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gravity is broken
i can't find the exit
i'm lost in my own mind
nothing but darkness
though there isn't any darkness
because its like a black hole
sometimes there are flashes of colour
and images, words, memories
they go by so fast, so slow, so many, so few
that i am nauseated
my senses are off line but working over time
i can touch it,
feel it, taste it, smell it, hear it, see it,
and yet, i can't at the same time
maybe i'm just imagining them
but they feel so real, so alive
i hope they aren't dead
'am i blind?'
'am i numb?'
'am i dead?'
'or just a robot?'
i might be in space
because i can move but i just float
without control or movement
like gravity is switched off
and i'm glued to a spot mid-flight
i think i'm missing something
a thousand somethings
i think i've lost some
but i don't now what, when, where
'but i'm alone, so how could there be others?'
'or was it my imagination?'
Cream Tea or CoffeeOne of the most popular drinks in the world would possibly be one with may flavours.
Bitter, sweet, chocolate, lemon, delicious, just right, wake me up, strong, weak, lovely and a whole bunch of other senses.
You can put anything you like in it.
Sugar, milk, cream, chocolate, honey and all those sorts of things.
But you can do to same with coffee.
Maybe tea and coffee are twins.
I don't know.
But I like my hot chocolate better, thanks.
Haunted OceansThe sea was the colour of a aura from a blue and green mixed fish with white as snow, feathered wings.
The clouds above roared to life as snow, lighting, thunder, rain and winds the blew the ocean surface to giants shaped like wild horses running freely.
The fish jumped through the waves of the storm with glee.
Down in the deep below the creatures of the water slept through the madness above.
Whales brightly coloured sang along with the storm.
Their harmony bringing a beautiful duet to the tragedy of sailors lost in the wrecks that laid in the sands below that were dead but full of life.
Only the ones that love the taste of bones snapping and liquid that was red as wine spilling from the guts of other fish and sea life dared life with the haunted skeletons of ships that once crossed great oceans to boats that never returned home.
a p i r a t e ' s l i f e n o t f o r m e
"T-to be honest w-with you mate-matey," I nearly giggled, but pirates don't giggle, they go 'arrr'.
"I c-can't speak pirate-" I sipped my alcohol.
"-Or e-english," I pointed at one of the crew of MY ship in front of me.
I stared down the neck of a nearly empty rum bottle.
"I s-swear I had more rum th-then that!" I exclaimed.
The deck of my ship shifted under my feet making me feel dizzy.
I moved forward but instead I walked sideways unsteadily on two wobbly legs.
"Bloody ship! Making me w-walk funny!" I shouted in frustration.
I took a swing of my rum and breathed out a sigh of satisfaction.
"Always hits the spot," I had a silly grin on my face.
"Captain?" One of my crew glanced at me.
"Yes? What is it?" I took another chug of my pirate drink.
I gasped and held my rum closely to myself.
"You want my rum? Don't you!" I accused.
"Well you can't have it! Because it's MINE!" I took out my sword and pointed it at my ship mate.
I took another swing of MY rum but only a drop touched my tongue
Commission - niXiecHan.I leaned up against the wooden shelve for support. On my tippy toes I slid the crimson, leather covered book with effort into an empty slot. It was a prefect match. I smiled to myself for my hard work was paid off.
I felt a chill go through me when the old, giant library doors slammed open with his voice outraged and a secret of a slice of worry.
"Where Is She?! Where Is Rena?!" Harpy Valentine shouted in fury at the head librarian. I grimaced at his anger he blew off at the head.
I peeked a good look around the last shelve that towered in the library at his raging feature. I hid back behind the book case. I couldn't just go out there and apologize.
I felt the ground shake from the weight of his pure black armor with a few bits of bright yellow and white here.
I stared downwards interested in the marble, tiled floor with the design of a cracked chess board.
The sound of his boots clicked together got closer and closer to the furthest book case. The volume of the boots went silent.
Commission 2 - Cybaster-Sama.His soul would get lost in those puppy eyes she wore so well.
The words were sweet holding her hands like a child.
The sides of her mouth curved upwards into a smile that he couldn't let drown.
"I love you," Rolled off her tongue like a song a bird would tweet each morning.
"I love you too," He whispered into her hearing.
He softly smiled, wrapping his arms protectively around her seemly fragile body.
Never wanting to let go what he loved the most.
Commission - Cybaster-Sama.Sage gave a faint smile. He wasn't ill or powerless, because a smile didn't come naturally to the pope.
Sage stretched out his hand to her face sweeping carefully a fragment of her dark lock away from her features. He gently rubbed his fingers against her smooth, rosy cheek.
Frowning he placed his hand onto his grand throne.
Kendora lightly picked up his hand placing it on her creamy cheek with both of her welcoming hands giving support.
"Please?" The words were tender.
Sage soften to her loving touch that gave off a pleasurable sensation every time she affected him.
Kendora closed her shadowy brown orbs in satisfaction as she sank deeper into the raw warmth of Sage's hand.
"....Kendora...." The whisper repeated itself ghostly through the muted room which only held the pair in that moment of time.
Her harden brown orbs gradually flicked open to the perfect sound of his voice ringing around her head.
Kendora lifted her refreshed thoughts and collected her silky lips together in a perfec
Chapter One. Axel's Revenge?Chapter One of Axel's Revenge?
It was late and the wind was howling. Axel, a light blue and light green, small turtle held up a dangerously, sharp knife that shined as he walked, stalking the halls. Silent the house was and only that the power had went out, that it was quieter than a mouse and nothing, but darkness was seen, except for golden yellow eyes, with a knife in the creatures hand as it evilly grinned as it neared Rome's bedroom door.
Rome, a fish colour blue skin and his red crown, resting on his desk in the darkness, while he slept a peaceful dream, drawing the wind howling and silence of his soft breathing.
The bedroom door, creek hauntingly open and a golden yellow eye peeked in through a small crack between the door and door frame. His blue hand pushed the door open a little bit more and his eyes shined as he walked closer to Rome's bed, with Rome sleeping on it in a mess of covers and his foot caught in one of the covers.
Album- Three Of A Kind. :D*Album- Three Of A Kind!
*First Song- You Will Sing With Me!
Sushi is made out of fish,
come and sing with me,
I am not bored,
I am just singing randomly,
Seaweed is not good for you,
but fish eye balls apparently are,
Sometimes I lose my mind,
but I can make you scream,
every time I say "Boo",
Though it does not work,
just come and sing this with me,'
I know I am being weird,
but that's what happens if,
I am me,
Have you heard?
That Santa and the cookie monster,
are planing to take over us,
But we are to smart,
for I am not stupid,
I just happen to sing weirdly,
Now just come and sing with me,
Even if I have no reason,
you will come and sing with me.
*Second Song- Watch your step!
Potatoes are good with cheese,
so why not just salad than?
I know is doesn't make sense,
but we invaded mars,
aliens are now on the loose,
I can't believe we don't have a city,
but even if we renamed a country,
we haven't got any more names,
I saw a place,
July 15, 1897
"No! No, no, no! The note is 'F', not 'A'! Preform the song correctly the first time and don't disappoint me any further."
"Start back at the top. For every mistake you make you will repeat the song that many times over until you can finish the song without making a single error."
Abiding his mother's orders, Cyril continued to play his beloved violin. Although he loved playing the violin, he didn't particularly care for his mother's harsh words and punishments. Cyril didn't want to disappoint her, so he continued to play.
"Cyril! The note on the measure is 'F'! How much mired do you wish to anger me!?" His mother scowled and spoke with disdain.
"I'm s-sorry.. I'm trying, I really am! See?" Cyril tried to play the song again, but was interrupted by his enraged mother.
"No, you don't 'try' to play correctly. You will play correctly. You're a noble. You shouldn't be such a disappointment. Nobleman are supposed to set an example amongst the common p
MonsterSince you were a child
you have been checking your wardrobes and under your beds for monsters
But what you don't know that there already is a monster in your life
Always following you
Always with you
Until you die
I guess you don't know what I'm talking about right now
We humans forget that there's a monster inside all of us
Locked in a cage in your head
For the right moment for you to snap and break open the cage for it so it can take control
That monster is our insanity
A raging beast that is inside of us all
But one day cage will break
And the beast will be released for it to rampage
Creepypasta: Pretty Little ThingsCreepypasta: Pretty Little Things
Isn’t it funny how the things that tickle our imaginations as children seem terrifying in perspective when we grow, and vice versa? Even time itself, which seems naught but a blessing to a child, appears increasingly ravaging and crippling to an adult through its bastard offspring, “age”. Eventually it is so akin to the grim specter of Death itself that it turns our bones to ash and, except in extraordinary cases, erases all memory we ever lived. But I am above such things. I have lived for all times and for all ages, and all because of Theresa.
Theresa is a doll of the porcelain variety, although that is like saying that the revolver which was used to assassinate Archduke Ferdinand and kicked off World War I was .32 in calibre. What I’m trying to say is that just thinking of Theresa as a doll is to miss the underlying subtext of what she represents. To illustrate my point, I found Theresa in my bathtub when I was filling it wit
Creepypasta: Bloody MaryCreepypasta: Bloody Mary
The Bloody Mary ritual is probably the most popular method of summoning a spirit among casual ghost hunters. No one really believes in it, and when someone does see something odd after the incantation is performed it is attributed to the sensory deprivation of being in a darkened room. But maybe if I explain the origins of the story you will be a bit more receptive to the truth.
Mary was a waif of a 16 year-old girl who lived in the countryside of Scotland during the Wars of Scottish Independence which occurred in the tail end of the 1200s. Mary saw none of the war however, and for that matter barely ever saw the world outside her family’s shamble of a dwelling except when she was allowed to. You see, her parents were obsessively worried for Mary’s safety. She was their only child, and because they loved her more than life itself, they forbade her from living a normal life so as to keep her protected. They just never wanted to lose her. Ironically,
Ritual of Death Sometime in the 90’s, a group of children were reportedly attacked outside their school building. The school was nearly vacant, and the kids were only there for an after-school club. They told police that they were held prisoner inside while a creature prowled around outside. One boy and a girl tried to make a run for it, and insisted that they were attacked by a creature with many faces.
The boy told them that the creature bragged about having 1000 faces, and offered to show them every one of the faces it had. They both refused to look as the creature’s head began to change. The boy reported that they stood there, facing the direction opposite the creature with their eyes closed, for the longest time until the creature had finished. It then whispered a few words to the boy before disappearing.
The boy only remembers one thing from the words the creature had said, and he called it the “Ritual of Death”. Po
What Comes Out of the Shadows I was always afraid of the basement.
My parents chalked it up to what they called “post-moving paranoia” or something like that. I could only remember that the basement of the new house we moved to filled me with a chilling, dark feeling. I never knew why it bothered me so much.
Even my parents never really went down there. The previous owners had left a ton of stuff down there, and if it had been any other house I’d have been down there searching for anything interesting. I couldn’t go into the basement here though. Not in this house. The basement seemed like its own territory, and you didn’t want to trespass on its territory.
The house itself was nice. My room was small and there was a dent in the wall, but it was nice. My parents had a room that connected to a bathroom, and the kitchen was near their room while the living room was closer to mine. It was a small, cozy house, but
in flesh and bloodHe finds her unassumingly. She's just standing there, cheeks ruddy, bundled in a forest green jacket lined with fake—he thinks—fur. He finds her, hands in pockets, feet atop the grass. The light that floods the panes of her face casts dark shadows beneath her eyes and along her jaw and he thinks for a moment that she might be kind of beautiful.
"Why are you standing before the Eiffel Tower and looking so sad?"
Her head snaps. He counts, one, two, three, seconds, and then she turns her face upward toward the monument in front of the two. They are alone. She doesn't say anything and then she's saying something and he has to turn his attention from the angles of her face to her brown, brown, brown eyes.
"Do you think it's lonely?" Of course not, he thinks. Of course not.
But all he can utter is no as he stares up at it. When she asks him why he sputters and turns to face her again, and sh
Can You Keep a Secret?: Zalgo's ProtegeCan you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret?
"H-h-h-h-hello, loves. C-c-c-c-care to hear a story?" The young boy spoke nervously, his accent easily recognizable as British. "C-c-c-can you keep a s-s-s-secret? W-w-well, alright then."
Before a captive, literally tied to their seats, audience, a young man stood on a stage, dressed all fancy in white. He wore a perfect old English tux, with shirt tails and all. His hair a short and ruffled ginger, freckles on his cheeks, pale skin, his eyes covered by a strange white blindfold. It had strange symbols on it, written in blood. No one really knew what they meant, but one looked like an upside down capital 'A' with a few lines going down across the bottom. The next looked like half star upside down with the two ends at top coming down in two lines past the bottom point, and the last one was a swirl like a pinwheel that was X-ed out.
Strange carnival-like music played in the background as he smirk
Pain, knifes, and birds T-Toby X Reader M/F
Key: (Y/N)= your name, (L/N)= last name (F/O)= Favorite outfit (G/B)= Girl or boy
WARNING! Suicidal content, After life Content, Drug Abuse, Alcohol abuse, Self Harm, and Suicidal attempts You have been warned!
I don't want any BS about it... This is my First X Reader so RAWR! XD Enjoy!
Sirens, so faint, but I knew, They where here for me, My name's (Y/N) I'm (Age) Years old, And i'm currently sitting on top of a 20 story building. A bottle of pills, a knife, and a bottle of Jin Next to me and my feet just hanging off the edge of the building. I left a note by the door when I left the house at 2 am this morning, She was the one who called the cops, My mother.
Anyway, I've never been very good at talking to people, or being around them for that matter, I was always picked on. I turned to my so called friends for help, but they left me, My only true friend Died a few years back, Toby Rodgers, And to be honest I loved him... But he went crazy and killed hi
u n s a l t e d c r i e s o f m + m s
But it still feels like silence.
With whispers of tiny voices that are louder then a truck horn, but didn't make a sound.
I stared at the chocolates.
They're just daring me to.
Giggling at what an idiot I am.
I swear they are.
I glared at the seemly innocent four blue, two brown and one green m&ms.
My right eye twitched as a blue m&ms moves just an inch.
Those evilly delicious little chocolates.
I pick up a brown m&ms carefully with my right hand, index finger and thumb.
I bought the tiny bit of goodness to eye level.
I held the m&m upside down making a 'W'.
"Any lasts wishes?" I grinned.
The chocolate didn't reply.
I was about to eat the m&m when I heard it.
I stopped and glanced at the angel like m&m.
"I must be going mad,"
I shrugged and plonked the small chocolate in my mouth.
Cracking the outer shell the m&m I swear I could hear screams and cries for help.
I sucked on the bitt
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