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ImpressionsYou wasted a lot of hours wondering, didn't you? Breaking the very pointless into the extremely pointless, and degrading the extremely to the impossibly. But I can assure you, that no matter how pointless those thoughts are, the action itself holds meaning. To reduce everything in this world to rubble is to understand the universe at a primal level.
At first, I feel inclined to regret it. To advise you not to do it. Yet, I know such a request would be superfluous and even counter-intuitive. After all, I know you like I know myself. I know that such a warning would not deter you, but riddle you with curiosity until making you shatter in one prolonged episode of moral depravity.
So I won't tell you to stop. In fact, I will tell you the opposite. Do it. Do it as quick as you can. As much as you can. As healthy as you can. The sooner you discover the truth that I wish I could have never known, the sooner you can get past it. The sooner you can accept it. Your life doesn't have to be
VoicesYou're one of the most fascinating people I know.
Really. It's true!
But that doesn't make you good. It doesn't make you right, either Maybe I'm not the person to make that call, since I don't really know what either of those things are; however, I'm confident they are not you.
You live a very ironic existence, don't you? Purposeless and apathetic. Only finding motivation in the petty and the depressing. And you wonder why you hate life. You've never lived a day of it. You watch other people live it, and you wish you had what they have But you can't. You can't ever be like them, can you?
See! That's why you're so interesting! Anybody different is met with curiosity. Anything that breaks the norm is a learning experience.
But some people are different and typical at the same time. They have these unique quirks about them that make them seem interesting on the first glance; but it is only upon close examination does one realize how typical they really are.
I have trouble with
Sewer ManIt felt instantaneous. As if I had gone to sleep normal, and woke up deranged. As if in a single moment, I had become what I am. I don't deny it, either my being deranged, that is. Any man, and I use the term "man" loosely, is deranged if they stray too far from the social focal point; and by God have I done that much!
It started as a fascination, grew to be an active interest, and eventually became what I recognize to be an obsession. I even remember the day that I completely regarded myself as obsessed or rather, deranged. I remember my insanity became so consuming that I submitted my humanity to it. Yes, that is why I use the term "man" loosely, because I often question if I am one.
To me, a "man" is one who thrives in social environments. There are odd balls, but even those who are troubled are still "man." However, sometimes you get these exceptions. You get these transgenders. These people who may or may not have social skills, just as a male in a female's body may
Note to SelfYou. Yes, you. This note has been written specifically to you and its contents are of the utmost importance.
Why should you trust me?
I am you from the future.
If you tell anyone this note exists, they either won't believe you or they won't understand the significance. The words will mean nothing to the stubborn and will be impossibly dilute to the gullible. You are alone in this.
I have written this to warn you.
In exactly thirteen minutes, you will die. You need to evacuate your home as quickly as possible. Once again, if you don't, you will die.
I don't have the time to explain the complex series of events that have led up to this moment, just realize that this is a matter of life and death for us both. Do not throw our life away. Please, get out immediately.
If you don't want to leave, AT LEAST turn on all the lights you can find. Then there is a chance it won't find you. A slim chance.
Before I end this message, I must stress what I said earlier: I am you from the future. I
First EncounterTitle: First Encounter
IDW Transformers Generation One
Summary: Drift has been watching a mysterious figure roaming in his parts of quiet and peace; he wonders why the same figure keeps coming back…
Warnings: CanonxOC. I have not read the comic book to Drift, though I’m so intending to read one day!
Word Count: 649
The past few weeks, Drift has been seeing a mysterious figure out in the valley where he usually goes to meditate. Though it made no sense to him why someone would keep coming. Unless the figure had a reason to, but he was intending to find out for himself.
As he could see from so far, the figure was slender and white just like him, but with silver skin unlike all white. Dark blue optics that shined in the sunlight as it glanced at him. He was very unsure if it was a mech or a femme, but he didn’t remember femmes being on Earth. Only on Cybertron.
the moonthey always laughed
the other children, when Luna was trying to tell one of her many stories.
they were the same age, but their eyes were not seeing more than the cars and the dust. what possibly can you lose if you believe in fairies of the forest, magic and in the spirit of the world? nobody wanted to see or at least know that the world was alive, breathing, special, magic.
they should have all stopped for a moment;
they should have stopped the engines,
it should be a supreme moment of silence,
of total stillness
and maybe then they would have heard.
how could she make them all understand that the leaves are eyes, that the trees are spirits, that every little thing alive has a soul? how could she make all of them understand that the snowflakes could be the wings of angels? by writing a story? isn’t that ironic? would anybody read it?
now Luna is staying awake till late at night,
till the cars would stop
and the people
and all the other noises
tempestasnever let Luna stand in a thunderstorm too long, it will become her resurrection. the wind and bassdrum of water is the same thing as Cardiopulmonary resuscitation, 32 beats before she leans her head back and laughs in a way that sounds like she’s finally alive. the lightning will be a defibrillator right across her brainstem and her eyes will become full of an unbearable brightness, too powerful to stare into and too beautiful to turn away from. she has became a witch in that instant as if her whole body is trembling with a magic so potent it could atomize her, as if the only thing tying her to her body is just her skin. all else has became a tempest.
please. don’t you know that lightning burns five times hotter than the sun? you will see her like that with her wild nature exploding from her cautious one - you will see her like that, that perfect moment of being recklessly undone - and she will burn herself into you for an eternity. you cannot stare into the heart of that
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All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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