’t know me, when someone else raised you. But it’s the last time. They sentenced me to death.
I know now that I’ll never see you growing up, that I won’t be able to say these words that filled me with joy : « Aurora », « my little daughter ».
One last time though, I’d like to talk to you. Not to sing you a lullaby or to tell
Me causas...si yo aquí, llorando de nuevoMe causas...2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
me canse de esperar
de estar llorando con cada canción que me acuerdan de ti
mi esperanza de volverte a ver, se van poco a poco
quisiera conocerte un poco mas
solo un poco
solo una vez
y se que tengo que olvidarte
pero no puedo
me siento frustrada, sola
triste,con rabia y un montón de cosas mas
lloro, si, solo eso puedo hacer ahora
no puedo hacer mas, estoy atada de manos
me pregunto por que?
por que no puedo estar en tu vida?
por que no puedo causar el mismo sentimiento en ti?
ya no puedo con todo esto,
me esta matando
mis ojos están rojos, de tanto llorar
pero tu no te das cuenta
solo quería decirte eso
se que suena un poco loco
pero eso no es nada de todo
lo que me causas....
Blank Spaces"I can't love you. You were born from a strand of starlight. My soul was carved out of the millions of miles in-between each one. We'll never reach each other. I'm just a blank space."Blank Spaces3 days ago in Emotional More Like This
"But my dear, we are both from the same night."
Letting GoLife can be rough. The universe has its share of challenges for all of us to face. And when you worry incessantly about what could have been, you forget to truly live life. I've found a good quote is, "Hindsight is 20/20." This quote recognizes that we cannot foresee the outcome of every situation perfectly. In truth, although humans make mistakes, these mistakes are part of what make us who we are, like every experience. And what has happened cannot be changed, only accepted. So try and let go of what cannot be changed and learn from it for the future.Letting Go3 days ago in Emotional More Like This
To Those Who Brought Me DownTo Those Who Brought Me DownTo Those Who Brought Me Down3 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Yes, you. You men and you women, three in total, who decided
that it was okay to make my life a living hell.
I'm not gonna lie,
the pain that you caused still hurts.
There's still a hole that you left in my heart
when you turned your back on me.
But it's time for me to confront my pain
and to confront you.
Let's start with the first. Ah, my first love,
the first guy I really cared for.
The first one who I thought cared for me.
Ah, you...you were a wolf in sheep's clothing.
You made me feel like a gem.
You made me think you cared.
But then turned your back and left me.
A while later, I let you back in,
and we started dating again.
That was my first mistake.
The second was letting you play me
for six long weeks.
The third was not leaving you
with all your bull crap.
And the fourth was bothering to care
what you thought of me after that.
The fifth was trying to be your friend
when all you did was give me hate.
Slipping me the finger
17. Somewhere in the distance a fire-engine is howling. The evening is full of screams that sound as the pre-recorded air-raid sirens that used to interrupt our TVs. We are the First Gulf War kids and the 24 hour countdown to my demise now begins.17. 5 days ago in Emotional More Like This
They always find their way back to me, as soon as I regain some half baked hope that my life can belong to me. At the exact moment when I press the ejection seat— to find release— they hijack the sky, they call me their home and as always, I will let them in.
I guess I am just sick.
Am I dead?Am I dead? Or am I alive?Am I dead?5 days ago in Emotional More Like This
I must be dead. I feel no happiness from deep inside, no matter how happy I appear to be. I feel no sorrow when I shed tears, however many fall. I feel no pain when I am hurt, even when cut open and bleeding. I feel no comfort when I feel an embrace, no matter how sincere it may be. I feel no regret when I lie, no matter how much it affects me. I feel emptiness. I feel cold. I feel nothing. I am dead.
Or am I?
I feel the tears fall without stopping, no matter how meaningless they are. I feel the sobs tear through me, no matter hoe silent they are. I feel the weight on my chest, even though I can't see anything. I feel my eyes sting, even though I feel nothing. I feel the joy all around, trying to reach me. I feel myself being pulled away from it, even though I'm alone. I feel the hate burning me, eve though I am not on fire. I feel the darkness grow in me, even though the room is bright. I feel myself falling in loneliness, even though I am sitting down.
P.S I Love YouA message pops up, her heart skips a beat.P.S I Love You5 days ago in Emotional More Like This
She opens it quickly, but she knows who it is
The apple of her eye, the boy that stole her heart
But she’ll never admit it…. She’s too shy
The conversation goes on for hours
She’d never get bored, nothing makes her happier than talking to him
But sadly, everyone has to go eventually….
She types a farewell, a little smile at the end
Sends it, and tentatively types another that simply reads:
‘P.S…. I love you……..’
She shakes her head, blushes
Embarrassed, her fingers quickly delete it
Another night she falls asleep feeling defeated
School break comes, and with it plans
She spends so much time with him
You never see one without the other
And every time, as they part
‘P.S…. I love you…..’
One night he stays longer than usual
They simply sit outside in the cold, watching the skies
She’s cold, he hugs her close
And suddenly her cheeks and ears a
My MuseHe sat gazing at the sea every Friday afternoon, alone on the bench that faced the endless expanse of the blue. A gentleman in white shirt and denim shorts that inspired a jazz melody. Several buildings were in view on the harbour, with ships and boats securely anchored near land. He sat there for a long time watching them all – the distant movement on the dock – but always did his look shift to a long, fixed stare into something deeper, obscure... in fact, into nothing in particular. His mind then travelled to dark places in an instant, without having him consciously know about the absorption. The world around him grew calm and friendly to the thought evolution in his mind; voices and flashes from the past, memories… but also the present and future, all coming at him like a wave of introspection. He thought about people in general; about their imperfections, their selfishness and hypocrisy and how there’s no way out. He thought about how people come and go, howMy Muse1 week ago in Emotional More Like This
UnawareWasted life.Unaware7 hours ago in Emotional More Like This
The funeral wasn't super loud or super quiet. It was horrifying for most of the sympathetic adults. For the merry children who were friends of the family? For the deceased children? 5 year old twin little boy and girl? It was a fun time. They had no idea what was going on. Running around the funeral home and exploring all over, unaware of what went on.
They were just children! Innocent little children...they hid and yelled loudly, merrily. They had rosy cheeks and bright eyes. No innocence was lost. The funeral director glowered unmercifully at them. "What are you doing?!" He yelled as a worried parent came up quickly and made the children stop the playful screams.
They still didn't understand--how could they? Little children are immortal. Babies are immortal. Unless you have a super awareness of the world, you are going to live forever. Only adults die, right? Only adults are the ones to go. Only adults go away.
Today was the day of the funeral of him. John was a g
Amizades VirtuaisUma vez meu primo disse que amigos virtuais não eram reais.Amizades Virtuais1 day ago in Emotional More Like This
Ele estava errado.
Amigos virtuais são reais. Na verdade, são muito mais que isso.
Eles são especiais.
Se você pensar bem, amigos virtuais são pessoas que confiam muito em você. Mesmo nunca tendo te visto pessoalmente, eles te consideram um amigo. Mesmo nunca tendo te visto pessoalmente na vida, eles te ajudam quando você está mal, te fazem rir, te deixam feliz.
Mesmo nunca tendo te visto pessoalmente.
Porque numa amizade verdadeira, não importa se a pessoa mora na sua rua ou no seu país. Não importa se ela está a 100 metros ou a mil quilômetros.
Em uma amizade verdadeira nada disso importa.
Porque amizades verdadeiras não precisam disso. Apenas precisam ser verdadeiras.
Apenas precisam ter amor.
Eu amo meus amigos virtuais, porque mesmo estando a quilômetros de distância eles me fazem rir, me animam, me ajudam quando precisam. Eles me aguenta
Saving Faith...“Please, for me don’t go in there”, he whispered,Saving Faith...2 days ago in Emotional More Like This
Standing by her side he froze, eyes trailing,
But never seeing the other side, “Please, don’t leave me?”, he asked,
The burns taking him in their hunger, he faded for a moment,
“You can’t leave me here!?”, he asked scared, “I’m cold!”,
He spoke so quietly, he shook, his hands adding at the edges,
“I can’t, not without you!”, she said, her voice trailing as his did,
Before the burning took them both then it spread eating everything,
Loud screams, his, and she grabbed at his hand… “I know we’ll make it…”,
They almost did, not that night, not the night of the fire; it took both of us,
He looked so frightened; she stood trying not to look at the ground,
Fading, he took his hand, and she grabbed it, his face broke…
“Please, go!”, he said through burnt chapped and broken lips,
Trying to part in a croo