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The ListShe has a list.
She has a long, long list, spanning many pages in her notebook. There are pages upon pages, coated in a messy scrawl of blue gel ink that varies in freshness from hours to years.
Every night, she adds to it. Every night, religiously, ever since she can remember. She has to stay up as long as it takes to add whatever she can recall to her list, no matter how tired or how busy she is. If one were to happen past her house on any particular night, odds are the light would be shining brightly as she frantically scribbled in her notebook.
Her list is precious to her. She isn't proud of it, but she needs it with her always.
Almost Human - Chapter 1: Prelude to MadnessI hope you enjoy the little gift I left behind. I'd love to see your face right now as you receive it. Your blood must be boiling over, your heart racing for the horror your eyes have witnessed, your mind flooding with adrenaline to come after me. All that drive and resolve drowning that constant stoic and brooding stare. Oh, how I'd love to be standing right in front of you to witness the reaction to my present. But alas, my attention is needed elsewhere. That idiot Harley Quinn of mine cannot function properly without my lead. But don't you fret my dear Dark Knight, by the time you finished reading this I'll be waiting for you. I will be wa
Almost Human - Chapter 2: Not as it SeemsCome on Batsy baby! Let us add another wonderful dance to our grand play!" the Joker laughed manically, arms thrown in the air as if reaching to his Batman for an embrace.
Batman charged for him, that crazed laughter rang agonizingly in his mind. He had to silence that unbearable laughter! He pulled back and punched the Joker in the face with all his might. Almost immediately Joker was bleeding profusely from his nose, he stumbled backwards but he kept smiling. He didn't stop; he connected numerous punches and kicks until the clown crashed onto the ground. With weak giggles he managed to lift himself up and dusted himself off.
She Speaks To YouAn old woman sits in front of a fireplace; steam from a hot cup of tea held in her wrinkled hands gently swirls upward, a soft focus kaleidoscope. She purses her lips and blows gently on the water before taking a slow sip. The lights are out, she watches shadows dance on the walls. She is apparently alone, yet she speaks. She speaks to you.
‘I was like you once. I did as I was told, giddily believed in the world presented to me. I was so eager to fit in to it all, to slide into the processes around me and belong to them, be good, be popular, be successful. Then I died. An experience beyond words, beyond the mundane awareness of time an
Reminder"Why--why do you hate me?" he snapped brokenly. "I've never--never done anything to you. But you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Really? Because I see the way you act around me--quiet and distant. You don't laugh when I'm in the room. But you're different with everyone else. When you can't see me, you're loud, happy... What did I do?" He seems defeated, slumping back.
She feels horrid.
"It's not really your fault," she says slowly, looking away. "I'm sorry. I like you. I really do."
"You remind me of someone. I loved them, but they're gone now. Sometimes, I look at you and I see their face. You'll say something and I hear their voice. I feel... guilty, I guess, for liking you. Things didn't end well between us."
He pauses. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No, it's fine. I needed to get over it anyway."
He nods, getting up to leave.
"Just so you know," he says, "I really like you, too."
Forgotten"How was I supposed to know?" he says softly to her back as she starts to leave. "How was I supposed to know you weren't happy? That things weren't working out? You never told me."
"You were supposed to listen," she snaps, turning around. "You were supposed to ask. That's what couples are supposed to do--communicate."
"I spoke to you every day," he murmurs. "I'd ask you what your friends said, what you did, how work was..."
"You never asked how I was!"
"Would you have told me if I had? Because I don't think you would've. I think you would've just let the whole thing sit there and then you would've left anyway, with some other excuse."
She shakes her head harshly, turning around again.
"You promised that you'd never leave!" he shouts at her back.
"Yeah? Well, you swore you'd never break my heart."
Philosophy-*Raphael's POV* I live with in a place where monsters seem to pop up everywhere and just attack. It is mainly of no reason WHY they exist and they attack. They just appear.
When I was a little kid, I fought them. I had powers, like my siblings did. My brother was a reaper of human darkness that made him stronger each time. My sister, she had powers of thr worldly elements. And me, well, life, death rebirth, and the flow of time that connects each one (time was of a lesser power) and a bum leg (which I tell about because it is another part of me). However, I digress. As I was saying, for a time I fought off these monsters, because I thought I had t
Suicide #1 of 26 SuicidesThe breeze from the window into his study was rarely quiet. Occasionally, late at night, much too late in most cases, he could be seen by mentally unstable passersby, seen at his battered old ship of a desk, just barely through the ground floor window of his row house, seated beside a table lamp of fancy descent, scratching his cheeks and reflecting on one thing or another with brazen indifference to the world around him and acute curiosity about everything else.
This was his alone time.
Sometimes he read. Crime novels mostly. Sometimes he caught up on work. Law briefs written by childless thirty year olds generally.
Sometimes he unlocked
Les bourreaux– Bonjour, j’ai besoin d’aide. J’en cherche des bonnes, pouvez-vous me conseiller?
– Ne cherché pas plus loin, car de toutes ces tortures que vous avez inventées, je suis la meilleure, ou la pire selon le point de vue. Je n'ai point l'air modeste, il faut cependant regarder le monde en face.
– D’accord. Et qu’ont-elles de spécial celles-là?
– De spécial ? Mais c'est justement ce que je fais : j'oblige mes victimes à regarder le monde en face. Un monde cru, horrible. Leur vie devient un enfer où toutes choses perçues les blessent davantage. Dans celui-ci, le diable – moi en l&rsquo
Limited. Of course. So what? That's a maybe. What if? No, that's not possible. Not even. Whatever you say! It never happens. But you see it everyday! Well it doesn't appeal. But when it does? Then I'll think. No you won't. Yes I will! But it just did happen! What? It happened! I thought I had more time! Nope, it ran straight out! You are lying to me. Am I? Yes! Nope, look at the evidence! That's what happens everyday! It's nothing bad. Yes it is! Your point being? If somebody found out everything will be wrecked! Why is that? Because, it happens everyday, it is discriminated everyday! It should be accepted sooner or later. It never will be. What other things are like this, huh? Well there was that thing that happened nearly six decades ago, there was the thing that happened two hundred ye
...All religions preaching love
Without any comprehension
What in fact it really means
Limited by this dimension
Misinterpreting the words
Of the few who bridged the border
And in vain tried to explain
Meaning underlying order
Oh by the fates deceive me! There is no future here, and within this depth I see nothing but light! Blind me, the frail and protruding skeleton wrapped in breakable web, a skin so fair it only deserves to be stained with red! Red? Red! Oh the glorious taint! The sweet essence of our very birth very life! Red! We are no more than simple red. And the delicate blue strings woven throughout the delicate folds of web, are they life, are they death? A tint of their effervescent color, and yet once more the blind! One delicate blue thread be snipped and once again we fall to red.
So fair a delicate color may be, yet so unfair her loving a
a warningi’m sitting in the shower and the water is turned up as hot as it can go because i need to feel warmth again; but it still feels like ice on my skin. and it made me wonder what happens when your best friends laugh doesn’t make you smile anymore, and the feeling of rain on your skin doesn’t make a difference. what happens when you’re left cold and indifferent and so completely numb in a way no one can ever begin to understand?
once when i was little i fell off my bike onto the cement, and my knee started bleeding badly. every time i had fallen off my mom would run up to me and kiss my forehead and tell me i would be fi
Bird The people in my neighborhood stare at me. It's not because I'm crazy like Jordan, who lives down the road in the blue house that her father repainted before we stopped being best friends. She would bounce down the street like springs were tied to her shoes, smiling with crooked teeth that she would hide when you smiled back with your teeth that were straight like cream, brick walls in your mouth.
I am a different girl, some say. Her head is off in the sky with the birds, flitting around ideas that don't make sense, no matter how hard she pulls on them with her beak. She doesn't chirp like a bird, but she sings. They don't talk abou
A Temporary Freedom In my head, I am free. Free to allow myself to dream of soft november mornings and cool summers where I would not melt in the suns fierce rage. Free to dream that my people are not just people that live in my imagination and spring to life when I ask it of them, like I am the puppet master and they are the puppets in my world. Where I am God for a short while, creating and destroying in turn. Sculpting the smallest detail of a meadow, down to the last blooming bud, while leaving the sky blank and starless for a short while. There, words twist like thread, stringing themselves together to create a tapestry of light in my minds eye. I sail
Clean Canvas I go to my brothers school. It is like I have found a tear in time that sends me back to the time when I could still play with dolls and have imaginary friends without the concerned looks of those older than me. I sit on the blue kiva that I once hated so much because it had corners that caught my shoes whenever I tried to walk around it, and watch as people I once knew walk around the school, not even pausing to look my way. I wonder if they even know my name anymore. I can name them all.
"Mrs. Larson, Mrs. Sand, Mr. Johnson," the names rattle through my head like pennies in an empty jar. I pause slightly after each one to try to rub the
Left Overs It's not the same with boys. My brother can walk into a room and be expected to cruel and vague in his answers to questions directed at him by the room, seeming to breath life around him from all sides. He can suck in those words, engulfing them in the black hole of his mind, then spitting answers out like playing cards in a game that has been played too many times. I must always have something good to bring to the conversation or I will be brushed away from the holiday table, scrapped aside like the left-over turkey. Bones stick out of this turkey, only to be covered with gravy to hide the gravity of the bird body on the table. My word
God, Whats Her Problem I sit at the table, smiling politely and nodding as that one girl tells me about her weekend in the mountains, her hand drifting over the rim of her plastic tray continually, The constant movement turns my blood a putrid orange, ready to burst forth in annoyance induced anger. I nod instead, wanting to be nice so in a moment, when I leave, she won't turn around and whisper, "God, what's her problem?"
The boy I sit next to in Biology always looks at my paper, smiling slightly as he does as though I'm that blind to him. I want to tell the teacher. but if I do then he will convince the school that I was the one in the wrong. More people
Somthing in Red My room is overgrown with a forest of fabric, draped over chairs and bed knobs alike. Green for calm days, like leaves on a spring morning, or on lucky days when green is the common color. Yellow, rarely, when I pink shirts that are two light for my mood. Blue for sad days, when my mind drifts off into the sea of despair. Black for days when darkness wins and I become the villain, my eyes angry and my sneer sinister. So many varieties, so many scarves. I have hundreds that are the same color.
There is only one red scarf. Its embrace is warm, the pattern in gold, elegantly embroidered over it's surface. It's the color of fire, hot co
The Mirror Girl I am crouched over myself, trying hard not to fall over. The nerves in my feet send telegrams to my brain, screaming at it to stop me from moving. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! My mind is on repeat, the recording forever replaying, over and over. The other girls can just move and she smiles and claps, her fingers the only things that move faster than this endless tempo of music that sets my nerves on edge. I glance at the clock. An eternity until I'm free.
"Moorea!" she shrieks in that voice that is too sweet to be human. To pink to be real. "There you are. Will you try the steps, now?"
I shake my head, praying that it will come
She decided a young woman like her had no business being imperfect. Impurities had to be expelled from her life, no matter the cost. A universal remover promised to be her savior. It lived up to its commercials, doing away with the stains that disgraced her floor and some of the walls.
Would domestic hygiene free her from being flawed? Doubtful. This product guaranteed to exterminate any kind of filth. Could it go beyond the material things? She rubbed the substance on her forehead, and conjured as many negative thoughts as possible. They were recalled, only to vanish from memory a second after.
Satisfied? Not quite. Even the good recollect
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More