Death WishLying on the grungy, damp floor. Uncaring to the monstrous insects finding their way to her. Eyes closed, but her mind as open as a book. Her fragile and bare neck has two handprints in a deep blue---her imprings, her death wish... Another thing lies next to her on that damned spot; a pill-bottle...the pills once inside now hidden inside another manufactured, over-used bottle---her body, her death wish... A stool is in the corner in front of a small cracked mirror.Death Wish
A small dagger bedecked in blood on a counter. Frayed rope hangs from a small rod across the ceiling---her frayed heart, her death wish.
ApologizeBooming sounds.Apologize
I feel my heart pound ...beneath my fingers. The thought of the arguement lingers. My head starts to hurt. Discomfort seizes me, I tug at my shirt. Every thought running through me makes me more angered. Anyone who approaches me should be aware of the danger. I snap at people to leave me alone. My eyes glaze over and I just kind of drone. Replaying what I had previously said, wondering what had been going through their head. What was their point of view on this stupid quibble? I try to think, but it seems like a riddle. I'm angered again when
Lost ThoughtsFading synapses in the corner of my brain,Lost Thoughts
cause me to have severe mental pain. There are thoughts lurking in every cranny and nook... But, some I can't find with my searching look. To my annoyance, they often escape for reasons unknown. Some are so important--I am often shown. I know there are memories of my time, my past... But, why can't my recent ones stay a while, last? Sometimes I'll look back and remember days as a four-year old... But I can't remember what teachers say, mental notes, or random things I am told. The loss of these thoughts ignite my frustration--I pout.
Son of WhispersThe chalice overflows as greed becomes desire, At the souless that walk the streets at night; Eyes white, with no pupils - They dance with dementia, As ravenous crows peck their brains, And confuse the pulped matter.Son of Whispers
Voices that beckon lead down dirty alleyways, Where a woman gives birth to a child which ate her insides. Bleeding onto the street,
She puts it to her breast - Where it feeds off milk, And scratches her flesh. It will not let go, this child, As it feeds and grows to become a man - A suicidal dancer, Who drinks from the chalice cup.
I'm ungrounded, whoo!
Hi.
--
COWZ.
--
The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. - Hunter S. Thompson
"I'm happy just to be." - DJ Encore
--
The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. - Hunter S. Thompson
"I'm happy just to be." - DJ Encore
--
The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. - Hunter S. Thompson
"I'm happy just to be." - DJ Encore
--
God Save the Queen
~coda very appreciative
--
God Save the Queen
--
The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. - Hunter S. Thompson
"I'm happy just to be." - DJ Encore
--
God Save the Queen
What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire deviant life, that there's something wrong with the story. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.
You take the blue pill, the story ends. Your browser closes and you believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland. And, I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
I offer only the truth, nothing more.
Take: The Red Pill
Take: The Blue Pill
--
The Angry Deviant
Random Deviant
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