I hate myself+INSPIRATIONI hate myself+INSPIRATION4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I refuse to starve myself, to fit society's norm of beauty.
I would die if I didn't eat as much as I do.
I refuse to burn my hair to get it to lie flat.
My hair is naturally straight, and even if it wasn't I would love it just the same.
I refuse to wear makeup to fit in.
I have no gross medical disfiguration. There is nothing wrong with my face. I have no wish to cover it in something unnecessary.
I refuse to buy according to genre.
If it's comfortable, if it looks good Does it really matter whether it's emo or prep?
I refuse to lower my standards for you.
If you do not know how to speak to me civilly, we might as well not engage in conversation. Or as you might say, "Fuck off."
I refuse to hate myself.
I am me, and whether I like it or not, I will have to live with myself for the rest of my life.
I refuse to not work to fix my problems.
I'm flawed. We all are. That doesn't mean I will ignore my problems. That means I will focus on
My Lucky Rabbit's Foot Ch. 1My Lucky Rabbit's Foot Ch. 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A lone rabbit sat dejectedly upon a cold, stone floor. His ebony fur, with only his face showing any white whatsoever, was smothered in caked dirt and dried blood. Probably from the many beatings that he had received in his time of captivity. Clasped to his neck, wrists, and ankles were magic-restraining chains, keeping him from trying to escape from his small prison. His sky blue and black jacket and shorts were tattered and worn, rips and tears being seen on every place imaginable on them. It seemed that they were also a bit too small for him.
Outside of the room, a single torch is lit, allowing a small amount of light to reflect into the cell, the only light, other than his own, that was visible. The rabbit looked up, the light from the fire illuminating his sad aquamarine eyes. That light source, small as it may be, was one of the only things he could grasp onto to keep from losing himself.
He had been trapped in this place for twelve years now. Twelve years since he'd b
When We Were KidsWhen We Were Kids7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
A/N: I do not own Death Note characters so dont sue me.
"When were kids"
I never liked to go out. Running around the dusty ground, Standing on the blazing sun's heat, Tiring myself in just stupid sport or game of tag, and mingling around with the other kids in the orphanage, who were they trying to kid? I may be a lazy slack-off loner but I'm not stupid.
Why would try to gain friends with all of those hypocrites? What good will it do to me? I'd rather stay inside and watch TV than work my ass off as a social climber. Its just a waste of time.
Besides I have everything that I need in here: a nice stack of brand new games I haven't played yet, courtesy of the big honcho who owns this place. Hmph, he must have thought that he'd gain some sort of an acceptance from me. Well, its not gonna happen in this lifetime.
You're the no. 1 detective in the whole world, so what? I'm not gonna bow down and worship you, unlike some people I know, and have you ever crossed with the
Vital Spark: Nevermore - Part OneVital Spark: Nevermore - Part One2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Shallow candlelight flickered on the brick walls around him as he approached the desk, a hulking, mahogany shape at the cramped room's center, strewn with a selection of papers that glared brilliant white at him through the darkness, a quilt of shadows whose threads were torn only by the dim firelight. Uneasy silence settled on the dark room, its thick walls effectively drowning out the chorus of screams that cried out in the assortment of dungeon cells that lied beyond.
Finally, he cleared his throat, shattering the uneasy quiet that had fallen on the cramped quarters. The gentle thud of paper on mahogany drew the attention of the man behind the desk, his dour, golden yellow glare falling on the thick booklet of bills bound together with a light tan strip of leather. Arching an inquisitive eyebrow, he retrieved the cash, flipping through the bills with a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the fingers of his other hand drumming impatiently against the wooden desk.
Sonic FF Ep 8: Stolen Hearts 4Int. Sonic's House DaySonic FF Ep 8: Stolen Hearts 44 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Tails is looking nervously over at a slowly rising and falling pile of blankets.
TAILS: Uh Sonic?
SONIC (Muffled): No!
TAILS: But you didn't mean all those things you
SONIC (Muffled): Every one of them! She's a stuck up brat and a hate her. Let me sleep.
Tails looks sadly at his feet. Then he brightens.
TAILS: Maybe you said what you did because you haven't slept for three straight days!
SONIC (Muffled): Shut up! I hate you too. Leave me alone.
Tail's ears droop. Then they rise again.
TAILS: Maybe you said what you just did about me because you
Sonic kicks back the covers and screams
SONIC: GET OUT!
Shortly after he's left Amy eases her way inside the room.
AMY: Oh Sonic?
SONIC (Muffled): For the love of
AMY: You sure told off that jumped up brat today!
SONIC (Muffled): Hmph.
AMY: I just wanted you to know I support you 100%!
SONIC (Muffled): Hmph.
AMY: So you in need of another girlfrien
Mischief ClockMischief Clock3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Its name is "Itazura kurokku" meaning Mischief Clock.
The release phrase is:
"Turn the gears of pandemonium"
Most people ask why is a key a part of it, it goes with the theme basically, its a Clock/Gear/Key theme I'm going with. Basically Itazura kurokku, is a large key thats about 7 inches in height and 2 inches in diameter. Its clings on to the users reiatsu by using a little bit of reistu and can be controlled thought, seeing as it has no handle but the way the user uses it is just like a sword using slashing motions with his hands, it can reach about 5 feet away from the user giving it a larger reach. One of the ability's that Itazura kurokku is "Gear turner" it has the ability of channeling the uses reistu and hardening it to make that of a blade shooting from the tip of Itazura kurokku itself, the blade resembles that of a regular katana's blade 60 cm in length.
Another ability it has is called "Time" in which the blue orbs on Itazura kurokku light up. However it only
The Walking Gate - Ch 4The Walking Gate - Ch 48 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
(Note; the date above is when Anaya was found by The Order. Any records of Anaya's earliest accounts are non-existent or unknown)
Allow me to tell you the story of how we met Anaya, and the limited history that we have acquired of her. I will tell you; however, some of this information may not be entirely true. In events when ones brain is under a lot of stress or panic, one's mind can lock these memories away. In a way this allows one to continue on with their life for the benefit of their well-being…or for the benefit of another.
It seems to us as Anaya recalls, that her earliest memory when she came into our lives was a dark night somewhere in the vicinity of Hungry, near Constantinople. Here she remembers waking up on the cold ground near a large fire. An old woman in brown rags was sitting beside her, warming her hands. The wom
The Dog on the ChainThe Dog on the Chain9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
"Once upon a time, there lived a lonely and confused mutt of a dog."
He was chained to himself.
He had no way to chew through the cord.
He was trapped.
"It was hot. He wiped some sweat from his forehead with his paw, staring out the window into nothing. His vision blurred, he saw the bars that held him there inside himself."
He was looking to be free.
That's all he ever wanted.
A way out.
"Like a dog in a kennel, he paced around inside, waiting for someone to open the door. Every time he found hope, his tail wagging in anticipation, the one who held the key walked away again."
All he ever wanted was a way out,
To find an outlet that didn't shock.
To be free.
"As time passed, the emptiness inside the old dog filled him up, like hot air in a balloon; he was bound to burst. His fur faded with the burden of bottled feelings, his once golden coat shining no more. He was lost inside the darkness of himself, without a lantern of hope to light the way out."
There was something missing for him.
the Moist Pastthe Moist Past9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When the past swishes it's forgotten leaves,
we remember the moist colors we freed.
Gray or yellow, I cannot say –
they all rustled in the suns of day.
Family tickled up and down,
blanket together at our sounds.
Grass embraced our bouncing face,
perception heedless, affliction erased.
Captivity did flick us down it's throat.
Us, lathered to a ripened glow.
Vogue munched to lively clutter.
Wish of acceptance throbbed to flutter.
Now and Now – it singes me.
A sprinkle of youth is all we need. maybe then, we'll really be.
When time drapes us all behind,
what deader woes will we find?
Philosophy ExamPhilosophy Exam4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Philosophy exam question.