my mind is a darkroom. i have not slept for five days straight. your mind starts playing tricks on you and you have to sift through the bullshit. i am fucked in my mind. Ouch.
The photos develop perfectly. My father says it is because our darkroom is special. I think it is because they are pictures of us. You and me. Us. Together.
I wish we could stay like that. Together- forever. But the moments are preserved in the darkroom for times when you are far, far away.
Frankely, I hate darkrooms. I am 26 years old and kinda scared of the dark. A large percent of the time I put a light on it a dark room. I just prefer light…is that weird? All types of light.
dark room. full of unknown things .. i hate sleeping in dark rooms yet its hard for me to sleep in a lit room. you could imagine how hard it is for me to sleep. dark room also for some reason makes me think about the cure. The cures songs are ment to be listened to in dark rooms. haha and if you don’t pay your electric bill you’ll be living in one of these.
The sign on the darkroom door said “You can disappear here.” I shut the door and felt the blackness envelope me as if I was no longer real. At first I thought I was suffocating. That feeling made me realize how truly alive I was.
In the darkroom there was a boy who was editing photos he had taken the night before. They were photos of his girlfriend, or rather of the girlfriend he had had last night before she awoke him to the news she was breaking up with him. He sighed as the pictures developed, the evidence of what he thought was happy times but apparently not to her.
Darkroom – the place where photos are created. I was going to write the word “made”, but “created” seems to fit better. The lighting, placement of the camera, movement of the subjects – they all mean nothing without the darkroom. The creation of the image is there, though the image was prepped beforehand. Nothing like a masterpiece at the end of the day.
cold, lonely, him. her.them. can he hear her? is she there? is it love? STOP. dont touch her there. stop bitting, stop screaming. stop yelling.
mommy, is everything ok?
My room at night. hello wow this is kind of weird I am just writing about a dark room. Odd stuff. Absence of light. penis. tehe Darkroom, art thou random like me? I don’t like dark rooms, I much prefer light and other commodiaties. penis tehehhehe. Wow, I am immature. Oh darkroom.
I was all by myself in a darkroom Friday night. Mom and Dad had left for Maine to visit Grandma in the hospital. All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. BUZZ. I answered, “Hello,” but all I heard was the screeching of an old woman.
Cliche much?
a dark room is a great place for privacy, lights flickering barely illuminating the face of the man bent over the workbench. the strong line of his nose is red in the haze as he carefully places a picture in the chemicals.
I sat alone in the darkroom.
It scared me oh so much
I cried, and laughed and went crazy
and such and such and such
I grabbed a clutch
You’re so dutch
in the dark, dark room.
Yeah.
It’s a dark room. Much, lucther0ahoei
As I walk through my house, late at night, my eyes slowly adjust to the dark. I walk downstairs, heading towards the kitchen. As soon as I walk through the doorway, I see a pair of shining yellow eyes staring at me.
I went into a darkroom and he followed me. we laughed nervously until one of my friends shouted come on get it on we cant hear anything. she may have been drunk. we started kissing and he began lifting his shirt over his head. our seven minutes was running out but we could stay in there as long as we needed. this was our time to finally do what we wanted to do. “the door locks from the inside,” I breathed. And he clicked the door locked.
Interesting, there is no light… How do I get out? Okay… Im going to feel for a wall. Nope, just more air. GREAT. Hmmm. Hello? Anybody around? Oh good an echo, I love echoes.
The lights are off. I can’t see anything. I start to make my way around the room, when suddenly, whack! My shins hit an object. I feel around for the light switch, and when I turn them on, I see I ran into the coffee table.
photography. i went to camp and worked in the dark room it was kind of spooky but i loved it it was really cold and i got some really great pictures in there. reminds me of will and d-rod but d-rod got sick. also kinda reminds me of a party or a rave cause it’s all dark really dark. you know? a darkroom where people hookup and stuff
A dark room should inspire fear. Interestingly, the products of a darkroom inspire comfort in most rooms, but after time passes, the charade of the products of the darkroom cannot be continued because as time passes, these products only become sad reminders of a past long gone. Can you come to terms with it?
The darkroom was darker because of his blindness. The impending blast never came. It was all flash and no bang, as they say. But the flash was plenty enough. It had jelled his face and eyes and singed all the hair off the front of his face and scalp. He fumbled his way to the darkroom in the corner and instinctively hit the light switch on the wall, the one that would turn the room red for his work. But nothing happened. He flicked the switch again and again, but nothing. Just darkness. The darkroom suddenly became a bigger phenomenon in his life. And this when only moments before he had anticipated all of his problems being solved.
I went into the darkroom to develop my photos but what actually developed was something else… a vicious plot of revenge. I noticed that the door was locked, so I put my ear to the door to better hear who was talking inside.
Photography, though developed to the point where 35mm cameras are almost being replaced by their digital counterparts, still has a type of magic about it, and this is captured best in the darkroom, the place where images are born!
I studied the pictures that hung dripping in the darkroom. Strange, all the folklore said vampires couldn’t be captured on film. Guess they were wrong. I’ll have to be much more careful. Now to destroy all evidence…..
it’s horrible to be in darkroom. i hate it. because i like more lighty places. for example, in my mom’s house, i always play in bedroom, because it is shiny everytime. yes i’m gay.
I was in the dark room, praying no one would notice me or flip on the light. Sometimes being a spy can get the better of you like that. So I was stuck, no way in, no way out. Now all I had to do was wait for the right moment to escape.
After hours of waiting, someone finally opened the door. I slipped out like a wisp of smoke and was on my way.
dark room infantry corpse last one was in the cellar as the night shines on the sea. Then men risk their lives to battle the devils army and top attack within and do not let go five thousand threehundred men die a day, while all of their family members live on with their ghost. only hurting and dreading the loss and the pain from which they went through. it wasnt worth it and one day maybe one day someone will see you the way everyone seems to look at everyone else. like youre nothing but ordinary and a side show. Nothing important just ordinary and you stay in your dark room, in the closet you keep your skeletons. waiting for them to come back to life, but they wont because you buried them behind your dirt walls and your wasted tears are drowned all of your dreams.
The lights are off.
Why?
How did this happen?
I think I finally then realized I was searching for the light in the wrong place.
I looked to the heavens, and there it was; the light of my world.
My Lord and Savior.
he used the darkroom to develop the pictures he had gathered from his night of spying and stalking from the night before. Just as he was developing the most important of all the door burst open.
In the darck room there stood a small girl, who had alwasys dreamed of owning a skeleton, just the majestic look of it made her happy, she couldn’t help it, sorry. Do you know what else she liked?
my mind is a darkroom. i have not slept for five days straight. your mind starts playing tricks on you and you have to sift through the bullshit. i am fucked in my mind. Ouch.
no light. midnight. home alone. break in. creepy. developing photos. precious memories. losing your mind. alzhimers. old people.
The photos develop perfectly. My father says it is because our darkroom is special. I think it is because they are pictures of us. You and me. Us. Together.
I wish we could stay like that. Together- forever. But the moments are preserved in the darkroom for times when you are far, far away.
Frankely, I hate darkrooms. I am 26 years old and kinda scared of the dark. A large percent of the time I put a light on it a dark room. I just prefer light…is that weird? All types of light.
dark room. full of unknown things .. i hate sleeping in dark rooms yet its hard for me to sleep in a lit room. you could imagine how hard it is for me to sleep. dark room also for some reason makes me think about the cure. The cures songs are ment to be listened to in dark rooms. haha and if you don’t pay your electric bill you’ll be living in one of these.
The sign on the darkroom door said “You can disappear here.” I shut the door and felt the blackness envelope me as if I was no longer real. At first I thought I was suffocating. That feeling made me realize how truly alive I was.
In the darkroom there was a boy who was editing photos he had taken the night before. They were photos of his girlfriend, or rather of the girlfriend he had had last night before she awoke him to the news she was breaking up with him. He sighed as the pictures developed, the evidence of what he thought was happy times but apparently not to her.
black scary sexy lusty nightmares horror peace light closed trapped alone fear lost drowning gone maybe slowly dawn close open
Darkroom – the place where photos are created. I was going to write the word “made”, but “created” seems to fit better. The lighting, placement of the camera, movement of the subjects – they all mean nothing without the darkroom. The creation of the image is there, though the image was prepped beforehand. Nothing like a masterpiece at the end of the day.
cold, lonely, him. her.them. can he hear her? is she there? is it love? STOP. dont touch her there. stop bitting, stop screaming. stop yelling.
mommy, is everything ok?
My room at night. hello wow this is kind of weird I am just writing about a dark room. Odd stuff. Absence of light. penis. tehe Darkroom, art thou random like me? I don’t like dark rooms, I much prefer light and other commodiaties. penis tehehhehe. Wow, I am immature. Oh darkroom.
I was all by myself in a darkroom Friday night. Mom and Dad had left for Maine to visit Grandma in the hospital. All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. BUZZ. I answered, “Hello,” but all I heard was the screeching of an old woman.
Cliche much?
a dark room is a great place for privacy, lights flickering barely illuminating the face of the man bent over the workbench. the strong line of his nose is red in the haze as he carefully places a picture in the chemicals.
I sat alone in the darkroom.
It scared me oh so much
I cried, and laughed and went crazy
and such and such and such
I grabbed a clutch
You’re so dutch
in the dark, dark room.
Yeah.
It’s a dark room. Much, lucther0ahoei
As I walk through my house, late at night, my eyes slowly adjust to the dark. I walk downstairs, heading towards the kitchen. As soon as I walk through the doorway, I see a pair of shining yellow eyes staring at me.
I went into a darkroom and he followed me. we laughed nervously until one of my friends shouted come on get it on we cant hear anything. she may have been drunk. we started kissing and he began lifting his shirt over his head. our seven minutes was running out but we could stay in there as long as we needed. this was our time to finally do what we wanted to do. “the door locks from the inside,” I breathed. And he clicked the door locked.
she feels safer enveloped in the pitch black of the darkroom rather than in my arms. maybe she really is an artist.
Interesting, there is no light… How do I get out? Okay… Im going to feel for a wall. Nope, just more air. GREAT. Hmmm. Hello? Anybody around? Oh good an echo, I love echoes.
The lights are off. I can’t see anything. I start to make my way around the room, when suddenly, whack! My shins hit an object. I feel around for the light switch, and when I turn them on, I see I ran into the coffee table.
photos and fireflies need darkness in order to be seen.
The lights go out an he drinks in the sour, acidic smell of the room. If he’s right, one of these photos will contain the answer to the murder.
photography. i went to camp and worked in the dark room it was kind of spooky but i loved it it was really cold and i got some really great pictures in there. reminds me of will and d-rod but d-rod got sick. also kinda reminds me of a party or a rave cause it’s all dark really dark. you know? a darkroom where people hookup and stuff
In a room on my own who is in here with me is unknown
I can imagine to my fears or delight
A friend stranger or foe
Just might
A dark room should inspire fear. Interestingly, the products of a darkroom inspire comfort in most rooms, but after time passes, the charade of the products of the darkroom cannot be continued because as time passes, these products only become sad reminders of a past long gone. Can you come to terms with it?
The darkroom was darker because of his blindness. The impending blast never came. It was all flash and no bang, as they say. But the flash was plenty enough. It had jelled his face and eyes and singed all the hair off the front of his face and scalp. He fumbled his way to the darkroom in the corner and instinctively hit the light switch on the wall, the one that would turn the room red for his work. But nothing happened. He flicked the switch again and again, but nothing. Just darkness. The darkroom suddenly became a bigger phenomenon in his life. And this when only moments before he had anticipated all of his problems being solved.
The colours shine in the darkroom, though nothing could be seen at the moment. Without the darkness, where comes colour?
This is not really one word, I think… hmmm. Seems cheating to just mush two separate words together to be more specific… Now what?
I went into the darkroom to develop my photos but what actually developed was something else… a vicious plot of revenge. I noticed that the door was locked, so I put my ear to the door to better hear who was talking inside.
Photography, though developed to the point where 35mm cameras are almost being replaced by their digital counterparts, still has a type of magic about it, and this is captured best in the darkroom, the place where images are born!
I studied the pictures that hung dripping in the darkroom. Strange, all the folklore said vampires couldn’t be captured on film. Guess they were wrong. I’ll have to be much more careful. Now to destroy all evidence…..
darkness no light creepy fear dark
it’s horrible to be in darkroom. i hate it. because i like more lighty places. for example, in my mom’s house, i always play in bedroom, because it is shiny everytime. yes i’m gay.
I was in the dark room, praying no one would notice me or flip on the light. Sometimes being a spy can get the better of you like that. So I was stuck, no way in, no way out. Now all I had to do was wait for the right moment to escape.
After hours of waiting, someone finally opened the door. I slipped out like a wisp of smoke and was on my way.
The darkroom was the most evil place i the house. It is the first and only place that I was ever truly frightened.
dark room infantry corpse last one was in the cellar as the night shines on the sea. Then men risk their lives to battle the devils army and top attack within and do not let go five thousand threehundred men die a day, while all of their family members live on with their ghost. only hurting and dreading the loss and the pain from which they went through. it wasnt worth it and one day maybe one day someone will see you the way everyone seems to look at everyone else. like youre nothing but ordinary and a side show. Nothing important just ordinary and you stay in your dark room, in the closet you keep your skeletons. waiting for them to come back to life, but they wont because you buried them behind your dirt walls and your wasted tears are drowned all of your dreams.
The lights are off.
Why?
How did this happen?
I think I finally then realized I was searching for the light in the wrong place.
I looked to the heavens, and there it was; the light of my world.
My Lord and Savior.
he used the darkroom to develop the pictures he had gathered from his night of spying and stalking from the night before. Just as he was developing the most important of all the door burst open.
In the darck room there stood a small girl, who had alwasys dreamed of owning a skeleton, just the majestic look of it made her happy, she couldn’t help it, sorry. Do you know what else she liked?
The orange light, the burning light, the tanning light. Pigmented particles and fractured prism in sepia tones. A darkroom is never really dark.
In the darkroom I am surrounded by numerous people. But I still feel alone. There is no one here but my thoughts.