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Loneliness is only your heart trying to say...So... here is the second -blog- that I feel like writing:
Being lonely... is a problem that can creep on you without you ever knowing what it is. Sometimes you just feel so saddened and like everything just really sucks! It's a terrible feeling and it's even worse some times when you finally realize it's just loneliness and you can't do anything about it, or so you think.
Some people think surrounding themselves with people or work or television will make them feel less out of place in the world. Sure it may work for a while... but what about when you lay your head to rest at night? It's such a heavy burden on your heart to feel like you have no one around to love or appreciate you. I know, cause I've felt this sadness... It was a large part of my childhood.
It still is a part of my life sometimes and I feel like I'm beating myself up because I stay in and seem to have no life but a virtual one. Could I change that? Ya, easily. But you know... I don't really want to right now. My soul
Life's Purpose and how much of a pain it is...So I've decided... keeping up with a blog would just be waaay too annoying so instead of that anytime I have some message to share I'm going to -blog- it on DeviantArt. I figured you can't go too wrong there and plus DA advertises it for you! Blogs are far too annoying for me. But warning you... I tend to ramble so keep reading if you really want to get what I have to say. I'm terrible at forming my words!
So... my message for any who may stumble upon it:
One's life purpose has always been the most difficult thing for humankind. We struggle to find our mission in life and what meaning our lives have! Why do we struggle with all of our pain and why does Creator seem to hate some of us and make our lives miserable???
I have been through a lot... in this life and a few lives before. I've been through pain and hell and terrible emotional turmoil. Yes, feisty, friendly, protective, loyal little me even wanted to kill myself when I was younger. My father was the worst person in my life, my p
QuestionableUp all night,
tossing and turning.
Unable to know the reason why.
It's all right though,
my yearning and burning,
because it will all get better in time.
Dreams quite probable,
everything not quite as it should be.
There's something here,
that can't quite focus.
I feel very near,
of the answers I seek,
but I'm just out of reach.
What am I doing?It has to be a mistake,
this feeling inside.
These things aren't right,
please show me how to hide!
I can't seem to get away,
it's just not right.
Every time we meet,
my heart feels so tight.
Never felt like this before,
I can't help but crave more.
Despite everything I've known,
I feel like my heart can soar.
My stomach twists in knots,
my every breath stops.
My words come out freely,
it's trust to the tops.
This can't be right,
every doubt screaming in my head.
Still somehow it's there,
even as I lay in my bed.
Like fire through my veins,
this impossible feeling.
Every day we speak it grows stronger,
it's like my scars, they're healing.
Every wall I have up,
seems to come crumbling down.
My idea of love,
was always so profound.
Lately I've found,
I'm rethinking myself.
Everything I knew,
no longer can my knowing be up on that shelf.
No one else knows,
how could they understand?
As I turn around,
and deny who I said I am.
Things are getting so difficult,
and I just can't stop it.
A Broken Memory -Part 2-She felt as if she were weighed down by a thousand ton weights. She couldn't move, like her body was numb, she couldn't even wiggle her toes or twitch her fingers but still she felt everything. It was like she was in some kind of conscious coma. She could hear all around her, the beeping of a hospital life line, the air rushing through vents, the muffled breaths of men behind a wall. She couldn't believe it, how heightened her senses seemed to be. She could hear everything; feel everything from the binds around her limbs and torso to the cold table beneath her.
The loudest sound however was the quick labored breathing of someone. The breath sounded smaller than a human's but still large. She heard a shift, the breather moving, claws scraping against another table, a familiar whimper.
Kujo! Nothing came out, just her thoughts and the rush of her breath. Her mouth wouldn't open, her vocal cord wouldn't work. She couldn't even open her eyes, gaze dashing back and forth in darkness. She wa
A Broken Memory -Part 1-The day was moving into dusk, the sun barely visible over the tops of the shortest buildings. The streets were wet with the evening rain, puddles being kicked up by the occasional passing car. All was quiet except the scuff of boots and the slight click-click of four paws on the concrete.
The street lights flickered on as the last rays of light disappeared behind the horizon; the artificial light illuminating a pale young girl and a large brindle Dane.
Dark brown-red hair peaked from beneath the girl's hood, her face aptly hidden by a thin black hood from her jacket. She walked casually, seeming in no hurry at all with a hand in her pocket, a hand on the leash. Her feet scooted along, barely coming off the ground, weighed down by heavy black combat boots. Every now and then a small rock would be found in her path, soon sent off flying into the street by the thick cover on her toe.
The dog suddenly froze, ears perking atop his head, looking down an alley across the street. He sni
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
Skin.I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
Take the time to explore the s
The scarsLife hurts us
It causes us to bleed
Time can heal the wounds
And stop the pain
But the scars remain
For the rest of our lives....
the only letter I've ever wanted to burni.
if you want to give someone the silent treatment,
the first step is shutting up.
things made much more sense
when I was younger.
I thought there was one path,
each choice a stepping stone upon it.
in reality there are a million roads
intertwined like rope.
I got lost
I chose you.
promises are easily broken.
I knew that,
but it still hurt
spending friday night
shivering in the rain,
choking on cannabis perfume
in a dirt parking lot
your face never graced.
and I hoped against hope
you might appear,
but I wasted my wishing
on ungrateful you.
you died before taking your first breath.
I took a chance
and I should've known better.
you can give somebody all you have
and nothing can stop them from
throwing it away.
you've made this bed,
now lie in it.
you slit this suture,
you're the goddamn reason
I gave up on the month of april,
and soon enough you'll fall on your own blade
like some drunken samurai.
if you want
things i don't rememberi.
what you sounded like
as my ears were forming
what dreams or secrets
you confided in me
what pressures sunk
your proud shoulders
or the first time
i caused you
where i was when i decided
that your footsteps
should be followed
that your ideals
should be made my own
on my body
as i learned the world's ways
do not align
with our hopes
when i first
how my feet dangled
every time i wasn't strong enough and
how you made the world
how you were
figuring it all out
thought that life
To the BeautifulYou say we're beautiful,
Us who have been bullied...
But where were you while it was happening?
-I was watching-
You who say "This has to stop!",
There needs to be an end to this...
What are you doing to stop it?
-I did nothing-
It's too late now...
-I failed you-
of me and youthe day you stopped touching me was the day i
stopped speaking to myself. and the silence nearly killed me
LuckyYou talk like you always have a grain of salt,
to throw over your shoulder.
Every word is that hard cheese,
and they swing those whimsical wishbones much like carousels.
You're wasted on your self-image,
staggering down with rigorousness you don't own.
They're taking that steed and throwing horseshoes,
as if one of them might ring 'round your neck;
and save you from yourself.
You'll need a necropolis filled with pennies to barter,
and we won't lend a cent to save your sorry soul.
Your demons count clovers to kiss you,
gluing that fourth leaf to camouflage the truth.
They'd promise you an elephant to watch you die,
sucking sevens to keep you from entering Heaven.
And you can sing your superstitions into space,
but it's dead and empty.
Somewhat like the hollow shell you lounge in,
as the charms make you see spirits.
You say somewhere there's a rabbit dying to give its foot in your favor...
...but don't bet on it unless you can see that whites of its eyes.
Who are we to make these assumptions?
Who are we to doubt what is true?
They said humans would never fly,
they said the Titanic would never sink,
they said that Earth could not touch the stars,
and still we landed on the moon.
They said cars were unrealistic,
and now everywhere we look we see them.
They said we'd never win World War I,
and yet here we are after World War II.
So many things done that were said to never be,
so many things won that were lost in the sea.
So many treasures retrieved from places untold,
so many things learned and so many things to unfold.
With all that we know,
and all that we've seen,
think next time,
before you judge what is:
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More