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I used to want to die.Take a look at this papers background… It’s blank right?
That’s what your life is every day if you do nothing about it.
The world is your canvas you paint it, not anyone else.
Pick up your paint brush and paint a beautiful sky that you want to see everyday
Or YOU choose to paint a tornado that takes everything from you, and eventually takes your life if you paint it too many times.
Trust me. It isn’t worth it. I know that’s it is hard, you tell me you can’t do it but you can. My God or your God believes you can get through this!
He believes that you are tougher than every person around you.
He believes th

Brokeback PewdieCry[This fic is actually too long to upload here, so please go to my FanFiction account, or go straight (hue) to the fic here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9301339/1/Brokeback-PewdieCry]

Sleep ParalysisThe demon visited me once again today.

Yes, today. Not tonight or the night before or after; times you’d think a demon would be out. This demon knows no such boundaries, it would seem, and so it usually visits me in the morning.

I lay in bed, having woken up much earlier than I wanted or needed to, with my eyes shut in hopes of remedying the situation. My body relaxed several times, and I felt sleep just within my grasp…
But several times my body found some fault with the split second-imagery of my dreams and jolted me awake, leaving me frustrated, but not deterred.
I would prefer it to what happens next.
The final time I shut

I reread the note todayHe was so self-conscious that he began to come across as bizarre: a thin young man with gaunt cheekbones who slouched around the edges of conversations waiting for a chance to politely cut in, but to those more extroverted he seemed a creep or a voyeur. I knew him a year in silent passing before we had a conversation on the winding staircase beside the wall of windows.

Paused with intention, he stood above me and, backlit by a pale grey January morning, I could see all the blackened angles of his figure in contrast with his hands which rested bright upon the railing: smooth and golden, sparsely haired. When he smiled, he bared all his teeth,

Important You see a different side of a people when they sleep. Some people become rolling and boiling oceans, thrashing around in fits of emotional rage. Others become soft trains, riding down a long peaceful track. Even still, some make an unconscious decision to tell you their life story.
For me, my person becomes a beautiful place of serenity. Whilst he's awake, he's comical, vibrant, and alive. But sleeping, all of those wonderful attributes that make him him, they all become much quieter. All stress and anxiety seemingly disappear from under his radar, leaving only peace of mind and calm. While sleeping, he is more than beautiful.
Sleep is important. But for me, it is not for the reasons scientists say it is. It is a chance to find beauty in those around you where you may not commonly see it, Sleep is a chance to hold someone close, when you're too fearful while conscious.
Find your beauty. N

Forever LetterDear You,

I've known you for a long time and I thought that we could tell
each other anything, but now I know it isn't true. I knew that
your condition was worsening, but I didn't know it was so bad.
I found out that you had cancer the other day. You tried to hide
it from me, but I found the chemo dates in that pocket in your
bag you thought hid everything from the world. From me. From
me, your only trusted person in the universe. And that's not all
I discovered.

Those chemotherapy dates were expired, past. You've been through
maybe six or seven tests now. And I talked to your doctor about
it and he told me that you have maybe three weeks l

The Standard TwistWhat’s considered Normal
If we're all considered Odd,

Is Normal having no beliefs,
Is Normal loving God?

Is Normal picking up a smoke,
And lying down to rest,

Is Normal being better than you can be,
Is Normal really the best?

Is Normal a thing I can strive for,
Is it something I should be,

Is Normal the word you'd use to describe,
What you see when you see me?

In a world full of questions,
I like to ask myself,

If normal is something we aim for,
Why all those trophies on our shelves?

Because awards come from Oddity,
Where you do things with your heart,

And if you do them Normally,
You're hopeless from the start,

Oddity is what

A Stand for Sexuality.I’ve been waiting a while to get the chance and write this just to put it out there and try and make a difference. First of all;

Definition of Homosexual:
adjective
(of a person) sexually attracted to people of one's own sex.
• involving or characterized by sexual attraction between people of the same sex: homosexual desire.
noun
a person who is sexually attracted to people of their own sex.

Definition of Homophobia:
noun
an extreme and irrational aversion to homosexuality and homosexual people.

Now I guarantee that so many people who are homophobic or are uncomfortable with homosexuals, bisexuals, or anyone that is not hetero

Twisted SmilesI stand here looking at the cloudy sky above me. It smiles its most maniacal smiles and laughs as rain begins to pour from the murky heavens. I simply stare into the rain and begin to smile back.

It is my most delirious smile, full of mischief and laughter. The rain responds with a quiet gust of laughing wind. My twisted smile, it curves even further.

I take a deep breath and laugh, knowing that inside of this madness, that this is where I want to be. It is here where my heart desires to be, it is here where I belong, it is here where I am immersed in this sunken abyss.

The raven with his call of laughter, he never seemed so loud. Even in

This ManThis man is different from Pa. He's like a distinct reflection, making my world and understanding different than before.

Ma says that this man once told her that Pa was stupid to drop our family. After that, I always sat in my room--well, a room not MY room--wondering..........what was so special about my family? We're probably one of the worst families there is. A lost woman, now the head of a bunch of lost members, a dazed teenager, an isolated gamer, a quick tempered girl and two pets, who would want to choose us?

His family is more interesting. His wife is one of the religious group leaders at church, his daughter is a high school gradu

If OnlyIf only you could understand the depths to which I hate myself; like a maniac bottled inside a cage with barbed wire around his throat. If only you could see the blood I've shed, bottled up and buried with the last remnants of my being, just to stop offending your eyes. If only you could fathom the horrors these two eyes have lived; so potent in the night, rendering me sleepless still. If only you could feel the fire burning in my chest; the relentless yearning transfixed behind thick walls of flesh. If only you could touch the longing; so desperate, like a fish that swims through sewers, calling out behind dark corners; begging for another l

Blame and TrustNo one really thinks about it when they pick up the knife,

“Yo-ho! I’m here, the party can start now baby!” a girl with dark brown hair, it could be easily be mistaken as black in shadows. In truth there was a faint violent tang to it from her most recent hair-dye. She wore a black tank top and blue jeans there were broken on the knees. A black wrist band and her hair was clipped up making it spike and bounce with each step. Her shoes were black but had a white stripe on the very bottom. She also wore a dark azure ring on the opposite hand, around her middle finger. The way her right side of her face was a long thick hair l

to everyone who gave me a fav to everyone who gave me a fav thank you very much

The American Nightmare*Caution: This story is not safe for young children. It is very scary.*
A little girl comes skipping into her house. She has a bright, cheery smile upon her face and she's holding dandelions in her hands. But soon, the smile is wiped off her face as she opens the fridge...
To her terror, there is nothing to eat. Sadly, due to her American diet and 1st world problems, the only food she is capable of digesting is soda, potato chips, and hamburgers. Not once in her life has she thought of trying some fruit or vegetables. For she is an American.
"Mother!" she cries, "There is nothing to eat!" The little girl falls to her knees and weeps because she's too blind to see that there is still food in the refrigerator. Her handful of dandelions fall to the floor along with her tears.
But there is no reply, because the hunger has already taken her dear old mother. And there is no reply fr

HeartbreakHeartbreak

Do you remember that time you met this guy who seem so great?

Course you do. This is about you as we all know.

So yeah, that guy what was his name again?

Who cares, it's not like anyone cares about him now, especially not you.

… One of those guys, one of those stereotype guys. You know those tall, dark, handsome type guys.

Oh yeah he was also mysterious.

Yeah one of those guys someone you could fall for, If you're not careful.

Unfortunately, that's what happened to you. It wasn't your fault really. He was good at hiding who he truly was.

Things are good at first but then again, aren't they all?

He made you feel

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Papa est un monstreMaman pourquoi tu m'as menti ?

Tu m'avais dit que les monstres n'existaient pas.

Dernieres pensees d'automneUn souffle froid se fait sentir, les arbres tremblent de leurs branches dénudées. Les dernières feuilles persistantes, finissent par tomber. Et la rosée imprégnée de douleur perdure chaque matin un peu plus ; accompagnée de son amante au visage clair, perchée dans les nuages, elles chantent en chœur de bien tristes sonnets. Quand aux nymphes de la forêt, bouleversées par tant de mélancolie, regardent patiemment ce moment d'harmonie. Plantes et fougères se réveillent au doux son des mélodieuses voix, et profitent des derniers rayons de chaleur. Car bientôt c'est un

SouvenirJ'entends arriver la marche d'octobre. Je l'entends recouvrir la vallée de ses mains jaunes. Je vois ce lent spectacle s'établir autour de moi. Et j'observe en silence, car mes mots me manquent.
Je décide de m'aventurer entre ces arbres aux feuilles mourantes dans la quiétude du soir naissant. Porté par un vent froid mon esprit se perd et s'évade.
Puis je retrouve la lune et peins avec elle cette forêt. Au coin du feu, nous regardons les dryades danser, sur le chant mélancolique des montagnes. Et je me souviens …

Je me souviens de ton visage,
Aussi doux que la nymphe sauvage ;
De toute la prof

La HaineCe sentiment exacerbé et violent de haine qui m'envahi,
L'insoutenable envie de défoncer vos crânes contre ce béton humide.
Je suis ivre de vos rires, je suis ivre de vos yeux emplis de gaieté.
Des reflux acides entament le haut de ma gorge,
Je ne retiens plus ce velouté d'horreurs fétides,
Et vomis sur vos vies si parfaites, je vomis à ne plus en sentir le goût,
Je vous vomis tout mon dégoût.
Car je vous hais.

Cette choseLe plus beau étant derrière moi,
Qui sera là pour me défendre ?
Serais-je oublié par ceux qui m'ont créé ?

L'éclat de la vie ne résonne plus,
J'ai cru apercevoir son négatif.
En moi tout n'est plus qu'ombre.

Et cette chose qui rode …

Les rires et les chants me fuient.
Pleurs et grincements de dents,
Voici ce que je suis a présent.

Cette symphonie diluée à vos oreilles,
Ces paroles douces et dures d'un être agonisant.
Je ne trouve plus le sommeil entre les cris …

… De cette chose qui rode …

Maintenant présente dans ma vie,
Elle ne me

Mort Pour La PatrieTon corps tuméfié gravé dans ma mémoire.
Tes jambes amputées symbolisant ton courage.
Et mes larmes devenues un édifice à ta mort.

La terre dans ta bouche et la pourriture de ta chair,
Me prouve que maintenant tu ne rentreras plus.

Tu devais pourtant incarner ma vie et mes espoirs,
Alors que faire face au néant que tu m'offres ?

Je ne suis pas aussi forte que toi,
Cette seule vision d'horreur m'a détruite.
Tout ça n'aurai jamais du être là.

Notre amour est éternel, mais nos âmes sont mortelles.
Et désormais tu n'es plus là, seule, je me consume.

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by ~gradation-of-despair, Nov 7, 2012, 9:05:33 AM
Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Emotional

Mes restes ont menti. Dépouille infertile J'ai pleuré du mensonge. Immense fondement sans valeur. Effondrement des voûtes surplombant le doute. J'ai galvanisé l'horreur dans mes larmes. J'ai ensorcelé l'espoir. Les yeux cousus. La langue tranchée. J'ai vécu un monde. J'ai déçu les armes. Abandonnées. Cachées du ciel. Les coureurs du vide m'ont rattrapé. Affalé. Nonchalant. J'ai capitulé sans lever les yeux. Je suis devenu leur porteur. J'ai incarné le vide. J'ai marché jusqu'au néant. Leur maître. Et l'esclave d'esclave est devenu pitance sans goût. Je n'ai pas su être sa gourmandise. Je n'ai pas pu vivre dans sa bouche. Et mourir dans sa gorge. J'ai roulé contre ses dents. J'ai glissé sous sa langue. Et je suis tombé de sa bave. Rejeté de la bouche. Comme une glaire. J'ai roulé. Je n'ai pas su le satisfaire. Néant parmi le vide. Et j'ai roulé. Jusqu'au chaos. J'ai roulé sans bruit. Sans os. J'ai coulé dans l'abîme. Gencive entre les dents. Coincé comme du porc. Comme le porc. J'ai tiré lors de la chute. Tenté d'extraire cette chair rouge d'entre mes dents. J'ai tiré encore. Jusqu'au choc. Douleur étrange. J'ai déchaussé mes dents. Sur le sol, étalées face à moi. Je les contemple. Elles y sont toutes. Dans un chaos parfait. Première offrande. Et j'ai baissé la tête. Face au maître des lieux. Omniprésent. Omnipotent. Je suis bas. Je suis bien bas. Ô chaos je suis ton esclave. Je saurai être à la hauteur. De toute ma bassesse. Tu m'as avalé. Tu m'as accepté. Je rongerai mes restes. Pour toi. Tu m'as choisi parmi l'horreur. Une immondice parmi d'autres. Je répondrai à ton nom. Deuxième offrande. J'ai compris le mot comme une erreur. J'ai compté les lettres et fait un feu avec. Besoin de lumière incessant. Les mots brûlent. Si bien. Si bien. Je récite, je chante. Le feu doit briller. J'ai construit les ombres. Mes ombres. Immenses et tremblantes. Les mots crépitent et les ombres claquent. Je suis loin des dents et des os. J'ai livré ma peau en pétition. L'abri est vétuste, l'eau polluée et les cafards pullulent. Mais il n'y a personne. Personne d'autre que moi. Personne à qui faire signer. Alors j'écoute les ombres et brûle mes mots. Horreur ! Je me suis vu. Reflet dans les flammes. Je dois tout éteindre. Mais je ne peux plus me taire. Je vomirai à ma prochaine vision. Les mots humides ne brûleront plus. Je resterai dans mes ténèbres. Étant entouré d'ombres invisibles. Ayant peur. Le sachant. Les craignant. Tout continuera. Dans le noir. Mon noir. Mes mots. Sans lumière. Sans voix. Les ombres. Sans changement. Sur la peur. Sans goût. Sans valeur. Sans nom. Dans l'horreur. Pour toujours.

Offrandesby ~gradation-of-despair

Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Emotional

un de mes textes

~MoonaBluesky Nov 8, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Bouleversant. L'atmosphère oppressante et...humide, que dégage ta prose me donne cette impression de réclusion dans quelque cachot souterrain, privé de lumière. Chaque phrase s'enfonce comme un clou dans la chair au fur et à mesure de la lecture. C'est puissant, saisissant et remarquable. Bravo.

~gradation-of-despair Nov 11, 2012

merci beaucoup

ça me touche

~Nahuask Nov 8, 2012

Troublant.Et viscéral.Quelque chose qui touche, qui fait frémir ,là dans la poitrine.Les phrases courtes comme des hématomes.Juste magnifique

~gradation-of-despair Nov 8, 2012

oh merci beaucoup

*lombregrise Nov 7, 2012 Professional Writer

continuation du style... ça marche bien, il y a du rythme, de l'impact. Bravo !

~gradation-of-despair Nov 7, 2012

merci beaucoup

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