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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
.just try not to
that memory, that one
wolf that calls
for the rest
of the pack;
you'll spend all
with them inside
.some people are dead
long before they die -
there's just no burial
for the spirit
gossamer loveyou will love a woman
who uses the word
too often. she will
diagnose dead artists' descents
into madness and laugh
too loudly at jokes
no one understands.
she will braid crowns of
flowers, she will write poems
in constellations, she will
try to walk like a dancer so
no one can hear her
leave. she will be
an ice sculpture, and when
she cries, you'll convince yourself
she's melting, she loves you, you've
changed her, you've
changed; she will wear you
like a comma, like
an incomplete thought,
in her story, and
she will leave you wondering
crooked kissesAn old man sits at a bus stop,
his ragged clothes soaked
through to his creaky bones.
He grips his beggars cup
tightly, but instead of coins it
overflows with rain water.
Passersby pass by without
giving a second glance, brief
cases clenched in swinging
hands, Bluetooth plugged into
their ears. A little girl dressed
in pink polka dots prances
to his side. Her mouth moves
quickly and his takes time to
form words. She giggles,
drops coins into his cup, and
gives him a kiss on the cheek.
He laughs a crooked grin.
CatatoniaShe scrawls life line tallies on her wrists in scars
to mark each year passed
and haunts bars looking for the love of strangers.
she finds malt whiskey and vermouth; strange mouths to kiss
she tips them back the way a lover might tip her chinny chin
She whispers slurs and looks into the abyss of gin.
He inhales death with the smoky kisses of cigarettes
injects life paraphrasing echoes of love with hypodermics to keep
the hypothermia of loneliness back
but it creeps and creeps
a slow paralysis
under the windowsill, rain falling bleak on the pane to drip
into her veins
soft dark over the threshold of the doorway to her soul
writing ink into her shadow, there -
melting behind the lidded stupor stare of dreamless minds
it stirs and wakes,
invisible monsters sleeping in her chest
they bare their teeth and bleed
pain naked in the light of morning
ugly and beautiful in the honesty of strangers unable to turn
from a car crash in the dusk.
walking in darkness
searching for touch.
To the one I forget to loveSunshine girl,
your feet are itchy for the miles
between your sighs
and hunger scratches
at your throat
but you have a smile
that swallows oceans
and your heart
into the Marinia Trench.
this heaviness in you
is a dandelion
coming home to rest
Cigarrete Smokesometimes you want to
kill the world inside you,
but you can't
because you're too worried
because you can't see the consequences
because you don't like modifications
because you can't make up
well you're excused,
excused from giving a damn,
for the cigarette lighter
(I'm too tired to stomp out the ashes
and blow the smoke away).
A Daughter Now BegottenIf reason could challenge the knowledge of infinity,
the blindness of justice;
should we not call ourselves Gods...
And Gods are we not, for if justice were truly blind,
it would hold the same fate for rich and poor alike...
Under the celestial heaven that shines above,
the beggar's crying face and the rich man's arrogant gaze...
So of The Creation we are, living in throngs of solitudes....
Each solitude made torturous by the lust for more money,
yet eased by the kindness of strangers and the love of God...
Which power of change is made,
unto glory from a prisoner down trod,
to a man of faith, who helped a dying woman in need till loving eclipse.
A daughter now begotten, of starry eyes and golden sun ray locks...
Cherished by God and adored by both parents,
though mother soon to be with the Creator Almighty,
this daughter grows up knowing the brittleness of mortality...
...As her lips of red rose blossoms,
her heart aches as the mourning moon that hides behind the bosom of clouds...
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:
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More