Pursuit of the truth - part 7Pursuit of the truth - part 72 years ago in Drama More Like This
We appeared just in time. I was so happy that I trained to use Sonido I wasn't sure if I should, but I'm so happy I did, because it was Sonido which allowed us to rescue the sister from the mad old man. Kichiro tells me something about Ayaka,but I almost don't hear it. I simply said the short phrase that he looked after her. Why do I try to catch a sight of someone? I ran here with such causeless confidence that I will see the father.
"Katsuro! Above!" - the wounded brother shouts to me and points a finger in the sky. I turn and see him. One short look is enough for to me recognize this silhouette.
He is so helpless now, hanging in there, at height with hands stretched to it's limits. It seems, I expected to see him like this. He wasn't that powerful Arrancar which known by everyone for such a long time. Quickly I look back on the bastard who has kidnapped Ayaka. But thoughts about father don't leave my head.
"I can't feel his reiatsu at all. Is he
LucyHey Lucy, I remember your nameLucy4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When they had first met, Natsu had called her so many different things. He had forgotten her name easily in the beginning, but after a while her name was all he could think about. He remembered her every movement from the way she swayed her hips when she walked to the way that she only used her left hand to wipe away her tears. Yes, Natsu remembered her name and he remembered everything about her.
I left a dozen roses on your grave today
Roses were her favorite. Natsu had learned this after he followed her one day and found out that she had been caring for a rose bush in the park that had been ignored by everyone else. When confronted about it, she had blushed in that cute way and told her teammate that she thought roses were beautifully sad flowers. Their beauty made you want to hold them in your hands, but when you tried their thorns hurt you. It was at that point that Natsu started viewing Lucy as his rose; she was the most beautifu
Angels and Demons Chapter 22Chapter 22Angels and Demons Chapter 221 year ago in Drama More Like This
Orihime took a shaking breath, “Tsuruga?”
The two Shinigamis stared at her, their faces bearing identical expressions of confusion. Grimmjow however had sprung to his feet, his demeanour watchful. Unaware of her companions’ reactions Orihime smiled through the joyous tears brimming in her eyes and walked towards Ulquiorra. She had taken but a couple of steps when a hand grasped her elbow tightly. Expecting it to be Ichigo, she spun, a verbal diatribe ready on the tip of her tongue but to her intense surprise, it was Grimmjow who was holding her.
“Don’t go near him,” the blue-haired hollow warned.
“What? Why? He finally remembers…”
“And that is the problem,” he muttered, his sapphire eyes fixed on the Vasto Lorde who stood completely unmoving, his wings and tail folded and his head bowed. His hands hung limply by his side. So still was he that one would be forgiven if they thought him to be made of ston
Love was my mistakeWhat hurts me the most,Love was my mistake2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is the fact that I care.
I care so much,
My heart breaks.
The pain in my chest will never go away,
Never, until my dying day.
My dearest love, how could you go?
Leaving me here to die alone.
I loved you so,
Yet it wasn't enough.
If you told me so,
I could change.
I lived off of lies,
The lies that I once believed.
I guess that it is no use anymore,
I have figured out my mistakes.
Who was once my true love,
I shall never forgive you,
Not after what you have done.
Yet life must go on,
With you here or not.
I won't let it kill me,
I know what it's worth.
The lies you fed me,
Day after day.
Yet you still say,
I'm the one to blame?
I'd rather think not,
As I know the truth.
I knew I was wrong,
For ever loving you.
FatherFather, forgive me my transgressionsFather4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Against thy infallible will;
To thee I offer this last confession,
So that my penitence I may fulfill.
Father, remember our sacred unity,
Bear it in your mind well,
Bless me once more with your impunity,
Or send me to the darkest hell,
Where from the fires I shall beg for immunity
And hopelessly wonder whence I fell.
Father, thy tainted memory remains,
Imbued within my fading recollections;
Your heartfelt smile which pains
And your empty vows to make inflections.
Father, the trauma you inflicted lives,
Embedded deep beneath this unbroken flesh;
To these eyes a funereal gleam it gives
And with your static image it does mesh.
Father, your words did not fall on turned ears,
But fell instead on a heart of porcelain,
And your threats still are sonorous after all these years,
Like broken records piercing naked skin;
Your name alone gives rise to a surfeit of fears,
Haunting forever the dreams of your kin;
That grand dissipation replenishes dried tears;
In Honor of EasterI surrender myself to You!In Honor of Easter5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I cry out to You!
There is no greater gift on this earth
Than what You have given us!
And You gave us Your life
And if You did not die upon that cross,
My heart, my soul would be lost.
Message From God~Message From God~Message From God5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I look out over the world from my balcony
Watching the Earth, reveling in the beauty of this creation
I see the plains and the mountains
Deserts and oases
Cities and single cabins in the middle of nowhere
Beggars and millionaires
Newborn babies and elderly victims of Alzheimer's
Humans and animals
Creatures and nature
I watch as the rivers tumble over cliffs into blue, blue lagoons
As plumes of smoke drift ominously into the sickly gray sky
As little children bring carefully sought-after butterflies to their mothers
As warriors fight for a cause which seems to be lost after such long wars
As a doe nuzzles her fawn, a bird feeds her chick, a lioness cleans her cub
As smog fills the lungs of young asthmatic children
I see everything and feel everything
The joy, sorrow, and anger
The love, fear, and hope
I see all this like so many colors splashed on a canvas
Forming life as a painting
And I would gather it in my arms
Crush it to my heart
Soak it all in and he
ghostI break once moreghost3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
threadbare strands collapsing
no longer able to bear the strain
of being held taut.
My fabric is but gauze
there is not substance enough
no sound can be held within
and none deign listen.
Their mocking wrath
they have no temper for mirth
I am a jester kicked to the trough.
Would I wail that I could
and match my mourning to this shroud
my lament goes unheeded,
the veil of my eyes lifts to nothing but spectres.
Shoot FirstIt's been awhile since I saw you last, Void, my good friend.Shoot First4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Always taunting me, or, well, that is when you can sneak in the side door. I love it when you're away for extended vacations.
See, I wanted to have some time to myself. Have a good energy flow, rebuild the fortifications. The ramparts are still down from when you exploded my world. The rubble was almost all picked up, dusting the cobblestones, the flag waving from the high turret.
You send in your cohort to attack and prod, to needle me when my defenses are low, send the ashes of every emotion scattering to the wind, leaving only the sorrow. You trampled the delicate spring flowers, leaving muddy fibers in your wake. Void, I don't want to join you this time, and take your visions of wrist-slicing with you.
I'm replanting the flowers, with nettles. Leave me alone while the shoots are growing.
Little FootholdsLittle FootholdsLittle Footholds5 years ago in Open More Like This
I write my words in pen
- in pretty colors to illuminate my emotions.
with hope that they won't disappear.
- like wisps of smoke blow away by a simple wind.
I spend my life with consciousness
- never to stop thinking.
in constant, cold retreat.
- hiding my thoughts in this thinned book.
So much time spent 'elsewhere'
-I just found the book again today.
hardly any time spent 'here'
-I had to smile at the memories written within.
Without these little footholds
-It's good to remember
I would only have defeat.
-to appreciate what I still have
Wish: Part 1Author Notes: I find I must make this author's note about this fic for various reasons. Those of you who have read my other stories know that I normally don't do this within the fic unless I feel it is VERY important. And to me this is...Wish: Part 15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I have come to find that some of my KH fics don't really fit into the 'time-line' laid out by Square Enix. 358/2 Days pretty much tells that a lot of things happen in merely the span of about one week after Roxas' 'birth'. But for the sake of our love of the Organization let's pretend that these aren't literal days. Let's pretend they were together far longer than they were allowed. I try to keep things according to the facts, and you know I try to keep everyone in character... but on this one point... let's turn a blind eye. Call it slightly AU if that helps ^_^
I also have been playing with Namine's background, since I haven't finished the latest game I
A Synesthete in the GrayA Synesthete in the Gray4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'm drifting lazily upon a thick, silver mist, face-up and looking into the bright sky. All I see is various shades of gray and white rolling overhead, there's no blue today. It's a very calm color, gray. It's as calm and silent as the mist upon which I'm floating. That sounds a bit redundant, I know, but so's the sky!
I turn my head to the right and see nothing but silver meeting white. Same for the left. Snore.
My white, satin pajamas blend almost seamlessly with the rest of the world; I'm just a floating head with hands and feet. Wow, I can't even tell in which direction I'm floating, or whether I'm moving at all! Does that make any sense? Also, can you comprehend that as I am verbally speaking, silence is all that is heard all around? I could scream for you.
Would you listen for me?
This mist is starting to feel cold. It's tickling my cheeks... all four of them, ha ha. The satin nightie isn't helping, either. I'm starting to shiver due the cold pressure on my spine, my
TestimonyLet me begin by saying that in my lifetime not everything has been peachy however I feel that I have too much to say and not enough time to cover everything. My parents are divorced but both have encouraged me to seek after God and both parents are happily married to other people now. I have been going to church on and off my whole life I still remember the first verse I ever learned. John 3:16 For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son for whosoever believeth in him shall not perish but have eternal life.Testimony5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
This being said I never really spent much time on even thinking about whether or not God was real until I was about 20 years old when a friend of mine gave me a book called the Celestian Prophecy, I still think its a great book but I cant remember the author at this time. I did a lot of drugs and drinking, I do need to add this I am drug free and alcohol free for some years now, during these younger years of my life. Anyhow I read this book and thought about the fact th
stillmy love costs ten cents a minutestill6 years ago in Other More Like This
I try to call any time
But the connection fee
trumps the meandering hellos
and goodbyes remaining distinctively
lost in some static ridden dark
Over-hidden hallway's experience watching me
bleed words into your
mouth like dark meadows
closet park lines
filled with, and tainted
thought and inflection
pyrrhic victorypyrrhic victory3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
relationships need autonomy
demands, dependence, expectations
this far and no further
one euro buys only one pastry
shift the goal-posts
so too varying pace of negotiations
internal, external, mutual
evolution is individual
joint ventures are unsustainable
neither want them dead
nor as they are
HiakuHiaku5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
It's not like I know,
What the hell you are about,
Just get off my lawn.
Thirteen StepsHe hadn't been home in days, choosing instead to wander aimlessly through crowded streets and empty parks from sunup to sundown before crashing fully clothed and with an empty stomach onto his office couch at the opposite end of the city. But wandering around only works for so long before you realize that the keys in your pocket are your own, and it was on this day that he chose to stagger in from the afternoon heat.Thirteen Steps5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The lights were off and the shades were drawn. Obviously no one was home, but apparently someone had been there recently after doing a bit of cleaning. A faint hint of lemon and cleaners wafted in front of his face as he paced around the tidy living room. To the left, he could see a small entryway leading to the brightly lit kitchen, and along the back wall could be seen a door leading to a small bathroom. Between the two passages was an array of packed bookshelves and several neat stacks of coloring books and magazines. And adjacent to all of this, a flimsy flight of stai
Cry To MeIf you're hurting, they say "don't cry".Cry To Me4 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
But they are wrong.
Not to cry is an illness, if not now, it will be.
The wet crescent of a tear shivers at the edge of your dewy lid.
It wants to escape, knowing nothing of the torrent just at its heels,
of an overarching sorrow that cannot easily be healed.
The malleable property of clothing does not let me know how absorbent it may be
at any given time, but lean into me with your tears.
I can give you my shoulder, give you me.
I am something soft to lean on.
Let the monsoon of your soul begin
let the continent of water wash the land anew
The fertile beginnings of a land free of debris
Dry, save that first tear, alone soaking the radiance of the sun.
A prism, exploding a million hues all over this fresh country.
This kingdom, is you.
Lovers in the MakingThey sit in a coffee shop, with snowflakes licking at the windows, begging to be let in and to glorify everything with their crystalline glaze.Lovers in the Making6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She sits with perfect posture (at her mother’s prodding), her teeth white against cherry red lips parted in a smile as she laughs pleasantly at something he’s said. A delicate hand rests against the side of her coffee mug, grateful for the warmth between her fingertips, whilst the other traces the rim absentmindedly. She is too distracted by hazel eyes and charm to notice.
He gestures wildly with his hands, as he falls more and more in depth with his story, captivating he’s sure, more than himself. He pauses momentarily, to sip from his hot chocolate, the sweet warmth caressing his throat and then exhales in appreciation. He catches her eye, encouraging him to continue with his story. He leans closer, placing his left elbow (making sure to push his shirt sleeves up first, of course) on the smal
"undercurrent""undercurrent"11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ollie was beneath a raincoat-yellow fountain. It was spurting water in all directions like a liquid umbrella. His hair was pasted to his forehead, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of bright blue swim trousers with sharks on them. He loved sharks. That was why, his mother always explained, he liked to bare his teeth savagely in pictures, so much that his eyes seemed to be devoured by his cheeks.
There were bleachers because of the kids taking lessons. Gerald seated himself on the top and watched Ollie raise his palm up to feel the water. He stretched so freely, like soft taffy being pulled. His ribs shown lightly through his healthy peach skin.
Ollie didn't like the actual pool, though. Even the shallow end was too much. He didn't know how to swim and of course Gerald could not teach him, having forgotten himself. Ollie was content enough with the whirly-gig fountains and the artificial shore of the wave-pool. It was supposed to look like sand. Ollie probably thought that all sand
Wanderlust WanderlustWanderlust5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sirens sing of bluer skies
and more exotic flowers than these,
something new to see and smell.
And what freedom a bird has!
The ability to come and go
as he pleases.
I say, "What's the price?"
And here I am, stuck in a hole
hearing ballads of far away places,
listening to scathing lies,
most unlike my cherishable dreams.
I'm led to think that making
good memories can be profitable,
but only to those who cherish them.
"From where do memories come?"
Yes, traveling through life while standing still,
That's a reality for me.
The breakout will never happen,
but I can dream, can't I?
I want more.
Impossible StairsA beautiful woman,Impossible Stairs4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Have we already met?
I thought that we did,
That's what I don't get.
An unfamiliar face.
Silence; your hearts race.
Have I felt this way.
Where would I be,
Without That Day?
Who really knows,
Who really cares?
Run or walk,
Sink or swim.
You smile softly,
At my shit-eating grin
paedophiliapaedophilia3 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Paedophilia is perhaps the most reviled crime in today's West. It needs to be looked at as
- part of the healthy western tradition of publicly addressing so-far-under-the-carpet social pathology and devising policy measures to correct it - like women's subjugation and homosexuality earlier
- part of the prevailing western social paranoia and
- part of power-powerless equation
Church and Paedophilia
Paedophilia came up in public discourse recently with the baring of catholic church-pederast connection. This practice is an old 'tradition' but started getting exposed since the '90s. Children under the watch of the church were molested sexually and repeatedly during school-trips or special meets or voluntary work at a local parish.
The victims of pedophilia, now in their 40s and 50s are speaking only now possibly due to diminishing of the stature of church in society. It is estimated that between 1950 and 2002 in six states of the USA alone more than 10,000 children were
Everyone DiesI stood on the bridge from one side of town to the other. Cars raced by me, artificial lights tracing illusory paths. I had stood there for at least an hour, my shirt collar unbuttoned, my tie discarded. The tears had stopped for a while as I stared at the river far below, so black, an abyss awaiting me. I am no coward. This was not easy. It was when I started to climb over, when I was finally about to jump, that was when he put his hand on my shoulder. I have no idea how he got so close.Everyone Dies1 year ago in Philosophical More Like This
I remember turning to him, trying to tell him to get away from me, but his grip was so strong, and his eyes... His eyes were fierce, like the eyes of a wolf. He spoke to me over the din of the traffic, never breaking eye contact.
‘Everyone dies. The question you have to ask yourself is this: Have you truly lived? What you have right now, life, what a precious gift. The things you could experience, the depths to which you could know yourself, to which you could feel and understand deeply and prof