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UntitledThe stress within me follows my every move,
Throughout these troubled times I see myself as a faint shadow of whom I used to be
Yet in other times I see myself as nothing but a failure to the place from which I come
Not a day goes by that I even look to myself as someone of any value yet I manage to make it through these days just scraping by hoping for the the faintest whiff of what lies over these next hills for they are clouded in a mist full of hatred and despair. I want to enter it, to feel it, for it to consume my entire being. Yet pressing forward in such a manner is not who I truly am.
I must stand my ground and walk this shadowed path winding slowly through the swamps and the trees. A jungle at times it almost feels, but at other times it appears to be quite empty. Like there really isn't anything there that can do me any real harm.
Let the rain fallAs the water falls down
I sit within
All around me it hits gently
Calming Soothing Painful
It hides much within its grace
Yet brakes down the strongest of stone
It speaks gentle words of the world
As I move it changes
Making all different
And all better
FallingTo the ground we all fall, upon this earth we lay our heads
Nothing to catch us but a gentle breeze
We drift about in this life like a leaf in the wind
No true direction, only guesses where we will lay
As we land we make no sound
The earth groans a silent sigh of relief knowing we lay safe upon it
It starts to rain
As we lie in waiting drops land upon us
They roll down our cheeks
Cold trails form on us while they roll over our warm faces
To the point tears and rain become one
Our true emotions show
Where love, hate, sadness, happiness,grief and jealousy combine into a bliss of emotion
We become weightless once again
As we continue to fall we think of our life
What we want in it
With such clarity that all is shown, the veil over our eyes is gone
Only the light shows through
As the earth grows greater in view we slow
With the wind
With the water
We become one
Reapers Of the Living One"Hey jack?" James says in a low tone.
"What James?" as jack replies with the tone of annoyance in his voice.
"Do you still remember you life before we got sent to hell and became reapers of the living?" asked James.
Jack utters to James "yea I remember, I miss it every day. Thanks to you though I got sent to that prison and killed in that explosion!".
Whoa, really? You are blaming that on me? It was you who wanted to make the self sacrifice to save that girl that you loved jack. I gave you a choice, I detonate the nuclear device and you live a life with the girl, or we both go up in the explosion and look like we are heroes. But no, you wanted to look like a hero, well we were never really heroes after we were on the run.
Yea James, I know, but still, it's your fault that we got sent to prison you fucking asshole!
Hey, hey knife slinger. I had to kill off my entire corporation, they were corrupt and having me kill the innocent. Heck we barely had any contact before I went ro
Reapers Of the Living :Benny:First Name: Benny
Last Name: Kalkins
Eye Color: Red
Hair Color: White
Cause of Death: Drug Over Dose
Demon Name: Benny
Occupation: Hells Gate Keeper and looks over the reaper program
Normal Attire: White suit from the 70's with a purple silk shirt, has black crow wings
Habits: Randomly showing up at the most inappropriate times for jack and James, Enjoys punishing the dammed as they enter hell, Enjoys dropping his annoying little stalker (Ashley) off with James and jack where she drives them absolutely nuts, always leaves one feather dropping slowly to the ground when he teleports from place to place, Enjoys appearing in front of James when he is getting ready to take his shot on a kill order
Favorite Drink: Dr. Pepper
History: Originally from the 70's he had died due to a drug over does in a club, he was sent to hell because it was categorized as a suicide, Lucifer for some reason greeted him with open arms and made him gate keeper of hell, h
Reapers Of the Living :Jack:First Name: Jack
Last Name: Winston
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: White
Original Occupation: Military analyst
Reason for Imprisonment: Framed by the government
Cause of death: Assisted suicide by James
Demon Name: Hasn't chosen yet
Powers: Can put extreme amounts of kinetic energy into anything he throws, heightened reflexes, super sensitivity, non human speed and agility, the ability to heal within seconds and have no scars, non human strength, teleportation, when he has his demonic powers he is invulnerable to every weapon known to man, can create a weapon from anything he finds
Job Skills: Top Ranked Marksman, Tracking, Explosives Technician, Manufacturing of Weapons, Survival expert, No Remorse, Insanity
Past Training: Ex Navy Seal, Navy Sniper, Navy Explosives Technician
Weakness: Women, caffeine
History: Lost all family at the age of 12, Lived by himself for years in the wilderness staying in the family cab
09-11....I Can Still Remember If one closes their eyes and thinks long and hard, they can still remember.
They can still remember the glory that graced the New York skyline before the dreaded 11th day of September in the year of 2001 when hell burst through the skies, and rent the world into ruin and sorrow. Families were broken, hearts were shattered, and nothing would ever be the same again. The security of our nation was never again taken for granted. We thought we were safe forever....then, we realized we weren't. Because we are the most powerful nation in the world, we thought no one would ever do us any harm. We though we were invincible. We thought were like the Titanic...unsinkable.
The towers fell, they crashed to the ground, and the rubble filled the streets. People were trapped beneath it, and many cried out for help, but sometimes, no help would come to them. The steel was wrenched in all sorts of ways...it was the skeleton of the towers, an
Descriptive PortraitureYour eagerness to begin our first day together, in person, was as bright and warm as the golden California sunshine that crept playfully into your window. You waited to wake me only for as long as you could stand to, then tousled my hair and spoke to my jetlag-stricken self in singsong until I stirred.
Your own dark brown tresses, unbrushed, fell flawlessly around your face and onto your pajamas-clad shoulders as you responded to a few e-mails on your laptop. The contrast between your skin and hair in the light of dawn was absolutely striking. In mid-dress, I whipped out my camera and sneaked a picture. You mock-fumed when you heard the shutter click.
"Don't worry," I reassured you. "I won't post it anywhere."
But I did, and thank goodness you were forgiving. It was too perfect not to share. Even my smarting eyes could tell that your face had expressed the utmost sense of joy and serenity.
* * *
That blue-and-white-striped Hollister shirt had been a staple in your wardrobe for ne
DaddyI can count on two hands how many words I said to you today.
I say two hands because I like rounding up.
Remember when I used to pretend to be asleep in the car on the way home from Grandma’s so you’d have to carry me into the house when we got back? It wasn’t always you carrying me, sometimes Mom or Matt did, but I’m sure you knew that I was faking it and you happened to like carrying me just as much as I liked to be your little passenger.
Fake sleeping was something I did a lot, and I’m sure you knew every time that I did. I faked it so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed so soon in the morning.
I faked it so I could sit in my room until dinner had long since got cold and you’d gotten tired of calling for me. You don’t wake a napping child; it’s far too hard to get one to nap so you just let them be.
Though you always knew when I was faking sleep, I doubt you ever knew the times I did because I was feeling guilty.
Crystal of Dreams I enter the little shop, and it catches my eye immediately. That crystal, so square in its pointedness, so blue in its paleness, I know that crystal, I am sure of it, for I have seen it many times before. I can still remember when first I saw it, in fact.
I was lazing one day by the riverside, under a large green leaf for shade, when I heard the sound of something approaching, like a boat paddling up the river. What I saw though, glimpsed through the twisted vines, was no boat though. It was some sort of serpent, or large eel, with grey leathery skin, with it's neck stretched upward and its head towering over the tall jungle trees. It was moving quickly, unnaturally so for something of such a size, splashing me with a great torrent of water as it passed by, so that I only saw for a moment that a solitary figure, human probably, sat atop its head, and that it was being followed by some sort of black flock, or swarm, though those horrible things could be calle
Another worldShe rested her head on the plane window and let the electric guitars and screaming vocals flood her ears. The drums pounded away, and the dark, melodic vocals soothed her grieving soul. Her blue eyes surveyed the air around her; she longed to see someone. Even if it wasn't possible, she dreamed of seeing him. A crash of the symbols and a final riff collided in her eardrums, signaling a grand finale. As the vocalist screamed at the top of his lungs, she watched the world around her fall, as she slipped into another world.
She traveled to this dimension, eyelids heavy from her journey, and sleep embraced her peacefully.
But still he haunts her dreams.
Stop saying I shouldn't get raped...When I was 18 years old I was sexually assaulted.
In the warm summer months following my high school graduation I basked in the sunshine of my newfound adulthood. I had a car, a steady job, and the freedom to leave town for weeks at a time. I returned home infrequently, and these trips were almost always in the name of social calls.
On one such occasion, I attended a party with one of my best friends. We drove along the winding dirt roads of Colrain, in search of our friend’s far-off farm where we would not be disrupted or caught drinking underage. The briskness of the night was a welcome break from the oppressive heat of the August daytime and as we sat around a roaring fire, passing around a bottle of vodka we had soon melted into heaps of laughter. We soon found ourselves running through the nearby cornfield, full of joy and stripped of any restraint our soberness provided. Back by the fire, this loss of inhibition manifested itself differently.
Kris, barely my acquaintance, d
A walk in the Rain ForestI took a walk in the woods the other day and took a lot of photos.
It was a walk in the Olympic Rain Forest
To see what it looks like, click the link below
Rain Forest slide show video
Story of HerAnnyeong.
The word meant “hello”.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hi…” I whispered, being the quiet and lonely kid I was.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked.
“No… I don’t mind.”
We were on the bus for a field trip to the high school for our 8th grade Tech-Ed class. I felt nervous yet happy that she was sitting there. I’m sure she was sitting there to be next to her friends, I thought as I looked out the rainy window. I could feel her looking at me and I could hear her and her friend giggling. I’m sure she is just mocking me. That’s what everyone has done, I thought. She tapped my shoulder and handed me a little note.
“I like you,” it read.
I met a girl in my 8th grade year. She sat across from me in class (the class was seated in a “C” shape) and I saw her every morning. I couldn’t bare to look at her. It wasn’t because she was repulsive, but the complete opposite.
SalvationMusic had always been my salvation. In elementary school, my music teacher discouraged me from continuing practice on the flute. I wasn't doing "well enough", I couldn't blow hard enough to make a solid note. But instead of telling me to quit, he showed me the bells, my first glimpse at mallet percussion. I didn't have to pound a drum loudly like the other percussionists; reading the music was the same as I had been studying for the flute. All I had to do was tap out the notes on this unique piano-like instrument.
I reveled in mallet percussion, loved having my own part to play in the grand scheme of the music piece. I was an individual without being completely in the spotlight. As the years progressed, I held my post with no challenge; no one else knew how to play mallet percussion. Throughout middle school it was the same; in lieu of learning snare drum and sticking, I played fanciful melodies on the bells and vibraphone.
In high school, I joined the concert band, jazz band and orche
My demonLaying there, quietly, alone
The feeling of something is there, unseen, but there
I sit up, but my body remains laying down
As I shout "show yourself" the figure becomes more visible
I lay back down and see the creature standing there
Glowing eyes piercing through me, Head of a wolf, tall, very tall
Draped in a long black hooded cloak or robe
Its hands, I can never get those things out of my head as it reached for me
Long fingers, almost like claws that are twice as long as the finger as a man
This is what haunts me, this is what hunts me
It grows closer
Help me before it hurts me more
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More