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Musings of a FatalistFate cannot be changed
I have fought against it
But, in the end, this is preordained
I've long stopped fighting
Only meeting whatever with acceptance
Giving in to whatever fate offers
Call it what you wish
Be that despair or what have it
I can't fight what is preordained
The which that is inevitable
It is better this way
Really, it is
Better to accept
I've long given up
I suppose I found comfort in that
As fighting brought me nothing but misery
Why do you look so sad?
You should be happy that I have found solace
In what others would call despair
This sort of existence is not for you, I suppose
This sort of existence isn't for the faint of heart
Or anyone that can live that live like this
Do what makes you happy, in that regard
Exist as you see fit
You can go on your way, whilst I
Stay with the musings of a fatalist
Lucid Dreams VIII: Fate Cannot Be ChangedHello there
It is nice seeing you
You ask why I am sad
Well, I haven't much a reason to be happy
Not at this time, no
Actually, this world is decaying
Both the real one and the outside
Neither of us will be returning from this dream
It was fate that brought you here and fate cannot be changed
You were fated to die here, while I perish and reincarnate
Fate has had that way
Right now, we are dying
But, before I reincarnate
I'll need some company
In this fate that cannot be changed
And this is your fate
MulberryIt looks like a blackberry
But it grows in a tree
Blackberries don't grow in trees
I later found it out it was a mulberry
And it grew on a mulberry tree
Is that cage bird finally free?"Is that caged bird finally free?"
She’s asked, yet she doesn’t reply
She doesn’t know the answer, yet it seems she does
"A caged bird may be free from her tormentors but that doesn’t mean she is free from her past…"
——Is what she says
Continuously musing on horrible times gone past
She was at their mercy then and they continuously torment her
In those memories of horrible times
"売女" was the name was given to her by tormentors
She wasn’t given a choice and they held them hostage
They would have her either way
It remains her regret
Is that caged bird finally free?
She doesn’t know, thus she remains silent
Musing on a time when she was very little
No more than a crying child, wrapped in a purple blanket
She cried out for her parents and they’ve never returned
She’s never found them, her heart shattered in as many pieces as there stars in the sky
She’s spent her life picking t
Deliriums of a Little GirlA little girl, with hair of white
Eyes of moonlight blue with a stare of blank and ice
An innocent mind so clouded with lunacy
Winter left behind no pleasant memories
She was really little
Neither could she really talk
Someone suicidal attempted to kill her once
She never knew
Yet, she trusted her nevertheless
That memory manifested as an imaginary friend
Or not, as she cannot see her, the others can
And they writhe in terror
She remembered the screams from that screaming woman
The screams from that raging lunatic woman
She didn't know her mind was ill
Those screams still echo and she remains unfazed
Someone close to her attempted suicide
Unsure what was happening and unable to do anything
She sat by, watching as the bubbles stopped
Now, she cries out, "DON'T LEAVE ME!!" in her voice
There are bloodied handprints
And the cries of babies
They are not from her
The air feels cold
Water drops to snowflakes
It feels like winter again
The tears never end
Neither do the memories
A Review of Dawn of The Planet of the Apes
Hello, this is Raz and here comes a nice review of Dawn of The Planet of the Apes. Anyway, I thought the movie was pretty cool and the soundtrack was awesome, capturing emotion during every scene. The plot, I found to be well executed and I found myself heartbroken by the end. An'way, I do recommend you go and I see it and get back when you do
She Asks If She is DyingYoung and sweet
Yet, silent and somewhat reserved
She is a little a girl
Her mind afflicted with lunacy
Her smile concealing her long incomprehensible misery
Of the very lunacy she suffers
Yet from her blinded eyes are tears
Forced acceptance of something she can never tear herself away from
She looks to someone
Smiling, as if nothing is really wrong
Asking if she is dying
She's resigned herself to it
Believing it to be an illness without cure
Resigning herself to the equivalent of death
Am I dying?
In body she be well
But in mind she be ill
The misery of which eating away what sanity remains
What is being lost
May not be so easily regained
She knows that
Shikata ga nai
Yet, she asks if she is dying
Killerbunnies I: MeetingAlmost everyone was sent a letter of acceptance and I knew there would soon be more recruits into this underground. Amongst some of the recruits were I and my comrade Creamline. Frankly, I couldn't have thought this be better myself, after all, we had been roaming around, with people on our asses, well actually, mostly mine. Of all of this ugly world, I thought it'd be nice that we have some other people like ourselves. When we were ushered onto the room, Creamline thought it would be fit to get to know everyone. I remained reserved, observing everyone from afar. Some of them stuck out and others so very little. Of course, I didn't have the get to know everyone because I was given access to the database.
The 26th killerbunny was Anwen von Eyre. She was in a wheelchair, with a breathing tube down her throat and an intravenous drip in her arm. Going by her appearance, I could tell she was sick and probably on her last legs, not having much long to live. Despite her illness, she was
Magus' Review of Non-StopSalve, Magus est lepus and I have something nice to share. Sure, this movie is probably on DVD by now or whatever but it is a nice movie. I have found the movie to be rather scary, being that air travel is already frightening enough, especially since that day, but I found it was executed well and I had enjoyed it and Liam Neesons's performance.
Silent but Awesome--Prussia x Mute!Male!Reader-PT2
Previously: ' "You know,you're going to have to take care of him. You conquer,you raise." He pointed out,his eye brow twitching. The albino stood and stared at the sobbing mess on the couch,one thought running through his mind repeatedly.
This was going to be un-awesome.'
It had been silent for over 5 minutes which,with Prussia,was a new record. Germany stared worriedly at his older brother who seemed to just stand and stare,poker faced. He didn't know what to do first;Snap his brother out of his trance or stop the poor crying,frightened capital. Yes,Vienna is still sobbing and wreathing on the couch. Clearing his throat,Germany attempted to get their attention.
"Bruder...you should probably,oh I don't know...comfort the poor guy?!" Prussia nodded reluctantly,and sat down on the couch. Vienna jumped,casting a glance at the albino,who in return just smiled.
"I'm the AWESOME Pru-" Prussia st
Don't Look Under the BedThe only rule we had when we were children was to never look under the bed.
Not just any bed, but the bed of our mother. She hid something down beneath the bed that we weren't meant to see. Some great secret protected by the boogeyman, she would tell us. "If you get on your hands and knees and try to look... he'll jump out! And grab you!" After the threat was made, she pounced on either myself or my brother, laughing and tickling until we were nothing but a pile of small giggles on the floor.
We took the words seriously, however. Running into the room to awaken our parents on holidays like birthdays or Christmas, or Thanksgiving, any of them and never once did we look under the bed. Sometimes we hesitated, sometimes we thought there would be a hand reaching out to grab us if we weren't fast enough. The ruffles of the bed covered the foot of the bed, so logically as the little kids we were, jumping at the foot of the bed was safest. It's what we always did, to get onto the bed and avoid
Daddy are you proud of me?Daddy are you proud of me?
Daddy are you proud of me? The only phrase I recite as I lay here. The only question I think of, glued into my mind, as I stare into the abyssal swirls of the ceiling, in my new-found sanctum. A runaway at 18, thought of as a joke. Think about it… I have achieved high grades, some A’s, B’s and 3 D’s. That was my problem. Those D-isgraceful marks on my grade sheet, that’s what every top university really looks for. Not the A’s but the D’s. So now I know my chances for life and how I will now never make it in life. Daddy, are you proud of me? It’s a simple question really. I tried my best and messed up. So my best is a joke, my life is a joke and my education was clearly… a joke. So as I lay here, slightly delirious but seemingly clear minded, I ask myself. Daddy are you proud of me? ‘I did my best, just like my rest, but just couldn’t handle my final test’ were discarded word cluster
The Letter(you're gonna cry)Hey! I'm Alanna Elisabeth Spot. I'm going to tell you something about me. Chris' next death anniversary is gonna be soon so I've decided to tell you the whole story...
I was born in Mexico City. My parents were Miranda and Patrick Longman. They died during my college. Before forming the Spot Stars mob/band with my daughters, I used to be a solist. During the world tour I met Christian, my first love ever. He was a meerkatmunk just like me. He was born in France and spent half of his life there. We kept talking to each other, sending messages and after three years we finally got married! We moved to Botswana. I had always wanted to live into the Africa. The Kalahari Desert was dangerous, but during the rainy seasons worth living. My husband had straight, a little bit spiky, pale red fringe covering half of his face with a dark brown stripe. His eyes were dark red, even hazel. He was my only partner that had black glasses. I'm never gonna forget the day our first child was born, a daught
The Story of DevinThe Story of Devin
This side of town has always been rural. In place of large skyscrapers there were acres of farm. Some held large tracks of crops while others may hold livestock such as cows or sheep. The town may have been made up of peon farmers and moonshiners, but that doesn’t mean the people there were behind the rest of the world. The people knew of all the technology of the outside world and had some of it themselves, but the people down here prefer good ole hard work in comparison to a machine doing it for them.
A tall, lanky kid lived down there by the name of Devin. He was always a little different compared to the other kids. While the kids from the city were short, plump, and pale, Devin was tall, skinny as a pole, and tan. He was the odd ball, but he never seemed to care. He was always that smart, quiet kid in the back of the room, who seemed to have no friends.
Nobody really messed with him. He just sorta scared people just by being there. I believe he made people
The Mortal and the Immortal 4I screamed as I hugged my knees to my chest. I locked myself in the bathroom an hours ago, to hide. Taine and I had stayed away from one another. We didn't speak and when we did, we would start fighting. Today I asked Taine a name for the child.
"Why would I care? It's a burden."
"It? It?! Taine, it's a human being! At least it isn't a bastard!" I cried.
"A mistake! That's what it is!"
Tears leaked out of my eyes and I cried. "My friends were right. Mortals do disappoint you..."
By then I had run up to the bathroom to hide. I had my hands on my face, looking into the mirror that was the wall in front of me. My face was puffy, red and my eyes were swollen. I placed my right had on my stomach.
A bulge that wasn't there yesterday that had formed. I screamed out in horror.
"Sable?" Taine knocked on the door. "Are you alright?"
I shook my head.
"Sable, let me in."
I crawled to the door and unlocked it, then slid back to the corner. Taine came in, a white box in his hands.
A Change of Pace Things at Fallbrooke Equestrian Center had been horribly wrong for quite some time. There had been an outbreak of a seriously severe equine illness, leaving half the stalls empty; horses having either left from death or being sold in order to keep the farm from going bankrupt.
"This isn't working!" Kipcha screamed in frustration, knocking random things off of her desk. "I've never heard of an outbreak lasting two years."
Jamie sighed, starting to pick up fragments of the broken coffee cup that had shattered on the floor. Kipcha continued her rant.
"We have two horses still in quarantine. We need to stop this thing right here and right now. If this spreads around to the other horses even one more time, we can kiss the farm goodbye." Kipcha sat down in her desk chair and clutched her head.
"Even if we do get through this and get back on our feet, what are we supposed to do? We had to sell a lot of our good horses including Enzo and Queeny. We have too m
Ariza's TheoryMom used to tell me about my little brother. She never met him either, but she’d heard a lot about him. She showed me pictures of him and he’s real cute. What I can’t get over is his white hair. He looks a lot like Dad.
I don’t remember my dad too well to tell the truth. He disappeared when Mom died. I remember that he always called her his sweet Kee. I always thought it was lame and stupid, but most people just called my mom Kay. She had a real sweet voice.
Something I do remember about my dad is that he had a nice voice too. I always wonder what Seth sounds like and if Mara can sing because I can’t even though Mom and Dad could real well.
Mara is my dad’s wife. He never married my mom. Sometimes, though, I have these recurring dreams in which my dad loves me more than Seth and Mara. I know that it’s bad to wish for something like that, but truthfully I don’t mean it. I don’t like the dreams that much.
It is nice to believe he didn
He showed up to that God damn funeral. Not for anybody else’s sake but for his own.
He approached the casquette with a sullen countenance and gazed into a withered face. He saw those saggy jowls sulking away, those dark bags under scornful eyelids.
Muttering his final words cold as the corpse before him.
“Good riddance, you mean old son of a bitch”
He utters a tired breath and leaves the funeral home, stepping outside for a moment of solitude – and a moment of comfort. Out comes his precious flask, pouring a strong bitterness down his throat.
Just like his old man.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More