Into the rabbit hole we all seem to wander,
And passing walls we begin to ponder,
Curioser and curioser, but far be it from me,
To question what I hear and disbelieve what I see.
Past oceans and rivers and skies of blue glory,
Wandering by creating our story,
With angels and demons on checkerboard trails,
And Cheshire Cats with bright purple scales.
In the morning and night, past teatime I stroll,
Through a poppy field and a green grassy knoll.
Yet I walk alone, sad and lonely,
'Together forever' in name only.
For though love and hate may be two different things,
They both laugh together and fly on butterfly's wings.
And howeve
Do you know why the caged bird sings?
Is it for love or gold or diamond rings?
Perhaps it's mourning and accepting it's lot,
Or maybe it's happiness has already been bought.
No one hears the song being sung,
For no sound comes from a cut tongue.
A cage of gilded gold and steel,
Opened three times a day, each for a meal,
Hung on a rope of aged string and twine,
The light from a candle soft and benign,
But once a month, I'll let you go,
Through sun or rain or raging snow,
So flap your wings and fly away,
but I know you'll be back at the end of the day,
Because no matter how hard and fast you fly,
No matter how fast the world pa
At first no one noticed the music box, it was just a small plastic oddity on the mantle. It was first brought to our attention when my brother asked whose it was. Each member of our family had assumed it belonged to someone else and had never bothered with it. Finally, we all gathered around the kitchen table to figure out what it was.
For he most part it looked like a normal box; about three inches each and a small latch on the front. Curiously enough, however, the latch was there but the hinges were not, so the box could not open. A small protruding screw on the left side was the only indication it was hollow inside.
My brother, yet a
Hours of love for those happy and gay,
but a curse of sadness to those alone on this day.
Red and pink are wonderful hues,
But the only color some see are deep shades of blue.
So, if on this beautiful day of love,
the day of chocolates, day of the dove,
If you see someone sad lonely or blue,
give them a hug and say 'I love you'.
Have you ever had a feeling? I don't mean a feeling like joy or hate, no. I mean that feeling. That slow churning burning a hole in the bottom of your stomach. A darkness so black that you don't even want to admit that it's there. But you know it's there, in the corner of you eye, always escaping your vision.
Have you ever looked at it closely? Have you ever really examined it with a scrutinizing eye? Well look at it. Those are your dreams. Yes, that black cloud of writhing, twisting mass is every single dream your mind has ever dreamed.
But no matter how horrible and unappealing they look now, the second you touch it, it sh
Life can be the cruelest mistress,
sometimes a cold and heartless bitch.
But always watching from above,
guiding us through every stitch.
Society is like a prison guard,
but he's just too blind to see,
that even though I've been chained and shackled,
I'm still allowed to run free.
Conformation is a difficult task,
one too big too ignore.
To constantly divide and conquer,
And avoid the traps in the floor.
God's noose is long and tight,
hanging from a stormy star,
while Satan's arms are long and white,
holding all; from near to far.
Lucifer's a cold hard bastard,
striving for destruction.
The king of Hell's power never wanes,
When I dream,
I spread my wings and fly,
Touching milky seas and misty peaks, so I can fly to you,
When I dream,
The highest height, nor the darkest depths,
Can keep my from loving you,
When I dream,
I run, run all the way to you,
When I dream,
'Good-bye' become 'hello',
So I won't lose you anymore.
You consume me.
Not a second passes when I don't think of you,
You've taken my life,
But it was worth it,
Worth the love and heartbreak,
Worth the laughter and tears,
Worth it to hear your voice,
When you were here.
I want to see your face,
Feel your touch,
Hear your voice.
But I can't fool reality,
Which is why I drea
The space core's final moments by garetix, literature
Literature
The space core's final moments
The orange core floated around in the vast emptiness. His single eye flicked to the left and right, taking in the blackness of his beloved. Stars so far away, yet so close to him. Constellations brought back memories of his father, who was lost for awhile, but was reunited with his son in the reaches of space. His bestest best friend, also in space, Wheatly, floated by, muttering to himself in his spacey British accent;
"Bloody woman..." The core never understood why he couldn't be happy, when in the grasp of the warm embrace of space. Slowly turning in the zero gravity, he felt utter bliss, and his father applauded him.
"Well done son!"
Space is big. Really big. And somewhere in the vast reaches of the universe that is Space, there is a small planet, about the size and weight of Earth. On this planet, which is called Jargos, one particular sckloo, which is the half of the Jargons, a race of five legged gastropods, that have the main reproductive organ. Anyway, this particular sckloo figured out that if one were to absorb one's own mind juices one could figure out the secret of the universes.
Of course, not wanting to be found out, the universe has it's own ways of keeping such things from happening; so every once in a while it blows up a star. Specifically, a star within
Into the rabbit hole we all seem to wander,
And passing walls we begin to ponder,
Curioser and curioser, but far be it from me,
To question what I hear and disbelieve what I see.
Past oceans and rivers and skies of blue glory,
Wandering by creating our story,
With angels and demons on checkerboard trails,
And Cheshire Cats with bright purple scales.
In the morning and night, past teatime I stroll,
Through a poppy field and a green grassy knoll.
Yet I walk alone, sad and lonely,
'Together forever' in name only.
For though love and hate may be two different things,
They both laugh together and fly on butterfly's wings.
And howeve
Do you know why the caged bird sings?
Is it for love or gold or diamond rings?
Perhaps it's mourning and accepting it's lot,
Or maybe it's happiness has already been bought.
No one hears the song being sung,
For no sound comes from a cut tongue.
A cage of gilded gold and steel,
Opened three times a day, each for a meal,
Hung on a rope of aged string and twine,
The light from a candle soft and benign,
But once a month, I'll let you go,
Through sun or rain or raging snow,
So flap your wings and fly away,
but I know you'll be back at the end of the day,
Because no matter how hard and fast you fly,
No matter how fast the world pa
At first no one noticed the music box, it was just a small plastic oddity on the mantle. It was first brought to our attention when my brother asked whose it was. Each member of our family had assumed it belonged to someone else and had never bothered with it. Finally, we all gathered around the kitchen table to figure out what it was.
For he most part it looked like a normal box; about three inches each and a small latch on the front. Curiously enough, however, the latch was there but the hinges were not, so the box could not open. A small protruding screw on the left side was the only indication it was hollow inside.
My brother, yet a
Hours of love for those happy and gay,
but a curse of sadness to those alone on this day.
Red and pink are wonderful hues,
But the only color some see are deep shades of blue.
So, if on this beautiful day of love,
the day of chocolates, day of the dove,
If you see someone sad lonely or blue,
give them a hug and say 'I love you'.
Life can be the cruelest mistress,
sometimes a cold and heartless bitch.
But always watching from above,
guiding us through every stitch.
Society is like a prison guard,
but he's just too blind to see,
that even though I've been chained and shackled,
I'm still allowed to run free.
Conformation is a difficult task,
one too big too ignore.
To constantly divide and conquer,
And avoid the traps in the floor.
God's noose is long and tight,
hanging from a stormy star,
while Satan's arms are long and white,
holding all; from near to far.
Lucifer's a cold hard bastard,
striving for destruction.
The king of Hell's power never wanes,
When I dream,
I spread my wings and fly,
Touching milky seas and misty peaks, so I can fly to you,
When I dream,
The highest height, nor the darkest depths,
Can keep my from loving you,
When I dream,
I run, run all the way to you,
When I dream,
'Good-bye' become 'hello',
So I won't lose you anymore.
You consume me.
Not a second passes when I don't think of you,
You've taken my life,
But it was worth it,
Worth the love and heartbreak,
Worth the laughter and tears,
Worth it to hear your voice,
When you were here.
I want to see your face,
Feel your touch,
Hear your voice.
But I can't fool reality,
Which is why I drea
The space core's final moments by garetix, literature
Literature
The space core's final moments
The orange core floated around in the vast emptiness. His single eye flicked to the left and right, taking in the blackness of his beloved. Stars so far away, yet so close to him. Constellations brought back memories of his father, who was lost for awhile, but was reunited with his son in the reaches of space. His bestest best friend, also in space, Wheatly, floated by, muttering to himself in his spacey British accent;
"Bloody woman..." The core never understood why he couldn't be happy, when in the grasp of the warm embrace of space. Slowly turning in the zero gravity, he felt utter bliss, and his father applauded him.
"Well done son!"
Current Residence: California Favourite genre of music: Ska-Rock Favourite style of art: Misc. stuff Operating System: Windows forever... MP3 player of choice: Walkman(I named her Milly) Wallpaper of choice: Red Dead Derpy Skin of choice: That's creepy, but I've always wanted to scalp somebody. Favourite cartoon character: Fluttershy Personal Quote: I had this weird dream last night...
"I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him. "
- Mark Twain
The true nature is one best concealed.