Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
×

Browse Emotional

Literature
Approaching
I thought I had finally gotten myself together.  I’ve dismissed my predictions of the future as a dysfunctional coping mechanism from my past, coming back to haunt me through dredging my sense of ignorant belief.  I’ve justified my current anxieties to myself as callbacks to a time I remember as simpler than now, and the symptoms I exhibit as nothing that can’t be solved chemically and verbally.  I thought I had whittled everything down to a personal sort of science.  It was verifiable and testable, and able to be explained in oral reports when prompted, spoken like academic journals are written and planned meticulously beforehand.
Those strings of words that came half-naturally and half-awkwardly from my throat are now absent for what I have “seen” for myself.  It’s coming, though.  I can feel it, and that is my only proof.  There is only my understanding.  There is nothing for anyone else, and nobody else cou
:iconLilyCelebi:LilyCelebi
:iconlilycelebi:LilyCelebi 0 0
Literature
Axiom of the Elements: Air
Axiom of the Elements: Air
I am Air. I am the gentle breeze.
I am the fierce storm. I am the most
unrestricted thing on earth. I move
without hindrance from anything, even
gravity. Suddenly, and without warning,
i will have slipped to, and past you.
I can be soft as feathers, and still as powerful as a full grown bull. And i am
everywhere, always. Wherever you move,
i will be there right beside you. I am
the substance of wings and wind. I am air.
:icon19SpaceCowboy91:19SpaceCowboy91
:icon19spacecowboy91:19SpaceCowboy91 0 0
Literature
Lifeless and Cold
The smoothed-down networks of silken, yellowish light comprise the Antarctic morning.  Every new hour, I can feel the masses awakening within the bounds of an invisible, jagged, erratic, makeshift latitude line, rising so high above their relative ground that they distort the space beneath me, inducing my pressured, clouded stupor.  A blizzard of stillness entangles my arms due to my lack of sleeves, for they were part of something that smelled foul which I cast off when it was morning in California.  I step forward, and, in exchange, shift my shoulders one millimeter forward from the abetting pull of a lonely ghost from the other side of the planet.  Giving in and giving out, I decide not to rebel against the strings embedded in my jaw, manipulated by paranormal hands.  Numbly, my head cocks left and right, allowing the light to amalgamate into silent, fiery spotlights, working to scatter the attention of an imaginary audience so much that they chatter and sni
:iconLilyCelebi:LilyCelebi
:iconlilycelebi:LilyCelebi 0 0