Scars and Chocolate Bars. M sat in a small, lonely hotel room burrowed into the heart of downtown Tokyo. He perched himself upon the bare mattress, the sheets in a clumsy pile at the foot of the relatively small bed. As he sat, bent over as he clutched his bleeding hands to his chest, his eyes remained closed. He had not yet found the strength mental and physical - necessary to open them again.More Like This
He knew he needed help. His wounds were bad. On his hands he had third-degree burns, and plastic shards embedded deep into his flesh from the pipe bomb which had ironically saved his life. Although that didn't mean it hurt more into the large section on the left side of his face which had been severely burned. M narrowed down the possibilities, and knew he was going to die from infection if he didn't get any support.
But he felt nothing short of forsaken. M calling for help? Impossible. Matt was the one that called him
Would you do the same for me?I would bleed an eternity for you,More Like This
yet would you do the same for me?
You ask me if you should stay,
when I wish you would tell me you want to.
At times your mind seems so far away,
why can't we start again, become like new?
It becomes so hard just like today,
sometimes it's like you have no clue.
I would do anything to make you happy,
yet would you do the same for me?
Withstanding this hurt for a hope that seems so far away,
when you just make countless hurtful mistakes.
I wonder if you care the way I do,
the way your friends are like your glue.
You put them before your flickering love,
yet would they do the same for you?
"I'll never do it again", is what you say.
My heart bleeds now for you,
am I tortured enough to finally say adieu?
My heart of hearts is cracking, about to shatter,
the once burning fire now turning into a dim ember.
Am I forced to be a withering dweller?
Having my heart feel like it's been crushed with a hammer?
I would patch up your failing heart, baby,
yet would yo
What I Learned at SRU -88- (Part 1)More Like This
A/N: First of all, if you haven't yet, you might want to consider re-reading chapter 1, or at least the first part of it, as the story has an extended intro that includes a scene portraying the night of Jet's death from Jane's perspective. Sorry this chapter is taking so long, guys. Lots of writer's block and other internet stuff keeping me occupied. The rest of this chapter is almost done, should be up this weekend. That said, progress on SRU artwork and Esteemed commissions has been going splendidly. SRU reached a milestone of 200 total artworks made this past week (though not 100% are uploaded to DA yet). You can always follow all updates on either project through the FB pages (probably the most concise way to follow every update). Links down in the description.
What I Learned at SRU
Chapter 88 - Choices
- Friday, April 22nd, 2011 - Last day before Spring Break
Korra's heavy steps thumped down the stairs, her sluggish movements like that of a zombi
ATLA - Tyzula: Stupid FlowerStupid FlowerMore Like This
Azula was frowning more deeply than she'd ever been seen doing so before, and her grip was knuckle-white. Ty Lee pursed her lips at this, confusion evident.
Suddenly the bouquet of flowers that Azula held so tightly to thrust forward, nearly colliding with Ty Lee's chest. Azula's expression further darkened as Ty Lee began to laugh. "They're for you!" she spat, and Ty Lee regained her composure well enough to take them, smiling brightly at Azula.
"It's so funny when you're actually flustered!" she said, and then held the flowers up to her face, sniffing lightly. "But thank you," she whispered, "they smell nice."
"They'd better," Azula replied, crossing her arms, "they were a lot, just for stupid plants. Why do you like flowers so much?"
"They're pretty, and they smell nice~" Ty Lee swooned, "and their auras are so gentle!" Azula quickly scoffed at that loudly, glaring at the flowers as if they'd done her wrong.
"Fire looks and smells better," she said proudly.
Dammit, I love youI know this was for me. I know that your anxieties became mine and that we agreed this was for the best, for my own good. It stings. I know that sometimes it tore so deep when you were sad how will this be any different? and I know that there was some distance between us because of that, but dammit I love you and it seems to BURN not being with you and I know I can talk to you because you're my friend, but without you I feel dried out from the heat in the center of me.More Like This
It's strange, because everything but my heart is literally hurting. My throat has become my center of pain and I can't verbally utter what I feel. Every time I try it's like pulling a string out with hooks catching my intestines and lungs. I feel thirsty, but I don't want to drink. I either feel like not sleeping at all or doing nothing but sleep. I can't enjoy food.
oh god this just doesn't seem worth it, why are we doing this?
Right now I don't want anyone else and from the bottom of my hear
AndrewI love youMore Like This
Why can't you see
You"re the only one
I need you
More than you'll ever know
Whenever you're near
My heart starts to sing
We were perfect harmony
You always told me you loved
Then she came
And I lost sight of you
Her flirty charms
She has pushed us farther apart then I have ever known
And when you realize what damage has been done?
I'll be standing on the cliffs edge
Holding the gun
So close yet so far
Your love can never save me
Ink and Broken Windows.Let's terrorize these Angels.More Like This
Let's write upon these walls.
Let's bleed all over the floors.
Let's lament across these pages.
Let's rebel throughout the church.
Let's smile to the moon and keep our backs against the sunlight.
Let's show the world what we can do.
Let's dance among these shadows.
Let's cover up our innocence.
Let's forget about this true pain.
Let's linger and reminisce.
Let's break the souls of the heartless.
Let's forgive and never forget.
Let's let our tears fall among these piano keys.
Let's smile to cover up our scars.
Let's be happy to have each other.
But let's be sad we've lost a few.
Let's live without regrets.
Even if we have been bad.
So I write across this piano.
Drenched in all our tears.
I look back upon the tears and laugh.
I look back upon the laughs and tear.
Time's DestinyTime's DestinyMore Like This
Mia stared at her dark wall; her quiet crying was muffled but the deafening roar of the war machines outside. The war was a war between two rival countries. In the process, Mia's proud town was depleted to a deprived, empty war area. Mia's anger only increased, as her family and friends were taken from her one at a time. Now the loneliness and sadness flowed inside her like a waterfall. Her mother was finally taken from her, in the first raid from their rivals. That first attack left not only the town destroyed but Mia's heart too. Now Mia was alone, completely alone, and she blamed everything on herself. Mia lulled herself to sleep, though she felt as if sleep was erasing her very existence.
Mia walked slowly though the remaining shops of the town. She gazed at the chain link fence that guarded the edges of the town, with the men and their machines stationed there. The unbearable roar still echoed through the streets. Her eyes traveled to the grey, poisoned sky, and Mia
Is she Mary Sue? Clarifying Mary SueMore Like This
So, I realize that everyone has heard of Mary Sue characters, but the thing that bothers me is that Mary has never really been as clarified as she could be. Girls go around crying Mary Sue at every character with long pink hair, then go and create even worse Mary Sue characters in the false illusion that they're making nonMary Sue characters (or even anti-Sues) when in fact they're doing the opposite. Allow me to explain how this seems to happen.
First of all the term "Mary Sue" desperately needs to be clarified to these people, so this brings us to the very important question: What IS a Mary Sue?
At least everyone can agree on one thing. Mary Sues are characters that are so perfect it's annoying.
But. What do they mean by perfect? Everyone has different ideas of that, naturally. Unfortunately, this is how many fanfiction (and other) writers make their biggest mistakes.
When you hear the name Mary Sue what pops up in your mind? A be
MOST COMMON CLICHES IN STORIESMore Like This
Crazy, psychopathic, murderer ladies
Sexy, butt-kicking girls
Depressed emo/goth/always-dresses-in-black types
The brown-haired girl with no personality
The mean, popular, snobby girl
Unreasonably cruel bullies out to make life harder for the main character
The best friend (if they were a good character who *happened* to be a best friend they wouldn't have to be described as this)
Fun fact: Making victim OCs is cliche
Another fun fact: how someone dresses is NOT their personality
Yet another fun fact: People who claim to be random really are not and they know it.
Super bonus fun fact: A character's breast size need NEVER be stated. The end.
Super de duper bonus fun fact: Please, spare us the paragraphs on what the character looks like. It is a story, not a fashion show. A few sentences with mentions of hair color or other select features you find necessary to point out(KEYWORD: NECESSARY) are perfect. After all, how
And I'd Do It Again.A faint laugh from the other side of the door, the sound was sweet and utterly devine to M's aching ears. If he hadn't moved before she opened the door, he would have melted onto the carpet.More Like This
So there the two stood. L, looking professionally captivating in a plain gray suit and pants. Her hair was dimly illuminated a monotone shade of pale gold from the faint lights in the hallway, which quickly faded as she shut the door behind her. M came close to stumbling as he realized he was staring and quickly took a step back, forgetting about the furniture which had inhabited the room before he.
Her crimson stained lips which had been perfectly placed in a smile diffused, leaving nothing but a shocked expression which covered her entire face.
"M..Mello, what on earth.." She whispered breathlessly, her eyes widening as if he'd grown a third head. That was when he remembered why she'd come. This wasn't a ble
MagicI was online recently; browsing articles on Wikipedia when I stumbled across the page for magic and could help but stopMore Like This
See, I noticed that somewhere between the factual account of magic used in Pagan rituals and the in depth analysis of psychosis in magic users, that we kind of lost the point
Science and society would have you believe that beyond games of D&D and the parlor tricks performed at your nephew's birthday parties, magic isn't real
That all the connectivity we once had with nature has withered off to some unseen corner to die like that raccoon you hit driving home a week ago
Well I got news for you
When they said that magic has faded from this world, they lied
I've found it, still lying between the hours of the sun and moon
Clinging to dawn and dusk like shadow
Bouncing between every star and comet in the sky
It lives within every breath of a new born child
Sticks to their first words like it was stitched
Shimmers inside the eyes of every pair of lovers
Waits - on the pages
Day 19: To the little thingsDear little things,More Like This
Ohhh how you've gotten me through things. It has been the little things, that give me hope. The light at the end of the tunnel. The love in life. The bright shudder of smiles they give me. The laughter that follows. And of course, the important people I've met and learned from.
Where do I start?
Thank you for always showing me the brighter side of life. God, or whoever is sending them my way, to block out the negative thoughts I've been having.
Like today. Horrible day. I tell this guy who has similar problems "I swear I'm just destined to kill myself." His reply? "Well Shaelie, just know that you don't want that. You have so much to live for. And you have friends who love you, and would certainly miss you." "Thank you (:" "Hey, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."
The rock I carry every single day, to remind me I've been through worse.
The old man walking his dog every evening with a smile, even though its freezing out.
The feeling of accomp
Broken Spell - Card Deck Collab - Update 07/22/10by ~cusonMore Like This
Order now: http://jisuk.deviantart.com/journal/33894983/
Edit 07/22/10: Wow! Sorry about the huge delay in this project. Thesis hit me like a ton of bricks and I didn't have a single spare second to devote to anything else. We wanted to let you all know that the ordering website is 99% set up and we just need to finalize a couple of details before the decks are on sale. Orders will begin sometime in the NEXT FEW DAYS and will end on Aug 31. After Aug 31 it will be impossible to ever order these again, so start saving those dimes! Keep an eye out for a journal update from me very soon. Thanks, everyone!
Edit 12/21/09: So it looks like these won't be ready for Christmas. The website is all ready to go, I just need to put together all of the stories in some kind of .txt form. I wish I had the time for this, but my thesis is kicking my butt and I won't be able to do it anytime soon. If anyone would like to volunteer to help me put together all o
the science of usacceleration = gravitational pull / massMore Like This
You didnt send my heartbeat into a frenzy the first time I saw you. It was a month or two before I started feeling the little palpitations inside my chest and made sure that my hand accidentally brushed against yours every now and then.
(I wanted to make sure you got used to the feeling of my atoms colliding with yours.)
I told myself it was stupid and simply physical. You werent pulling my heart strings, you were toying with my belt buckle by smiling at me across the room and asking me to spend time with you on a Saturday afternoon. I was sold by the time you pulled into my driveway and my name slipped from between your lips.
(Sweaty palms and twisted vocal chords told me no one said it quite like you.)
I promised myself this was strictly a one-way thing. I feigned like I felt nothing, and in my nervousness I became the witty jackass. You laughed at my barbed-wire jokes and sped through a red light while I was watching
The Importance of Gold FlecksHereditary.More Like This
I learned the meaning of the word when I was young on a summer afternoon. Too hot to play outside, I was sitting with my dad on our blue couch with the small white polka dot fabric. In retrospect, it was probably a tacky piece of furniture, but love is unconditional when you are small, and I sure did love that couch. I remember my dad watching Winnie the Pooh with me every Saturday morning on its spotted cushions. That day, though, we had a conversation about eyes that I never forgot, and even then, its deeper meaning was not lost on me.
"Daddy, your eyes are green like a cat's," I said.
He smiled, and told me that mine were also green, but unlike his, they changed colors. "Sometimes they are blue. Your eyes were so blue when you were a baby! Big and blue.... Someti
GolemWe remember when you dug us from the riverbank, but we forgive you. The water was cold and the people had need of us.More Like This
We remember when you divided and shaped us, but we forgive you. We were without form and the people had need of us.
We remember when you put us in flames, but we forgive you. We were soft and the people had need of us.
We recall the day when you sent us against swords. This we forgive. The people had need of us: we would not desert them when foes were near.
We remember when you broke us with hammers. Even this we forgive. The battle was won, and the people had no more need of us.
But though shattered, we remained on the hillside, for no people came to sweep the shards away. This too we forgive, for our eyes remained littering the ground and it allowed us to see.
We saw you crowned and we rejoiced though our own heads were shattered. We saw rings on your fingers and we applauded though our own hands were lost. We saw robes on your shoulders and we were glad, though our o
my howls are silentI, too, see the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. We are decomposing too early, our souls dying before our bodies can catch up. We are silently ravenous, a quiet craze in our hearts, not quite the same as your generation, Ginsberg. We do not shriek "Holy! Holy! Holy!" as we burn. We drown soundlessly.More Like This
The overeducated, proud products of postmodernism dissolve in a lukewarm soup of ennui, bored balloons filled with hubris rather than helium. Fragile dolls with flaking bones and hair and skin like flowers wilting, weighed down by indomitable wills and insecurities... these plastic girls starve to death and diabetes in the car beside me, fantasizing about food in the passenger seat. Former nymphets gouge symbols into themselves, the bleeding crags physical outlets for the demonic depression, for the memories of beloved older brothers molesting them in the living room, while her mother sits at a hospital bedside beside a fading father.
I see the most remarkable minds crippl