deideiblueeyez
As the words rush out, relief sweeps over me. I never thought that it would feel like this; I always forget, and hate myself for forgetting how -liberating- it is. Talking. Explaining. Relenting. Revealing. My pain. Everything that has happened. The words that have beaten me black and blue are now out in the open, and someone is there to listen and learn, learn what I've been keeping inside me until now. A rush of hope. They can help. I just need to explain, to admit my pain. Then it will be all over: The hollow sensation of loneliness, like no one realizes that you're crying on the inside: The reason why I'm crying is....
The way the fight over land that should be shared equally. The way they promote their deity, their invisible and perhaps non-existent 'supreme being' as being 'the one and only true Lord our God'. The way they cut down anyone who dares ask the important questions: "How do you know?" "What if I don't believe?" "Why should I believe?" Primitive. Truly primitive.
The reason I didn't kill him... Have to think quick, the officer is looking at me. He knows I have no alibi. He knows I'm thinking of one, a lie as to cover up the fact I DID kill him. But he's waiting for me to commit the sin, to lie to an officer so that I will have to be booked and brought before court. Should I ? Or shouldn't I?
They are plastered onto my seafoam green walls -- a color I had no hand in choosing, I must add. Posters of my favorite anime, Naruto. Gaara at the foot of my bed, staring at the full moon. A picture of Kakashi reading his pervy Icha Icha Paradise book while mindlessly scratching the head of one of his ninja hounds. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, the Sand Siblings... all characters from my most favorite anime and manga. It is a testament to my devotion to this series, my fandom. I don't care if it's nerdy or immature, I am proud to be a fan.
There it was, spread across the wall of her bedroom. Her idol, her hero, her role model: Joyce Clancey (AN: made-up name) . She was independent, she was smart, she was strong, and she wasn't afraid to say what she felt. Alice pushed her glasses up to her nose; all she was was a shy little book worm, nothing at all like Miss Joyce. But someday.. maybe ... if she kept that poster up throughout high school and touched the woman's portrait everyday before school and before bed.. maybe.. some of her talent may rub off on her.
All he remembered from that one encounter was the earring. Golden hoop with a jade trinket hanging in the middle, slowly rotating like a pendulum whenever she turned her head. Her face was foggy in his memory, but that one glimmering piece of jewllery stood out among the drinks and the hazy smoke of cigars and other narcotics. If only he could see it once more. The next time, he would cut off that ear.
He walked down the street, dressed in black like a shadow. Moving silently, traipsing across the sidewalk to get home. It was getting dark, and beneath his hood he could see a streetlamp flicker on, sending a chain reaction down the street. Almost past curfew; he would have to hurry.
Run, run, run, jump, leap through the air, turn, and land. The judges lift up their cards for judgment: 9, 7, 8, 9, 6. A few boos at the one who held up the 6, but other than that, cheers and enthusiastic clapping from the crowd. They've come to watch this perky little sprite show her stuff on the pole vault and the horse, and she has done her best to return their support by giving them the best flips that aerodynamics can provide.
(This one's gonna suck) ...
As the flaming inferno enveloped the tiny town house, a hundred eyes looked on in horror, sick fascination, and wonder. The thing that lit their lamps, cooked their food, and powered their cannons was now an unstoppable force of destruction, consuming that which they had used it to build.
We'll wow em, we'll knock 'em dead, we'll show em what we've got! Our first performance will raise the roof, knock their socks off, tear the house down! Yes, we'll certainly make a splash, an entrance, be the piece de resistance! All we have to do is sing!
load more entries
writing since 2012 · 19 entries · 16 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means deideiblueeyez showed up.
2longest streak
16days written
1.4entries / week
the words deideiblueeyez reaches for
nowfaceeyeseffortstreetactivityhandpaperrunsurelymainsidewalkeverydayhomependulumserious