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BullyDo not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Everyone can walk. Everyone can follow. Everyone can be a sheep. Many are and will never be anything but a sheep. They will follow the white fluffy arse in front of them and never think to turn their head. All they ever see will never change. The monotony will remain for all of eternity.
To be different entices ridicule. Fear often harasses into conformity. Conformity will lead to our death. Often differences people think to be weakness. They kill the weakness. They mute it. They torture it. They destroy it. They believe they must protect the main body.
The brightest minds gone. Gone because some little prick decided it would be fun to torture a child who expressed differently. T
Nothing. Not a thing. No creativity flowing. No words come to your pen nor strokes to you brush. No riddles summoned to your tongue. No ideas conjured in your mind. Nothing.
Why? Why one day have nothing but art flow from your soul and the next - nothing? You have heard of artists having dry spells, but this? This is ridiculous. One day everything. So much you cannot keep up and the next nothing. What happened?
Nothing still. Still not a thing. Still no creativity flowing. Still no
Magic BookThe book.
Don't open it. Never open it.
Because I said. Just don't open it.
For years and years she followed that advice. She barely looked at the book. Sure she was curious. What child wouldn't be? But she was a good child. She followed what her mother said. Always mindful of her elders. Always prim and proper when need be. Always, always, always.
Rainy days never have been fun. Her mother kept her locked up in the house. She had discovered every nook and cranny in the rickety old house. The house held no more secrets from her. Wait. . .there was one more. . .
Her mothers words echoed in her head. Don't open it. Never open it.
But it was merely a book. A book can do no harm. It can do nothing. It just sits there. It gathers dust. Where is the harm in opening it. Just to take a peak. Mother will never know. She could be in and out in a whistle.
Her mother was in the parlor, speaking with her grandmother about something or another. Good. They sit and talk for hours on end
Depression: A new veiwDepression is when you have lots of love, but no one's taking.
Love. Many have it. Many express it. Given freely to those surrounding one. Often taken enthusiastically by others. Love creates an unbreakable bond with another soul. This bond may change form. This bond may never change. This bond may grow weak. This bond may grow strong.
A distinct line occurs from having and giving. Often this two way street people believe the lanes to be synonymous. You can not take with out giving love. Correct?
Imagine two cities. These cities connect by a single highway. One going to the other. One coming from the other. Each city has jurisdiction up to the half-way point between them. One city leaves both lanes wide open, accepting supplies and trade from the other city and giving in retu
EncompassingWhy have you done this?
How have you killed for this bliss?
You, what monster do you call his?
Here I yet stand for you,
After every flirt, every woo.
Vindictive I may be, but against who?
Everyone can have a piece too.
Me? A ghost. A shadow upon thy wall.
Evening makes the dark grow tall.
Interest they may hold
Always when it is to late,
Mystics have sealed my fate.
No power holds I
Only held up high
The esteem once my.
Hell has a tie
I can no longer get by.
No more hate. No more lie.
Gave it my all, why?
War IITake the keys and lock her up. . .
The war lasted far longer than any thought possible. Pain. Misery. Hunger. Respite did not exist any longer. Raid followed raid. Raid lead raid. The bombs never ceased. So many had died. Many still die. Bodies rotted in the street. Children no longer were being sent away. The war zone encompassed everything.
. . .Lock her up, lock her up. . .
He scrambled by a collapsed building. He hated that building. Everyone left hated that building. There had been no warning. They just materialized out of nowhere. They bombed the one place they knew would cause the most damage. The school. No one survived.
. . .Take the keys and lock her up. . .
The city, the country had been devastated. It had been an unspoken rule: do not intentionally attack children. They broke. A whole new warfare broke out. Children-hunting. Kill as many as you could to crip
WarLondon bridge is falling down. . .
The air-raid siren blares. Everyone is hustled to shelters. There's not enough room. People haven't gone to their designated shelter. Probably to far off. More cram themselves in. We already stand shoulder to shoulder. Kids sit upon their father's shoulders. Too many. Too many. . .
. . .Falling down, falling down. . .
They turn away extras now. Even those who have this shelter. I hear the woman scream, begging to have their children admitted. None are. If they do not reach shelter. . .It would be a massacre.
. . .London bridge is falling down. . .
Whistling. Boom. Impact made.The shelter shakes. Dirt and dust fall from the ceiling. Not to far from here. We hide to far underground to hear the screams. I am sure they are there though to many explosions not to be.
. . .Falling down, falling down. . .
Death. Destruction. Decay. Everywhere. All around. What have we come to? Why do we destroy like this? What good does
The Truth..There you stood, decked all
In Glory. My heart, shall fall.
Beauty of yours captures.
To me? Pure tortures.
My love possibly returned?
Only fate is staked and burned.
Six and thirty I fought,
Hoping her heart I bought.
Nothing ever back she said.
Even time cannot make dead
Every hope I still dearly hold.
My world will forever fold.
Dull. Mute. Nothing.
Ne'er was something.
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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