LostI walk this desert, no stream in sight, my beliefs dead. With myLost4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
dreams far, I see mirages everywhere from what I could have
been if my morals still existed. From there I saw my old threats.
Soul for sale, it said.
That was hardly ironic. I had no use for it, and the predators
already made their bids, darkness staring me in the face. That's
alright. I've survived long enough, ready to fade.
Slowly, I kneel to the ground, the warmth of the sun thrown
away like an old rag. I knew, because all around me the desert
was burning. When you've lost everything, what could you do
but watch it turn to ash?
unfinished thoughtsi.unfinished thoughts5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
wake up. i can't stay long.
we are a series of fleeting moments that spell out "bad timing" and "tragic romance". you are broken machinery and i am still trying to decipher the binary code for love. ones and zeros collide into a lump in my throat and suddenly, the idea of saying goodbye makes my fingertips ache and my wrists burn.
do you remember when we kissed? it was a messy pile of metaphors and we were scared that somebody would see us and try to clean us up. i still ghost the back of my hand over my lips and imagine that it's yours, but then i remember that "yours" and "mine" are not words that apply to you and me anymore.
here are three things that i never tried to tell you (though i really should have):
you are so goddamn vain.
you look so beautiful from this angle.
we really are fooling ourselves.
here are two things that i told you everyday ( and that i probably should have told you less):
i love you so much more than you could ever comprehend.
i want to be with yo
The Gift Of HopeThe Gift Of Hope11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
In this world we call earth there is life and there is death. There is tragedy and there is hope. This is the story of how I came to know both.
Skies have turned dark and days stretch out longer then normal. I find my self at a place where I haven't been in some time. Death and pain has consumed these brown eyes. I find it sometimes hard to breath and even harder to smile. A magnificent soul, a beautiful human, and dear friend of mine is lost to the tragedies of life. All the tragic emotions of life have seeped in my body in these last few days. My heart grows tired and yet all I can do is weep and mourn for his death. With every ounce I hold left in my body I struggle to make way for hope. It is hard and yet it is a gift to know that hope still exist in such a time as this. For hope is the only chance I will have to live on with a smile.
It was a dark day for him as well. His world was silent and mean. He was fighting demons no one could see nor understand. He tucked himself away from
a letterdearest dear,a letter7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
there is a butterfly breathing its way out of you. there is a red & blinking button pressed to bear releasing. I am ever so sorry, but still collecting your colors. In the midst of apologies, still pressing your fragile frame to pages; special focus on forever. tomorrow, I will visit you inside your house. shortly thereafter, I will hide underneath your bed; making a nest of your blankets. the following morning, I will infiltrate breakfast disguised as a warm sip of tea.
that will become my favorite section, in retrospect. the part when you learned to call me "honey", honey. the part where I whispered and tickled your chin.
I hope this letter finds you well:
la la la-la love
Am I the only one to start the revolution?Is there really FUCKING NOONE besides me who wants to see all the shopping malls burning, politicians panicking, crowd starting riots out of nowhere, molotovs flying in the air, sirens... Ton of drugs and alcohol, but the most important thing - revolution. Revolution against EVERYTHING. Because we were bought, sold, packed in cheap plastic bag and handed out to every fucking person in the world. Because there won't be anything new anymore, because NOTHING EXISTS BESIDES POPCULTURE? Besides neverending copy-paste, copy-paste. Everything happened, everything was predicted. The idea of who you are and who You'll become was already invented and sold before you were even born!Am I the only one to start the revolution?9 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
I'M I THE ONLY ONE THAT WANTS TO BURN THIS FUCKING WORLD TO THE GROUND???
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 months 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.
NorthNorthNorth8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Which way is North?
On the Moon, which way is North?
On the Sun, which way is North?
In the center of the Universe, which way is North?
In empty space, which way is North?
Does the direction of North require a compass, or is it an abstract location based on the flow of events leading up to the decision to find North?
Does the direction of North depend on whose asking?
What is North?
What is my North?
What is your North?
I understand there is a Magnetic North and also a True North. If you want to find North with a compass it appears that the Moon, Planets and the Sun get involved with you and Earth so that the place where your compass takes you versus the place you were trying to find vary slightly.
Have you ever noticed when you try to accomplish anything involving say; your profession, your family, your friends or your art that the place where your journey takes you versus the place you thought you were trying to find vary slightly.
Funny how it seems the s
AugustLeaves were falling when you left.August11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Glazes Part 2Glaze Recipes Part 2Glazes Part 24 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Sharing a few formula's I use
all glazes are ^6 electric/oxidation
Floating Blue Revision 1
Nepheline Syenite 41
Gerstley Borate 17
Frit 3134 13
Red Iron Oxide 2
Cobalt Carbonate 1.5
presenting..."these songs shouldn't make me feel so sad."presenting...7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
said to myself, in between puffs of smoke
blown to wasps in my window. still, ever since
you started harvesting silence, my day-to-day details
have progressed to punishment ala prometheus.
skin unscathed, cloaking heartbreak daily.
chained to this rock, but sealed with a twist.
I'm eatin' up space and overcompensatin'. I've got
that bug-eaten junkie lovescratch itch. I've got them
shakes what jived (and shook from the inside).
oh no, I can't undo the pain in you.
this chip with boy ashoulder.
doin' time at the hotel. sickening
smile, carrying luggage. roots grown
deep & worsening breath.
you've got your own concerns
and I've just one of them...
dear, I fear I'm forever one word away from winning you.
Letters To RomeoLetters To Romeo5 years ago in Letters More Like This
I don't expect you to know me. Then again maybe you do. I do not know...I wonder sometimes weather you visit all the people that care about you...not only just the ones that knew you...maybe sometimes the ones that you never met? I have never had the oppourtunity. I was born too late...Both my siblings were alive when you were...I never had that chance. Of course then I think...If I was alive...how would I have handled your death?...much Like I handled Steve Irwin's I'd imagine...have you met him by the way? Wonderful man...I think Paul would like him...Anyways. I may have reacted like that...except I think it would have been much worse....For Steve I cried every night for about 3 or 4 nights...then I cried all over again when I watched his memorial service on the telly. For you...I don't know weather I would have been able to stop...Eventually of course I would...but even now, I was never alive when you were and i still cry for you...Everytime I hear Paul sing 'Here Today'.
on criticismi am aware that this site has it's own agendaon criticism5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
and it caters for the needs of it's adoring lama lovers
and thus the technical staff spend so much time feeding birthday cakes to hungry lamas that many bugs go unfixed
one of the biggest criticisms i have is that lamas should learn to blow out the candles before they eat them
Confrontation"You once said that you wanted to know what was going on. What was causing all of this" she swept her arm over the landscape in front of her, over the swarming mass of reanimated corpses that had congregated there. "The answer?" she laughed, a high tinkling laugh, "It's very simple. The answer, is me" And as she turned around, her eyes became daggers again. They reflect the light in strange ways, leaving a sheen of metallic silver and no trace of their original blue. I shook my head.Confrontation4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"This isn't you, Flora. This is far beyond what you- what any of us can do. This is a virus, spreading through the human race, or at least what's left of it. This isn't some silly girl try-"
"I said, it - was - me." I closed my mouth, and looked at the shell of what had once been Flora. "You may not be able to do anything beyond a small bit of healing. What? Can you heal a graze on your leg? Is that all you can do?"
"I can stop a bullet, you-" she laughed again.
"A bullet! Is that honestly the best you can
MYSTJakeMYST4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Growing up in Las Vegas is probably the most difficult thing a teenager can endure. I mean, it is the crime capitol of Americacrime and kids don't exactly mix. The easiest way I can describe it to you is like a glass containing oil and water: the two substances don't go together without mixing them; and I don't intend to become a criminal.
For some reason, you never get used to the blinding glare of the neon signs outside of almost every single building, or the prostitutes walking the streets, not the constant honking of vehicle horns and angry screams of tourists and citizens, or the never ending, earsplitting shrieks of police sirens.
You don't even get used to the gunshots outside your window at night.
You're uneasy when you go out in the day, terrified when you go out at night, andif you're like me, anywayyou often sneak into bars and casinos with your fake I.D.'s and nobody takes a second glance at you. You can do anything you want in Sin City, believe it or