Mutilated DollPretty grinning doll, up on her shelf,
When the moon comes she speaks to herself.
With wonderful dresses, black, blue or red,
Silky blonde hair, stiches on her head.
One eyeball is missing, but she sheds no tear,
From traces of blood, her wan skin is clear.
She thinks of the time, not so far away,
When she was the children's dearest toy to play.
Yet now she's alone, smiling as she ponders,
If she will get to see the world's many wonders.
From the top of her pier, made of rags and tatters,
She eyes as her limbs falls, and her mind scatters.
Petticoats hiding the hands with which she fiddles,
Cords falling from her shoulder she oft Mutilated Doll by ~M-iikado
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New Times, Old FeelingsNew Times, Old Feelings
He hasn't felt this cold in ages, it is a familiar feeling as he walks, with a not that frozen smile; he is walking into his hometown, a place, literally, frozen in time. Winter is practically the only season there is on here, strangely enough, he finds it heartwarming. An illusionist that keeps playing roses that never die, and with a pocket without a watch; sadness is his company on each of his travels, but this time, oh this time is a special one, because he is here to unbury his past, the story of how he became the Sad Illusionist.
As he enters into the alley he knows already that he was not the only one that cha New Times, Old Feelings by ~Jamessaintcross
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Sex, weed and hanging out.You spot him across a crowded space, you see him drinking a beer at the bar, and you look down at your legs, extend your right leg slightly and move your foot around clockwise, while smiling to yourself. “He is really sexy” you think, as you take a sip of your beer and look away from him.
You feel him looking in your direction, you keep your gaze low in the middle of the room, and then only raise your eyes up to meet his. You stare at him, without flinching for 5 seconds at least, then you take a sip of your drink and look away into the crowd, there is a man coming towards you, smiling... he walks up to you and asks you to dance, Sex, weed and hanging out. by *yours----truly
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Using People's Ego Part 1I noticed something the other day. It doesn't matter what people say most of the time. You talk or type and what happens? Pretty much nothing, half the time, and in terms of what probably most of my watchers go through, as well as myself, if it is religious related, what happens? You get the trolls that need to write a book as a response, as if they didn't read a single word you said. They don't listen to you, they wait to jump down your throat.
So, with this said, I want to talk to you guyseses about how to not only handle people, but also how to get people to like you. Before I do so though, this is meant for real life situations.
First t Using People's Ego Part 1 by !TheWandererNears
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Everything, now, and never.Everything happens all around you. It is all a blur, all a regurgitated notion, until you are the recipient. Until you are the centre of the chaos. Then it is surreal, then it is too real to understand, too real to really know, because you have never been the centre of gravity. You are insignificant, and mean very little to the world, in it's entirety. When you are at the centre of death, emotion, chaos and effect, you tend to acknowledge life for what it is. A fleeting moment, tainted in memory. You try to hold on, when there is nothing tangible, you try and understand, when perception flew into the black hole of existence, right before your Everything, now, and never. by *yours----truly
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Senryu, and How It Differs from HaikuCompared to other styles of poetry under the category of Haiku and Eastern, there is comparatively little published about the more aggressive senryu.
Senryu, whose name means river willow, uses humor and satire to examine human society. Senryu takes on the form of haiku, but makes greater use of punctuation techniques (ellipses, exclamations, etc.) to convey its point. Senryu can use seasonal kigo, but do not rely on them. In senryu, the seasonal reference should be second in importance to the human portrayal. Contrary to popular belief, not all senryu is humorous. Many express misfortune, eroticism, political views (very important), religio Senryu, and How It Differs from Haiku by `jade-pandora
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You cant buy my mentality.You know, for what its worth, I have to say this,
that, after everything ive been through
after the exhaustion, that tired feeling that
only few of us share
theres still enough to keep me going.
I may need the rest, and I may endure the
restlessness, but there is no difference between
life getting easier, or continuing to be difficult.
I struggle,
like everyone else and
I write, like many do (yet they refuse to admit)
and I paint, I burn pages with charcoal
I stain paper with ink in the form of
landscapes or trees.
I drink,
and I strategize the next word to illustrate
no matter which pen I use.
Nights of drug-addicts, keeping me up
dont slo You cant buy my mentality. by ~Evalyhn
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Attack of Narcissist
[edit: Just to make something clear...Having a facebook and sharing pictures, having fun, and being a human being is not the type of people this write up is directed towards. It is directed towards condescending narcissistic hipsters, who use facebook, having fun, as outlets to create an illusion they are something they are not. That is who this is directed towards.....The Hipsters.....]
Now I have been noticing this for a long time now.
People of my generation seem to have this idea that they are fucking awesome. We have an entire generation of people who describe themselves as being "Confident, funny, fun, smart, a nerd, cool, a hom Attack of Narcissist by ~FlipswitchMANDERING
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Prodigy-Ch.1~Shane~
I had stood outside the door to the examination room with my father, the head of the research facility. Inside the room with its metal double doors was a girl; she was eight years old, and I had turned ten a few days back.
"Someday," my father started, "you'll be head of this facility. Of course, I'll be gone."
"Dad, what are you doing with her?" I asked.
He looked down at me, his gray eyes showing no hint of emotion. "This girl is special, my son. You'll understand one of these days." Then, he turned on his heel and walked down the narrow hallway, his shoes echoing off of the walls.
I turned my gaze from him to the door of the l Prodigy-Ch.1 by ~weasmo
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Viktor Keshlov - Two Viktor slouched down into his chair, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling. He hadn't had much to do in the past year, or even anyone to talk to. His family consisted of his mean little sister, a quiet older cousin, an aunt that didn't want him there, and an older brother who left them. He wasn't sure if her missed his brother or father more, Viktor had always thought that his father was a great man, he'd always been proud to be the son of Daniil Keshlov, now when he told people who he was they only smiled sadly at him and asked what would come of the publishing company. Viktor didn't care what happened to the company, he wanted his family back.
"Viktor" a soft voice came from just behind him. He turned to see Leon standing over him, dark hair mussed, with strands falling down in his face. He looked quite tall from Viktor's position in the chair; taller even than he usually did, but most notably, the boy looked miserable. He always looked miserable.
"yes?" Viktor ask Viktor Keshlov - Two by ~flashingnumbers
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Bartholomew Keaton - Three Bartholomew had had his things packed for weeks, but he'd had no where to go. He was nineteen years old, and he thought it was time that he got out of his house, he would have left more than a year ago had it not been for his younger brothers. Bartholomew felt very protective of Jasper and Kassidy, and though he knew that the boys were old enough to take care of themselves, he couldn't bring himself to leave them with their parents. He didn't want to see anymore bruises on either of them, and he knew that if he left there would be no one to stop it anymore.
Bartholomew had a plan now, though. He'd been discussing it with a close friend for a long time, and he thought he'd finally found a place to stay. He and Alice would move in for a while, just to be sure that it was a safe place, and then Jasper and Kassidy would follow.
The owner of the house had said that it was okay for four people to move in. He had insisted that he wanted to fill all of the rooms, and he had s Bartholomew Keaton - Three by ~flashingnumbers
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Lock the DoorsWhat if I can’t
Hold my tongue,
While you’re screaming
In my ears.
Or If I were
To tell you, just
How much your
Children hear.
And if my head
Begins to feel
Like a war zone
Without sides
Can I break,
Or does that
Really make me
Wrong?
What if
Everything I
Carry
Gains in weight?
Can I drop it
Or does that
Mean I’m
weak?
What if
Everything I
Stand
For starts to break?
Can I move on,
Or is
It now
Too late?
What if I
Really know,
I have no reason
To feel pain?
Because you’ve
Really always been here
Even though you’re
Far away
So I strike
A mental match
To burn that
stupid pain away.
Is it really
Ending, or am
I just
Insane?
I think everything is
Falling, but I’m
Never going
Down.
Stuck in constant
Wonder, but
I never hear a
Sound.
My life in
Lines of music,
But I cannot
Drown it out.
Sometimes I think
I’m dying, but
I really wish
So now.
If I close
Another curtain,
If I lock
Another door Lock the Doors by ~flashingnumbers
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Sta.sh
