psyence-a-gogo's avatar
stay free my misery
16 Watchers5.2K Page Views241 Deviations
E
Empty rooms
In empty rooms vast quantities of nothing exists where no naked eye can observe the nothingness within. When lounging in another room or when a door just clicks closed nothingness erupts silent as a cacophony in those empty rooms beyond. And when a head peeks round a door (like a feather slowly drifting back down from a great height) there really is just nothing nothing happening in those empty rooms nothing happening within.
0
1
Oct 2010 ID
2
0
M
Melancholic
After my father died, life continued. Still, I was always taken aback by his terrible absence, marked so bitterly by the thick layer of dust that settled about the house. It lay in every corner, in deep slopes, and no amount of cleaning could unsettle it. And in a similar way, every time I listened to a piece of music he would have admired, or a book he would have recommended, he passed across my memory, and then I would simply think, Oh.   When I slept, he told me things. In my dreams he whispered secrets, but they were soundless for there were no more secrets. Sometimes, when at work or while shoe shopping or between mouthfuls at dinne
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0
Z
Zenith
There is a cerulean skyline that I look to when I wake up sad, with no one to explain this feeling to. There is something out there, between the dreams, that I need to understand. That outer limit, I don't ever reach it, but I want to. This won't last forever. I'm on my way.
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0
R
Recall
I hold my head in my hands and begin to think, attempt to recollect, the last, good, memory of you. Awaking   with your body still close to mine. Pretending to be asleep when I know that you are watching me. Running fingers through your hair and waiting for your happy-cat smile. All of them are decent thoughts, but nothing sparks. Nothing reminds me of that painful love that went away some time ago. I can only remember your excuses falling, brick-like, against my head and arguments burning, aching my failing love, erasing the last, good, memory of you.
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0
P
Pharos
All of my fires have been put out now, from the pyre of my heart to the ember of my eye. Once, dangerous flames travelled in my wake but all are subdued now. And I think: what use is a beacon without a reason to burn?
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0
H
Hindsight
Regret is hindsight's backbone, self-pity his creeping heart, and bone fingers that scratch as they work into your mind. Leering lips, empty eyes and crooked skeletal legs. He shadows behind waiting until he is needed until a moment of nostalgia pushes you back. Paranoia over past happenings is the poison that he seeps into you. And when he's finished he steps away again – but only for a moment.
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0
W
Womanism
After only so many days, An ache creeps into me. It is a balloon of pity, But simply for myself, mind. Such a furore stirs That in the time between, I am just a little girl, No need for rights here. I'll make you tea, I'll wear clenching dresses, I'll beg, cherish, plead. However, When we meet again, After only so many days, You'd be searching long To find these thoughts.
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0
O
Orison
Always look towards that giant blind horizon. Claw at it, keep going even when you are raw. Behind you lies every mistake you ever made, even the ones you hid. Hold onto that desire burning a chasm in your heart. Never pity your escape from the past. Never forget it either.
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0
See all
E
Empty rooms
In empty rooms vast quantities of nothing exists where no naked eye can observe the nothingness within. When lounging in another room or when a door just clicks closed nothingness erupts silent as a cacophony in those empty rooms beyond. And when a head peeks round a door (like a feather slowly drifting back down from a great height) there really is just nothing nothing happening in those empty rooms nothing happening within.
0
1
Oct 2010 ID
2
0
M
Melancholic
After my father died, life continued. Still, I was always taken aback by his terrible absence, marked so bitterly by the thick layer of dust that settled about the house. It lay in every corner, in deep slopes, and no amount of cleaning could unsettle it. And in a similar way, every time I listened to a piece of music he would have admired, or a book he would have recommended, he passed across my memory, and then I would simply think, Oh.   When I slept, he told me things. In my dreams he whispered secrets, but they were soundless for there were no more secrets. Sometimes, when at work or while shoe shopping or between mouthfuls at dinne
0
0
Z
Zenith
There is a cerulean skyline that I look to when I wake up sad, with no one to explain this feeling to. There is something out there, between the dreams, that I need to understand. That outer limit, I don't ever reach it, but I want to. This won't last forever. I'm on my way.
0
0
R
Recall
I hold my head in my hands and begin to think, attempt to recollect, the last, good, memory of you. Awaking   with your body still close to mine. Pretending to be asleep when I know that you are watching me. Running fingers through your hair and waiting for your happy-cat smile. All of them are decent thoughts, but nothing sparks. Nothing reminds me of that painful love that went away some time ago. I can only remember your excuses falling, brick-like, against my head and arguments burning, aching my failing love, erasing the last, good, memory of you.
0
0
P
Pharos
All of my fires have been put out now, from the pyre of my heart to the ember of my eye. Once, dangerous flames travelled in my wake but all are subdued now. And I think: what use is a beacon without a reason to burn?
0
0
H
Hindsight
Regret is hindsight's backbone, self-pity his creeping heart, and bone fingers that scratch as they work into your mind. Leering lips, empty eyes and crooked skeletal legs. He shadows behind waiting until he is needed until a moment of nostalgia pushes you back. Paranoia over past happenings is the poison that he seeps into you. And when he's finished he steps away again – but only for a moment.
0
0
W
Womanism
After only so many days, An ache creeps into me. It is a balloon of pity, But simply for myself, mind. Such a furore stirs That in the time between, I am just a little girl, No need for rights here. I'll make you tea, I'll wear clenching dresses, I'll beg, cherish, plead. However, When we meet again, After only so many days, You'd be searching long To find these thoughts.
0
0
O
Orison
Always look towards that giant blind horizon. Claw at it, keep going even when you are raw. Behind you lies every mistake you ever made, even the ones you hid. Hold onto that desire burning a chasm in your heart. Never pity your escape from the past. Never forget it either.
0
0
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Spotlight

M
Melancholic
After my father died, life continued. Still, I was always taken aback by his terrible absence, marked so bitterly by the thick layer of dust that settled about the house. It lay in every corner, in deep slopes, and no amount of cleaning could unsettle it. And in a similar way, every time I listened to a piece of music he would have admired, or a book he would have recommended, he passed across my memory, and then I would simply think, Oh.   When I slept, he told me things. In my dreams he whispered secrets, but they were soundless for there were no more secrets. Sometimes, when at work or while shoe shopping or between mouthfuls at dinne
0
0
Badges
Llama: Llamas are awesome! (2)
My Bio
Devious Journal Entry
DO NOT ADD ME TO MSN WITHOUT ASKING FIRST. it isn't a difficult request.
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TAGGED
courtesy of ~sjslack (https://www.deviantart.com/sjslack) ^__^ 1. Post these rules 2. Each person tagged must post 8 random (hopefully interesting) facts about themselves 3. Tags should write a journal of these facts 4. At the end of the post 8 more bloggers are tagged and named 1) i find it impossible to be a fan of the majority. if everyone else likes it, i cannot. i don't know why >.o; 2) i have 10 cats. but i could have more :3 3) my first ever ambition - when i was about 7 - was to be a writer. then when i was about 12 i wanted to be an archaeologist. then i came full circle and want to be a writer again. 4) my poetry takes about 5 minutes to write. i've honest
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Devious Journal Entry
i'm afraid it's back to using my LJ for blogging from now on. http://holy-falling.livejournal.com come visit me, maybe. PSYENCE :: OUT
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Comments64

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TheBuggiest's avatar
TheBuggiestHobbyist Writer
Hey, I'm glad you like my picture 'Resting'. :)
eMBeeL's avatar
:iconcheerplz:Thank you so much!:coffeecup::icongivemesmilesplz::coffeemachine::iconcheerplz:
EliSsHka's avatar
EliSsHkaHobbyist Photographer
Thank U for the fav :hug:
thenata's avatar
thenataProfessional Interface Designer
Hi random deviant! :w00t:
thenata's avatar
thenataProfessional Interface Designer
:D