I think it might be time to move on
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:27pm
Thread Topic: I think it might be time to move on
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that floats on top of a crumbling cloud.
The devil looks up and he thinks
"this life will be my fortune",
and we sit upon our thrones of ash
and glorify this state of being
with the sound of harps.
But we're scared,
we're shaking,
and this is becoming our trademark-
the art of having nothing.
I think it may be time for me
to leave this behind
and ascend into something beyond myself,
so that maybe, one day, I can look down
upon this earthly realm,
and imagine the life I'm so used to,
and relay it with dim eyes to the children to make them behave.
I think I've grown tired of looking for something,
anything, to make it worth the fight.
Because you know it's hard to find a reason to live
but harder to cope with living without one.
~MT
11.22.2013 -
At some point you'll realize
that everything you ever said
would be the stuff of nightmares
to a restless, intelligent mind
That claims of self-betterment serve only as
little
white
lies
that bring about a sour taste and make a body convulse
and look for something sweet to chase it down.
That words without action
are to the world
what dubstep is to music,
and people without minds of their own
are what background characters are to horror stories.
One day, I think you'll understand that this is all
beneath everyone.
One day, I should hope you'll have figured out
exactly who you are
and forgotten who you've been.
One day, you might look up, for a change,
and say
"Why does this burn so much?"
~MT
11.23.2013 -
I can see myself sitting in the middle of a dark room.
There's a bed somewhere in one of the corners,
but I've never bothered to find it.
I like the abuse of a cold, hardwood floor
as opposed to the undeserved comfort of a bed.
I like myself covered in bruises
from kneeling down
and curling up
and rolling over again and again
over the unforgiving floor.
I like the tears that have rotted the wood beneath me
and left my eyes red and swollen
and blank.
I like my face flushed and pasty
and my skin rising under the cold
of the atmosphere pressing in on me.
I'm comfortable with knowing that
my eyes would blur and sting and just
detest the sunlight,
were they ever to see it again,
and with the nightmares that chase each other
through my mind
even though I'm awake.
I can see myself there,
alone and vacant-minded,
and at the same time,
accompanied by little voices at the back of my head
that sing me to sleep at night
and tell me I'll be okay.
I can see the cuts and burns and bruises
and hear the muffled sobs
that aren't meant for anyone else's ears,
but I'd be damned if they couldn't hear anyway,
if they didn't all choose to ignore.
I can feel myself shaking,
breaking under all of it,
under each thought and memory
and wondering why it had to be me,
even though I'd never wish it upon someone else.
I can smell the alcohol
as my breath bleeds into the very air I breathe
and settles in,
replacing the oxygen with toxins.
I can see the dark,
and it's all there is,
the only comfort
and the only reason I haven't yet gone mad,
and I can see my future,
and it's more than I could ever hope for.
~MT
11.28.2013 -
KrimanalTaDragon Newbie
CHECK OUT MY DRAGON STORY "Lost Found Taken Escaped" -
Or I could not. Thanks for adding a documentation of your stupidity to my thread, though. I really love that.
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IHLAOY NewbieWhat...what even is this? Poetry? Short Stories? A practice for stream of consciousness? I honestly can't tell. Help me out, Sun, what are you trying to do here?
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Whatever the f--- I feel like.
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IHLAOY NewbieWow man, no need for such language, I'm just asking. Keep up the work.
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.w. No need for such sensitivity. f--- is but a word.
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IHLAOY NewbieWell, yea, but it has certain connotations attached to it that make it rude to simply spout willy nilly. Unless of course, you have a loose grasp of morals and culture.
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Are you calling me immoral? Uncultured? Because of a word? Alright. I think I've had just about enough of you. My intellect or morality will not be questioned because a word I use is a no-no for you children.
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IHLAOY NewbieNow now, don't get your knickers in a bunch because someone implied you were uncultured. I'm sure you're a veritable pretty princess. Learn not to take things so personally, it'll help you a lot in life.
All I'm saying is, f--- has connotations attached to it that make it rude to use in regular conversation, unless you live in Australia or are a rather crude person, who hangs around with equally crude people.
You f---ing 'holier than thou' idiot. -
Oh, I'm so hurt. Do you really think you have have room to say I have a "holier than thou" attitude? Yes, "f---" has connotations some people don't like. The only people I'm interested in are the ones who understand that a word is a word. If my language upsets you, don't read it. If you're only commenting to tell me that I might offend someone else, f--- off. I don't care.
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Children scare me to death.
Go ahead now, laugh.
No, I mean it.
This is an invitation to you
not to be the good Christian girl
sitting at the front of the class
with her hands folded on the desk in front of her,
not laughing simply because
it seems unfriendly.
Laugh now, while you can.
There comes a time when everyone will understand
the underlying truth about children
that makes me want to run and hide.
No one will be laughing then.
You see, there's a sickness
that each child brings with it,
wrapped gingerly in a velvet heart
and placed delicately in the hands of a waiting mother.
Children are cruel.
The worst kind of cruel,
because they don't seem to understand
"mean".
Children are not mean.
Just cruel.
They are selfish,
and think not of anyone but themselves,
and though their reasons for this behavior
boil down not only to survival,
but primal instinct,
it's a horrifying concept.
Families can be stolen,
loved ones murdered
so long as it doesn't intrude upon
the agenda of a present child.
Children are cruel and careless,
not for the sake of being mean,
but for the sake of serving their own desires.
It's funny how that girl sits
with her legs splayed out in front of her
and covers her face
and sobs into the crevices between each finger
while snot and salt water drip down her face
and turn her skin to a bay.
It's funny how she cries out for the aid of a teacher
but finds herself too shocked by her own sorrow
to get up and physically seek it out.
Her princess movies will confound her
as she searches her classroom for a boy
to play her white knight,
one who will accept her offered wedding proposal
without laughing and rejecting her.
This is all very funny,
and those who brought her to this state
are proud,
not because they're mean,
but because the others think this is funny,
and the one who gave them
this entertainment will not go unrewarded.
These cruel little games
are met with words like "kids can be cruel",
which, of course, is true,
but I suppose it's not meant to be merely a fact,
but a sort of get-out-of-jail-free card.
These are the most innocent
sort of terrorists.
They're burdened,
too,
though I'm not sure they feel the pressure.
They are entities of hope and fear-
hope for the future,
and fear that this state of selfishness
will one day fail to fade with time,
and at birth, they're given mothers
who will fight tooth and claw
to defend them,
even when it's their fault,
and the ones who aren't
grow up with a sense of privilege
or the constant weight of having been victimized
by God.
They are invulnerable to retribution
and thus far immune to circumstance
or the ability to learn from their mistakes,
and this,
my friends,
is why I'm scared to death of kids.
~MT
12.15.2013 -
**No no no I take it back. Forget it. I added that word because it makes the sentence humorous by using language much stronger than is necessary or appropriate to make my point. You didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't have made this a fight. I'm sorry.
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