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I Wish You Were Dead
And you're the memory I can't shake, the one ghost that I can't seem to out distance. The hurt from your absence I can't fake, a hollow space in my soul for remembrance. Sometimes I guess I wish you were dead, because then I could logically say why you're gone. But your memory weighs on me like lead, and I wish I could say I was done. That one memory you left to haunt, sad to say it's the only one in my possession. It's there like a taunt, and it's a sweet memory that leaves me with an odd obsession. Something so pretty, shiny and golden, a lie to an innocent child. A clawing memory of days so olden, a memory that sparks longing so wild.
And yes, I wish you were dead, so I could logically say why you're not here. I wish I could get that memory out of my head, but it's going to stay I fear.
Yes, I wish you were dead, dear old Dad.
On A Midnight Drive
The tempests toss...but with a single word they can be still...and in the peace finding solitude and comfort...release... Let us together strive to be perfect beings. Even if that means we become something more than human. Transcending humanity perhaps could be a blessing...to forget pain and regret...to have something more...something of a little more merit. Something greater than fate, or the cards life dealt to devastate...
Dive with me away from the confusion, maybe reality is an illusion. Come away with me into the silence of night…away from the painful blight. Come away with me tonight…on a midnight drive.
The Monster Sentence
Ever have one of those extremely long sentences that became an absolute monster? Let's face it, monster sentences eat paper, they look and sound unprofessional, and sometimes when reading one, it's hard to catch some oxygen.
While some of us love writing long sentences, sometimes wordiness can carry us into dangerous waters. In these dangerous waters, the monster sentence is lurking, just waiting to take a bite out of our writing. Don't let the monster sentence kill your writing style!
Here's an example: The dog ran quickly down the hill to chase the cat the cat then became distracted by a bird the bird was too distracted by a worm to notice the cat stalking it even though the cat was being chased by the dog.
Whew! That was a beast, right? Let's pick that sentence apart and see what can be tamed.
Revision: The dog ran quickly down the hill to chase the cat. The cat then became distracted by a bird. The bird was too distracted by a worm to notice the cat stalking it, even though the cat
Phantom of the Opera Critique
The Phantom of the Opera: Cliché Yet Charming
Though I was not familiar with Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera, I was immediately fascinated when this film (directed by Joel Schumacher) came to my attention. This film which was decisively panned by the majority of professional movie critics, I truly believe is brilliant. In this review, I will reveal why this movie is simply and purely cliché yet charming. The criteria used in my analysis include: content, set, lighting, musical score, acting, and originality.
The movie begins in a dull, black and white, grainy, 1919 Paris, France, at an auction in the old, run-down, Opera Populaire. Even though the opera house is covered in cobwebs and dust, one can easily discern that in its day it was glorious.
The real magic begins with "Lot 666," a chandelier. As the chandelier is lifted from the floor in a display of its fully restored glory, the first chord of the theme song of The Phantom of the Opera begins. A bone-chilling,
A Fresh Start
Over the course of our lives we receive scars,
We amass our hurt and anger in various sized jars.
We act like we're not good enough,
Our emotions hidden behind a wall that is rough.
So we live our lives in dreariness,
Watching the naïve with much weariness.
We scoff at their paltry temporary happiness.
We wear our misery like an honor medal,
Like we've been put through fire to test our mettle.
But maybe we're more vulnerable than we think;
Because once we love we begin to sink.
Fear pushes us to the brink.
But we look at the innocence in disgust,
We proudly swear, "In thee I will not trust."
When in reality, purity is all we lust.
But push on we will and must,
Like a dismal machine full of rust.
But maybe a vulnerability,
Is not some disability.
Because inside of you I can see,
The man you really want to be.
And maybe you can't be him just yet,
Your heart is tender and full of regret.
Your time will come so do not fret.
Because the purest heart,
Cannot tell fancy and love apart.
Nation of Shame
And we shall rise up a new people. Not chained in place by previous inequity or bigotry. We shall oust the individuals who have, for so long, restrained us from our freedom.
But what else are we but a nation in chains begging for scraps from our master's table? What else are we but the foot stool of the abusive and corrupt?
We ought to be more than the slaves of those who were originally indentured to us. Destitute and impoverished we are, our very liberty raped by their power hungry greedy natures. Who are we but tired, poor huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse, the homeless tempest-tost?
We are what we swore to protect and nurture. We are the burdened and afflicted. We are the nation of the forcibly mute. Tortured with visions of freedom and grandeur.
We have nothing…not even our name. We are the nation of shame.
My Darkest Sin, My Evil Desire
Slowly the darkness creeps, into the world it seeps. Like a bead of rain water, indeed it does not falter. In the shadows it lurks, waiting to do its evil works. The monster within, slowly it inches in. Like a long forgotten nightmare, its horrors truly too great to bear. The demon of the soul, bound to eat its victim whole. Something truly beautiful in the beast, one cannot resist it in the least. Gasp for air, you enter its insidious lair. Evil, you are my bane; smite it all as you will ordain. Baptize me in the blood; clean me in the crimson flood. Lay me down, let me drown. For in the darkness I cannot hide scenes so gory I nearly cried. I lied you are the thing clawing out from the inside. You are my evil within, my darkest sin. My evil desire.
When I was younger a year made no difference, a year really had no influence. I remember when a day was just a day; it didn't really matter anyway. Time floated by me, and it really didn't mean anything.
Now, I'm ushered into this new place, where all is puzzling even my face. A year is a century, filled with uncountable days all blurry. Time rushes by me, and it really does mean everything.
And it really is shocking that as I look back, was it the blink of an eye because it all looks dim and black.
Perhaps this isn't what it seems, maybe these horrific ideas are nothing but dreams.
When did it change? When did everything become so obscenely strange?
Moving from childhood and the familiar, into this new world that's so peculiar.
And as I wake up and remember it all now, it makes me sad and I wonder how...
When did I grow up?
Maybe you and I did have something, it's not like it meant absolutely nothing. Maybe it wasn't healthy but it was lifesaving. Maybe it was everything, maybe it was the only thing. Maybe you were all I was craving. Maybe I was only for devotion starving; our relationship was slowly fading, before even the very beginning. Maybe it was you I couldn't bare facing. Maybe your brown eyes always set my heart racing. Maybe I didn't know if you were only manipulating? Maybe somehow you were actually lying? Maybe my trust was slowly dying. Maybe in light of my paranoia we were failing. Maybe it was just our friendship poisoning. Maybe I couldn't bear staying. Maybe I couldn't express every single feeling. Maybe I couldn't stand the idea of disappointing. Maybe I couldn't force my heart to be ready for opening. Maybe this toxin was not really enthralling. Maybe this desire was slowly killing. Maybe our love was only poisoning. Maybe through this venom I was frozen, left with one thing:
100 Reasons to Stay AliveCute animals that make you go, "Kawaii!"The part of the charger you put your foot on while you're derping on the laptop.Pencils so sharp you can possibly murder an undesirable specimen. (I don't suggest that, but you can.)Clear, blue skies.Putting on the headphones after a long day.Realizing you don't have any homework.The feeling of spring after winter."EMERGENCY MESSAGE: Due to extreme weather conditions, all school activities and administrative offices have been closed for today."Dry towels.Belting out your favorite song in the shower.Cute guys.Maybe cute girls.Or maybe both. I don't know your preferences.The sense of accomplishment.Looking in the mirror and trying out your "sexy" pose.Going on DeviantArt to find your messages chock-full of activity notifications.When you're in a radically good mood so you don't have a care in the world.Hilarious videos.Seeing a picture of something that doesn't usually have a face having a face.When your crush smiles at you.Being weird with your BF
Markiplier - Draw My Life.Markiplier Draw My Life
“Hello Everybody! Markiplier here and thank you guys so much for being with me through a 1000 videos! It’s hard to even imagine how we’ve gotten from this point, and I REALLY wanted to do something special for the 1000 subscriber milestone, er, not a 1000 subscriber- 1000 VIDEO milestone, and, I think this video is really gonna explain to you guys how I got from point A to point B, and how YOU guys have helped change my life because, um, these things are really important to me because, they tell how I became the person that I am, and I really do appreciate you guys for sticking with me. So, HERE WE GO!!!”
“I was born on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean called O’ahu, which is the third largest island of Hawaii, and home to the city of Honolulu where I was born on a military base. My dad was a career army man, and he had been in the army 23 years before he retired, and appar
Maybe This Is My Last GoodbyeI just have something to say and that is that I can not but
I have tried to get ahead for myself
But I can not
Every time I feel most miserable
Whenever I feel like not worth it to go ahead
I've tried everything
But they just look at me as a useless, stupid good for nothing like a monster
So to go ahead if, just they tell me my faults in the face
They say I have to open my wings and fly towards my destination where I belong
I try to fly, but my wings are broken
And without wings I can not fly to my destination, and if I not go to my destination I have nothing
And if I have nothing to go ahead
Maybe my destiny is in heaven, where there is no evil, sadness or mental illness
the weight of living pt. cdlxxit's a tangle of voices in the midst of rainy 1.53am breakdown
right now i want to cut myself
it feels like an ideal solution
i know it is not
maybe i should throw out my blades
i don't know
i don't know
i do know
i don't want to
the key phrase is just in case
you don't understand
you don't care
i wish .he cared
i also wish he wasn't fucking a fourteen year old harry potter freak with nicer eyes than me
i also wish he didn't spend his lunch times locked away in the drama room with a 52 year old paedophile with marriage problems
i wish i'd never cut myself because it's all these scars that will never fade and they remind me every day of how much i fucked everything up and how much i will never be okay what am i even saying
he reminds me of a sadness i never truly covered up and never truly understood
he reminds me of the gir
Today My Hands Reek of Doctor Office SoapBecause I frantically washed my hands in the back room
Because I’m one anxious little fuck when it comes to needles and
Crying children in the hallways and rooms where the walls are paper thin
Because I nearly pass out when needles are stuck into my arm several times
Because no one can ever find a goddamned vein the first time
Trying to calm myself as the doctor comes back in and the first words out of my mouth are
“So what are some good anxiety medications these days?”
Leave Her AloneThere is a girl.
About twelve or thirteen.
She has depression.
And people bully her!
She may say no one can understand her.
But I can.
I can feel my heart slowly crumbling.
I can feel her pain.
Whenever she tries to stand up for herself, people get mad.
Because I know how it feels.
But all I ask...
Don't bully her.
If your bullying her, your bullying me.
Don't get mad at her if she stands up for herself.
Don't hurt her.
Don't insult her.
You don't know it feels.
But I do.
Don't say you hurt worse.
Because you really don't.
And most of all, if your bullying her.
LEAVE HER ALONE
a letter to her My darling sunshine,
I know that we're about 1000 miles apart, but my heart feels tied to yours and I can't seem to let you go. My heart tells me that you're my soul mate, that you're my other half, that you're supposed to be loved by me and I by you. Age is just a number. I know that. In your Valentine's Day card, you told me to believe in us, to believe that one day we'll be together forever. I can't wait until that day!
Recently, you suggested we take a break because our distance is too big for you... I told you that'd be okay, I told you that I could wait for 4 more years (seeing as that's how many years of school I have left). You still call me your lovely pet names for me: Babe, darling, deary, and my favorite - your shooting star. You still tell me that you love me, and I tell you that I love you more. I do believe in us, I do believe that some day soon, we'll be together forever.
You, my dear, are my best friend... And I'm yours, you told me so yourself. I won't let you g
Today is yet another bad day. I feel tired, I feel weak. I feel sad.
I have no reason for my sadness. My whole being aches, tears rim my eyes. Why do I have no reason for my sadness?
I want to cry but I can’t. I want to sleep but I can’t. I want peace of mind, a moment of happiness.
Is it me? Is it the world? Why do I feel so sad? It’s maddening, infuriating. I want to cry but I can’t.
I want help. I want sleep. Fear plagues my dreams. The monsters never sleep.
They haunt me everywhere I go. I see them in the mirror, I hear them with my mind. They reflect in my thoughts. A mirror never lies. I see disappointment, scrap.
Why can’t I have peace of mind?
I'll never be your daughterDad, oh why... Why can't you...
Why can't you accept who I am?
Why can't you accept how I am?
I have never seen this world,
I don't know the things you do.
I know that, and I know youre much wiser.
Wiser than me.
But is that a reason?
A reason for that expression?
The one on your face,
telling me that you think Im dumb.
Dumb and idiotic and worth nothing.
Are you really like that?
Is success the only thing that matters?
Intelligence and smart thinking?
Does someone not perfect not fit into your world?
Do you really think this...
Do you really think I'm not perfect enough?
But why do you do it then?
Why do you say you love me?
The way I am.
You said you loved me,
but to be honest, dad, I can't believe you.
Do you really?
How can you love me?
Why do you look so disappointed?
I can't understand your point.
When we argue you say it's me.
It's all my fault.
Is it really?
Do you really think it's me?
Do you mean it when you say things...
Things like "You should get a psychatrist!"
How can yo
I sit in quiet agony, the sound of suffering stirs me from my reverie. Torturous blasphemy. The screams now come rather pitifully.
And what is this for? Some sort of obsession or lore?
I stand at the door, waiting for a footstep on the floor. I want at the brink, feeling my eyes close in a painful blink. Physical sting is all I drink.
And what is this for? Some sort of obsession or lore?
Hold me captive in this cell, but in these four walls I will not dwell. Hold me until my rebellion begins to quell. But you will die in this hell as well.
And what is this for? Some sort of obsession or lore?
So lock me in this damn prison…but you will never take my vision…you can never steal my ambition…you will never break my determination.
And what is this for? Some sort of obsession or lore?
Lock me in this jail, but we both know you will fail.
Burn you wicked tormentor...
I will be the victor.
So open that door...
Open that door...
You will get all you deserve and more.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More