He stumbles into the bathroom, falling haphazardly against the door frame, a transparent bottle of Absolut held tight against his palm. He struggles to regain his balance. His shaky hands fumble with the light switch and the light blinks on blinding him with its row of incandescent bulbs. The bottle is gently placed on the side of the porcelain sink. He pauses to stare at himself, pale with deep, inky circles puddling under his eyes. He offers himself a flimsy smile before looking back to his bottle. He takes a small drink before looking up with a smile at his reflection. Rotting flesh and the unnatural visibility of bone greet him instead of
When I look at her, her spine straightens. I watch the arrogant jitter rumble through her body. Her lips turn to sneer, her eyes turn to glare, eyebrows angle downwards and I feel nauseous. She's better than me, she thinks so. I know it to be true. That causes me to look down at my hands and fidget uncomfortably. She ignites a form of hatred inside of me.
Last night, I thought of all the people I knew. I still don't know if they mean as much to me as they're supposed to. Do I give enough in my relationships? Do I make them feel worthy? Or am I just as arrogant and selfish as the girl I've grown to hate. The girl that doing nothing feel uncom
Sometimes, I get scared. Everyone gets scared, it's nothing new. It usually happens when I'm lying alone in bed; hiding carelessly under the covers. I pretend it isn't dark and I'm not as lonely as I am. I pretend I don't feel the strange, heavy presence in my cold bedroom. The furniture and various wall decorations, scattered around me, have distorted and turned into frightening images of what I fear most. Most nights, I never sleep. The nights I do, I see things that make me wish I had gone blind and the darkness in my room had made permanent residence within the grey realms of my eyes. I always wake in cold sweat, not always cry
It sort of reminds me of the time we found that rabbit. Poor, pathetic thing coated with dirt and dust. The earth wanting to take it back into its roots. Recycle it. I remember the way it was torn. Little thing became the punching bag for rubber tires. It was torn right down the middle. Nothing special about this, obviously crushed into the ground a few times. What's left of its insides were squished to bits or scattered across the paved road. It didn't have a face. It was gone alone with most of its skin. You could tell it was a little rabbit because of its ears. Little thing died so painfully. I remember the way you scooped it up barehanded
"Would you for once just put down your work? Today is important!"
She stands across from a man hunched over a laptop, typing away at his latest story. Her white flat shoe taps lightly on the cherrywood flooring. She's not impressed with his behavior; working on a day so important as today.
"You're not even dressed! C'mon! It's your sisters wedding, she only gets married once! GET IT TOGETHER"
At this the idle clicking stops and he turns to her, elbow propped up on the back of the wooden chair he has made himself comfortable in and his head tilted in confusion. His brow furrows and his blue eyes stare into her greys.
"Hey! I'm.....half dre
The mirror was always so familiar. Clean. Its familiarity only went so far, however. This was because of the way I sat in front of it. It didn't have the familiarity that a friend had or even an acquaintance. No, it was something else. It was so much easier. A lubricant, a vehicle for my thoughts. When I sat in front of it, I wasn't ever talking to myself. Something always took over my body, eyes going shady and it was as if I grew fangs. The person across from me sat silent; shoulders slumped and face cast down into its knees. This person I screamed at on a day to day basis never spoke a word. My voice was never one I had become so familiar
The water is warm, when I step in. The steam engulfs my body and I feel right at home. My head buries itself in my hands, while I weep. Absentmindedly, my hand grabs the faucet weakly turning the water to scald the unsaturated skin that binds me. I stand hopelessly, back to the constant spray of bitter water. Soon after standing there for quite some time, I realize that the burn I feel against my shoulder blades isn`t making my situation any better. The water is turned off and I step out carefully. The steam rises quickly from my skin and the cold air burns just as fast. I pull a towel from the rack and wrap my body in it; only stopping to st
Why would I always throw myself into predicaments such as this one?
A child of a mere sixteen years, forcing herself to show a more confident side. Especially with those older than she. Mind you, these people had no idea that the intelligence barrier among the age groups was a lot closer than you would expect. And perhaps it even acted in her favor. No, she knew right away that she was smarter than them. The two digit number decided to say otherwise. Of course, it wasn't fair. She, herself, had acted this arrogant way with other children younger than herself. Finally, she had realized that this wasn't a just way of acting; she could understa
In the absence of a feeling that could've been called bitterness, a slight mystical feeling remains. This feeling would never be considered as a positive, at least not to him. This feeling leaves many in a crumpled heap. The apocalypse seemed to come early for him. His face buries itself deep into the slate colored tiles, that have made themselves comfortable in his apartment kitchen. Time runs smoothly, slowly; the minutes he spends feel as if he has been sitting there forever. His dominant hand stretches out across the cool floor, while his other hand remains covering his left ear. He's trying to cancel out what little sound that could be h
Warm hands tie shoes, quickly, carefully, quietly. My eyes a cold, bitter gray. They stare. I stand from the pavement. In the distance, laughter escaping mouths of pure innocence. In light of today's events, I've found myself pondering what made it so innocent exactly. I didn't know them. Nor did I want to. Most days, I'd watch them play in tall grassed areas under pale pink skies. My face buried into a hardcover usually. Always peeking over; to glance across from me to see the light expressions of what could've been called innocence.
That is now a thing of the past. My life swarmed with black smoke and calloused hands. My eyes hard now; sto
When I look at her, her spine straightens. I watch the arrogant jitter rumble through her body. Her lips turn to sneer, her eyes turn to glare, eyebrows angle downwards and I feel nauseous. She's better than me, she thinks so. I know it to be true. That causes me to look down at my hands and fidget uncomfortably. She ignites a form of hatred inside of me.
Last night, I thought of all the people I knew. I still don't know if they mean as much to me as they're supposed to. Do I give enough in my relationships? Do I make them feel worthy? Or am I just as arrogant and selfish as the girl I've grown to hate. The girl that doing nothing feel uncom
Sometimes, I get scared. Everyone gets scared, it's nothing new. It usually happens when I'm lying alone in bed; hiding carelessly under the covers. I pretend it isn't dark and I'm not as lonely as I am. I pretend I don't feel the strange, heavy presence in my cold bedroom. The furniture and various wall decorations, scattered around me, have distorted and turned into frightening images of what I fear most. Most nights, I never sleep. The nights I do, I see things that make me wish I had gone blind and the darkness in my room had made permanent residence within the grey realms of my eyes. I always wake in cold sweat, not always cry
It sort of reminds me of the time we found that rabbit. Poor, pathetic thing coated with dirt and dust. The earth wanting to take it back into its roots. Recycle it. I remember the way it was torn. Little thing became the punching bag for rubber tires. It was torn right down the middle. Nothing special about this, obviously crushed into the ground a few times. What's left of its insides were squished to bits or scattered across the paved road. It didn't have a face. It was gone alone with most of its skin. You could tell it was a little rabbit because of its ears. Little thing died so painfully. I remember the way you scooped it up barehanded
"Would you for once just put down your work? Today is important!"
She stands across from a man hunched over a laptop, typing away at his latest story. Her white flat shoe taps lightly on the cherrywood flooring. She's not impressed with his behavior; working on a day so important as today.
"You're not even dressed! C'mon! It's your sisters wedding, she only gets married once! GET IT TOGETHER"
At this the idle clicking stops and he turns to her, elbow propped up on the back of the wooden chair he has made himself comfortable in and his head tilted in confusion. His brow furrows and his blue eyes stare into her greys.
"Hey! I'm.....half dre
The mirror was always so familiar. Clean. Its familiarity only went so far, however. This was because of the way I sat in front of it. It didn't have the familiarity that a friend had or even an acquaintance. No, it was something else. It was so much easier. A lubricant, a vehicle for my thoughts. When I sat in front of it, I wasn't ever talking to myself. Something always took over my body, eyes going shady and it was as if I grew fangs. The person across from me sat silent; shoulders slumped and face cast down into its knees. This person I screamed at on a day to day basis never spoke a word. My voice was never one I had become so familiar
The water is warm, when I step in. The steam engulfs my body and I feel right at home. My head buries itself in my hands, while I weep. Absentmindedly, my hand grabs the faucet weakly turning the water to scald the unsaturated skin that binds me. I stand hopelessly, back to the constant spray of bitter water. Soon after standing there for quite some time, I realize that the burn I feel against my shoulder blades isn`t making my situation any better. The water is turned off and I step out carefully. The steam rises quickly from my skin and the cold air burns just as fast. I pull a towel from the rack and wrap my body in it; only stopping to st
Why would I always throw myself into predicaments such as this one?
A child of a mere sixteen years, forcing herself to show a more confident side. Especially with those older than she. Mind you, these people had no idea that the intelligence barrier among the age groups was a lot closer than you would expect. And perhaps it even acted in her favor. No, she knew right away that she was smarter than them. The two digit number decided to say otherwise. Of course, it wasn't fair. She, herself, had acted this arrogant way with other children younger than herself. Finally, she had realized that this wasn't a just way of acting; she could understa
In the absence of a feeling that could've been called bitterness, a slight mystical feeling remains. This feeling would never be considered as a positive, at least not to him. This feeling leaves many in a crumpled heap. The apocalypse seemed to come early for him. His face buries itself deep into the slate colored tiles, that have made themselves comfortable in his apartment kitchen. Time runs smoothly, slowly; the minutes he spends feel as if he has been sitting there forever. His dominant hand stretches out across the cool floor, while his other hand remains covering his left ear. He's trying to cancel out what little sound that could be h
Warm hands tie shoes, quickly, carefully, quietly. My eyes a cold, bitter gray. They stare. I stand from the pavement. In the distance, laughter escaping mouths of pure innocence. In light of today's events, I've found myself pondering what made it so innocent exactly. I didn't know them. Nor did I want to. Most days, I'd watch them play in tall grassed areas under pale pink skies. My face buried into a hardcover usually. Always peeking over; to glance across from me to see the light expressions of what could've been called innocence.
That is now a thing of the past. My life swarmed with black smoke and calloused hands. My eyes hard now; sto
my skin is an embarrassment of preconceived genetics
without sensory or proof
and all they could say was
My Dear, it's comatose.
the statistic
recovery
and
relapse
tasting forbidden flavors
mountains of unconsciousness
memory is a sieve
capability in the mouth of my nightmares
organs conjuring art
quiet shocks of color
tremolo voices breed beauty with lightning
misunderstood power
Defiance.
they claimed it was premeditated murder
an idea of expected growth
and efficiency
__________________________
the cadaver is resilient; remaining
simply to leech sleep
from oceans
of abandoned opium
Pokemon Fanfic: The Radio Tower by SgtPossum, literature
Literature
Pokemon Fanfic: The Radio Tower
I live a good life now, though I can't say I've earned it.
My boys are all grown up and moved off, married to beautiful women and having fathered many intelligent sons and daughters. Every so often they come to visit me, traveling by ferry to the city I have always called my home, walking through its golden streets to my house just by the Professor's old radio station. For forty years I've lived there with my wife, looking out the window sometimes at the tower as it rusted away, deteriorating in reality while my memories of that place only grow more profound. I did some terrible things there, and other places throughout the country.
As I
Tony Stark/Iron Man
[ ] You like booze
[x] You are the life of the party
[ ] You love gadgets
[x] You can be rather cocky
[ ] Your favorite colour is red or gold
[x] You're good with computer
[x] You use sarcasm a lot
[ ] You love getting attention
[ ] You're good at mechanics
[ ] You have issues with your parents
4/10
Dr. Bruce Banner/The Hulk
[ ] You're good at science
[x] You can get very aggressive when ticked off
[x You like to be secluded most of the time
[ x ] You like wearing baggy clothes
[ ] You like to meditate
[ ] You like doing science experiments
[x] You try to avoid getting into fights
[x] Y
Kay. So semester two has just started. It's like 1 in the morning and I can't sleep. I got myself a new phone yesterday and spent most of the day watching "FILLMORE!" Yeah..that's where the loser part comes in. It's this cartoon that I used to watch as a kid. It's like a police drama (Parodying crimes and stuff) but in Middle School. Hhaahahah. So lame. BUUUT it is just as good as I remember. I managed to work through both seasons and now I'm sad. They just blatantly cancelled it. It's like one of those shows that you don't have to watch episode after episode. You can just come into the series whenever. (Family guy, CSI, Friends, whatever)
A