I think this is hilarious. And kind of wonderful. Do you need a napkin to wash off the blood on your hands?
is everyone taking high school spanish at the same time or...
two sigs I made :v I've been watching too many hero movies lately. I really like the Captain America one. ||orz
commence the celebration at the time of update.
a short story in praise of the season of people giving away their pumpkin lattes they thought would be good but they ended up disliking. will update every week night until oct. 24th. ch. ☠ It came in the night, whispering and pleading and shaking your shoulders. Its voice was sharp, detached as if it wasn't really speaking but some horrific god was placing voices in your head. Dark fingers stroked your back, tickling and tingling the senses and it smelled like animal fur and musk. Like tar it pressed down on your chest threatening to keep you there, to confine you. There was no choice or semblance of one. You had to go - if only to stop the screaming ache of the Call. The lurking feeling of immortal and everlasting unhingedness threatening the man who resisted the Call dispelled itself only late the next evening as you stepped from your doorway. A small pack of supplies and a near-dead flashlight were the only things resting upon you besides the Call and the clothes loosely tethered about your body. Water bottle, matches, pocketknife, rope. Your parents wouldn't miss the items, no matter their true indespensibility. The sun was setting, a brilliant display of colour exploding across the sky then imploding into a single, piercing sun dipping below the horizon. A chill wind washed through you, rattling your thin bones through your jacket and jeans. ch. ⌚ The front of the house was hidden behind layers of forest and gnarled ravines slashing through the landscape. It had gotten darker, and you couldn't help chewing at your lips and grinding your chattering teeth. The closer you got the more compelled and sure you felt about entering. Wood steps and a worn exterior gave a blackening sense of words muddled and confusing but clear enough to tell you to leave and never come back but you couldn't resist the Call. Even bugs flooded through the cracks and crevices and broken windows, heeding the Call that clicked and clacked and scattered and scarred their tiny brains, not knowing that their fate was that of the post-executioned. An iron door knock smiled and laughed and cackled from its perch as you swung it, and the thick wood below groaned at the force. You shook at the desperate noise. No one answered, so you tapped the doorknob and the door ran open, pulling you in as your hand grasped the brass knob. You stared into the foggy glow of khaki walls and left-burning candles dripping wax from the ceiling only to find that the door had left your hold and was closed and the melting wax was melting ceiling lights sparking and smoldering on what they touched. A dizziness encased you, hugging and shaking you. The floor was sinking beneath your feet. You staggered through the quicksand back towards the entryway but - there was not a handle on this side. There was no way to get out but you scraped and scratched at the wood anyway, desperate for some escape like an agnosiatic claustrophobe caught in a cage and snarling and chewing steel bars. Floorboards splintered and stuck into your skin as you sink to your neck, bloody and trapped and banging what's left of your fists against the door. You close your eyes in fear, not ready to accept your fate but having hardly a choice and truly expecting your breath gone in a moment's time. But then a wondrous thing happened - it stopped. Your eyes flicker open and you see that you're not sinking but laying on the floor and your nails are busted and bleeding but the rest of your body remains unharmed and the hall - the hellish hallway - was as any other hallway, dim lights above and boring walls lining a narrow strip of floor, perfect straightness marred only by small tables here and there jutting out in wooden ataxia and displaying vases of flowers. Somebody had to be living there - the flowers were fresh and the lights were lit so brightly they had to have been just reset to new bulbs. However, though relieved, the mortification was too much for the thin raphe of your mind and like your breath had been stolen, you fainted strewn upon the ground. +END PART ONE+
censor me Spoiler i=fantasy Spoiler human after all Spoiler It's been a while since I've made sigs. I've started to dabble more into them though. Tried using more curves and a little bit of smudging on the last one. I really don't understand smudging. D: CnC rewarded with cold, computer-screen'd love. ❤
This is a slam/spoken word poem (hence the lack of standardized grammar etc.). I'll upload a sound file if I can tomorrow, but I'd like to put this up for concrit and comments. I'm performing it on the twenty-second so any help and improvement is appreciated. hey dad you know the feeling when you close your eyes at night when the monsters start rising taller their voices growing smaller through tunnels of black and white technicolor dream worlds puking constellations from smoky lungs a neon interpretation of everything amplified like grey lies somewhere between the truth and i don't want to hurt you you say you have tapes of your fights with my mother and you promised with her whoever cheated would lose so- what do you tell a judge about promises? they break flying dust in razor blade winds slitting skin and cutting eyelids from faces so that you can see so why can't you ****ing see? just open your eyes and look at what's in front of you i can show you the world: lipsplitting earshattering splendid through verses of sea floor melody and poetry flowing through my veins like the blood spilled at my birth standing before you i am a dollar sign another bill to pay more child support money and no they're not my type; i'd take you but you're too young a sickening pandora's box opened unleashed running afraid through gardens of forgotten infidelities and screaming excuses not to listen when i speak a thousand dollars is too much to pay to learn but another night at the bar and sunday football is a fortune of time you say you don't have time to spend i read you the stars from my eyes and the curl from my hair in prose of golden wine happiness and you say you'll see me next time around which could be weeks or months depending you don't go to graduation so you send flowers lillies white not tiger red that grew in our windowsills but white eggshells sheets good morning sunshine like you expect me to forgive you for not coming for not caring for not hearing when i spit beauty from my lips
because **** yeah i finally came out to both of my parents and step parents this is the best guys a happy life of open sexually ambidextrous intentions towards the human race ; - ; <3
Anyone else into it? Any performers/spectators/judges/etc? If you don't know what it is, here are some of my favourite pieces. All We Have What's Genocide Coded Language *note that some pieces say the f word lolol I'm a slammer, and I was just wondering if anyone else was into slamming/spitting/ciphering or any other variations.
true to his spelling and grammar: any GorillaZ song is QL and that raper that Was in that one V ideo. Mad Wrold, tonight tonight (hot cille ray), hound dog, Yes (LmfaoL party rock in, aint no rest for the Wicked,
Who wants me to draw them? I promise not to cheat and look at the pyp thread.
mfw khv tag on tumblr mfw two worlds one family starts playing while discovering these things
I have hiccups and can't leave for water WHAT DO?
I really kind of only told Plums this and just tonight but uhm basically I broke down and told my mother about some things I've been doing that I'd kept secret. To name names, cutting, purging, starving, homicidal thoughts, suicide attempts/suicidal thoughts I couldn't escape. Her solution is to send me to a therapist. I really, really would prefer not to go to one, mostly out of fear of being put on anti-depressants or other meds. I'm strongly against taking medicine that is so over prescribed. To keep from these medications, I'd like some thoughts and help with three main issues. 1. Distractions - I need to find distractions from suicidal/homicidal/harmful thoughts. They're nothing new, but I need to learn to be in control of them. 2. Focus - I need to find a way to focus better on my work such as homework. My grades are dropping because I can't focus on my work and it's adding to the stress that drives me to self-harm. 3. How to keep food down - This is kind of big. I'm far from skinny, but if you ever doubted it let me tell you that what they say about purging not actually helping you lose weight is true. I kind of want to learn how to better keep down food even if it disgusts me. I don't want more health issues than I have. It's at the point where I can't even watch people eating, and I spend lunch breaks and dinner time away from friends/family to escape food. Any help/suggestions would be greatlygreatlygreatly appreciated. </3
I can't do this anymore man I just can't Has anyone else played it? It's a Yume Nikki fangame but ooohhhsdkhak like 40000 times creepier.
A mostly quick fanfic I wrote, inspired by a friend in creative writing who was writing pokemon fanfiction :v ;; xxx Thin fingertips like lace incarnate calm him. He didn't even realise he'd been yelling. By her face he can tell she doesn't blame him, but he collapses into her arms againandagainandagain. Like some loop - you're already ****ing sick of it the first time through. While he sleeps you tie tiny nooses to your fingertips and hang them from starlight. She doesn't wake him, just watches you. Are they friends? Are they more complete than even that? You think so, but you're not sure. So you keep flirting like you've never seen a girl before. You have, of course, just never one like her. She's technicolor and wind and the taste of broken glass. Human, if you please. You take her to the Universe Room, show her the way the stars and the planets create the definition of the everything. She doesn't say anything, but she never really does. Her eyes are mirrors anyway. You hate how she sees you - the way you see yourself - but it's okay because her kisses are sunshine and her hair is a rough mane. Beneath comets and earth, dark matter and grey matter somehow are one and the same. Mass you can't account for. You hate how it comes out like that. N is just a variable in the grand equation. The weight of one extra atom sends the world as we know it into existence, but n can be high, low; positive, negative. You subtract yourself and see carnations blooming from the ball of your pointed pen, as if there is absolution for suicide. You've thought about that a lot, lately. The word singes the air as you hiss it to the rings of Saturn - "Suicide." Eventually you're standing between her and open air, wishing on a shooting meteorite that you could have been the prince in shining armor. That's his job, though, just like it's yours to be the bad guy. You suppose it's okay that way. Your mass can't be accounted for either way, so you step backwards over the ledge, smiling like the ******* you are and feeling the rush of wind against your back as you fall through technicolor skies lit by blinding sunshine, teeth gritting against broken glass as you're caught by the sea's rough mane. You see her leaning over the edge and reaching for you, and his arms are about her waist like he'll catch her if she falls. It's okay, even if it sickens you. You're just a variable - N. Dark matter, left behind in crushed velvet as eternities rest in infinitesimally tiny carnation petals of splotchy ink. Without the quantum uncertainty of weak knees and dark matter, and shielded by candlelight, you see tomorrow. Physics has no answer for your chest splitting but it's okay because even if you love her there's always tomorrow. Not the same tomorrow as today's, but still tomorrow.
it makes me want to rip apart whatever part of my brain let me do that. How on Earth was I understood? How did I live with myself? I feel that my past illiteracy gives legitimacy to my past suicide attempts. /not bloggin just sayin
Neku is just another Sora.
Please move if this is the wrong area. It's KH related so. ;; Also I know some of the chronology as far as the game goes is whack. It just sounded nice this way. Made for a project with making sedentary activities sound exciting. x, a chime at the twist of my fingers stairs of mulitcoloured glass fade beneath my feet as i sprint upward mosaic floor and silence converge the lightning-bug-lit tower rumbles a whirr between my hands and my blade enters them the darkside - heart shaped hole in its chest like someone's been playing cookie cutters on refrence sheets (again) it staggers forward, lazy, raw power dragging one enormous arm forth sliding left, i dodge it a dark pool opens beneath i sink in with one last swing of the keyblade have i lost? across the screen, gold plated letters kingdom hearts
But the question is who is he? ( ъ Д ъ)??
