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It's Sad.....
2005-10-17 17:31:33
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Quick Comments For: Naruto - Flat Line
* 2005-10-07 22:57:55I'm going to fucking bury Armitag3|oGk, I have done it before, and I will do it again. I'm going to fucking kill Naruto - Flat Line.
Who and why?
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Another spelling nightmare. LOL!
2005-10-02 16:29:00
Something i wrote when i was a small neko. Hope you all can make sence of it.
Dark rain
As the flower patch comes to an end she can feel the cold air running from the sea. The hard ground comes to a sudden stop and she steps onto the soft golden sand. Dolphines play in the waves and darkness falls. The clouds melt together and form a dense gray mass to block the sun. She walks to the edge of the water where the waves run silently onto the sand and sits down on the soft cold sand.
"It's so silent here."
A drop hits a soft face and runs down her cheek like a lost tear. It slowly slides off her face and drops onto her breast.
"What is this place?" she thinks to herself.
It's feels so right to be here but i know i'm not ment to be here. The memories feel real and the pain is gone.
The pain?
Another drop runs down her arm. She looks up at the gray clouds. If it wasnt for a random drop every three secondes the sea would have been silent. As she lies back resting her head down on the sand a drop hits her hand. Not move'n the drop some how runs dry. She looks over the water waiting for the next drop. The sound of the drop changes as she spots it leave the water and return to the clouds. The drop on arm runs to her fingers tip and shoots back to the clouds.
Being entertained for a while it soon loses its captivating power. She rolls onto her side and looks down the long beach. "Alone." she thinks and her eyes grow black.
The CDplayer stops and darkness runs to hide under the front seats as another light comes closer. Looking at me from under the seat the it waits for the light to pass. The light flashes by and the darkness floods the car again. Pushing with my feet against the door i shove my head into the pillow, wish we can just get home and end the day.
Another film filled with memories hide under the seat with the darkness. i think to myself about how much i hate the thought of those memories being developed.
The darkness runs to new hide'n places. Everything stops and something just feels wrong. i lift my head and look into the blinding lights. My body lifts off the seat and helplessness runs over me. i hear the metal fold and bend around me. i see the lose feeling in my sisters eyes, as i smash trough the windscreen infront of her. As i hit the metal grill of the truck i hear my bones shatter. The car starts to flip and as i hit the ground i feel the glass rain down on me. My blood runs in between the road and glass forming a beautifull picture, of live, like the stainedglass windows in the church just down the road.
It feels like weeks later, hear a constant beep in the darkness. The beeps run three seconds appart and sounds like they are bounce'n off a wall.
Voices and cry'n echo in the distance. Feeling slowly starts to return.........pain jurks my body. It becomes so painfull that.........
As she opens her eyes, she feel the wind rush over her naked skin. She sits upright and looks across the flowers. She stands up and walks into wind. She walks towards sea side. As the flower patch comes to an end she can feel the cold air running from the sea. The hard ground comes to a sudden stop and she steps onto the soft golden sand. Dolphines play in the waves and darkness falls. The clouds melt together and form a dense gray mass to block the sun. She walks to the edge of the water where the waves run silently onto the sand and sits down on the soft cold sand.
Dark room
The walls seems never to stop as she looks up for a celling. A strange light, dim but enough to see the walls, hang in the room. Her arms are bound together. A dripping sound rings in the distance. The tight binding cloth pulls tighter and stops her breathing. Pain. This pain is not of now.
She looks to the side and listens to the dripping echo in the floor. She see's a piece of glass melt into the blood cover'd floor. Her eyes turn black and coldness run over her.
"It's... me?."
Empty and cold her body lie's motionless on the floor. The Blood and boby looks like a new born, alone, the glass looks like stars in a red sky.
She reachs for her cold helpless self but she is nothing. Alone in her cold room all she can do is stare at herself.
Live is it real.
Blue eyes stare up at the clear sky. The cold wind has gone and a soft myst rome the sand. She sits upright and wonders where the sea ends. She stops wondering and knows. She knows everything about this place but it feels with each passing day like she doesnt belong.
"But it has been sixteen days?" she mutters to herself as she stands up.
The flowers are gone. Nothing remains, not even the sweet smell that use to fill the air.
Conflict
Worc and Nevig
two dragons are at it again
like conflicting minds
lost soul, confusion
a deep scar
blood rains to her
the weaker fall
Nevig takes the final blow and Worc's lifeliss body hits the ground. The girl runs to the fallen beast. Her blue eyes turn gray. -
The Bed Time Story
2005-10-02 15:13:27
I felt like write'n something in my spare time. While i ponder about my FLCL AMV.
PLEASE NOTE:: This is not for sensitive readers!
Darkness comes
As her eyes, shoot open the room pulls in on her. The walls seem to move with the flickering of the swinging light. The leak in the roof shatters the dream as a drop falls on her bruised cheek. The pain slowly moves over her as her eyes search through the room for something to comfort her.
His words start to echo in her mind as the light moves gently over the bruises on her wrists.
“Don’t worry it will be quick.”
A drop flows down the cord and finds a small gap in the wires. The cold corner next to the bed grows dark as the light shorts and dies. In the darkness, her tears start to flow, as she painfully starts to search for her dress. Her hand slips on the pool of blood next to her. The rain stops as her fingertips touch the edge of her bloody dress. Her body cramps and refuses her to stand up. She drags the dress closer it hooks on the wooden floor and tears. The sound of the tearing dress pushes her against the cold floor.
The night before
“….that’s sweet. You don’t look that young to me.”
His soft calm voice makes her eyes glow. The lights glint in her eyes, his arms fold around her. Her heart starts to race.
“It’s true isn’t it?” she asks looking deep into his eyes.
“Yes I do love you.” He answers with a grin on his face.
Her trust grew and the love she gave to him could not be understood. Not even his love that he spoke of was a patch on the love she saw in his eyes.
Maybe he did love her but even so, that love was without respect. Her tired body fell down on the bed. The torn sleeve amused her. The rust of the fence it hooked on glittered on the black dress in the light. The same sound echoed through the room as she tore off the sleeve. The sounds in the street faded away outside as he ran his fingers up her leg. Her dress slipped up her legs, the cold air around her body slipped off her like silk as her body heat raced to match her heartbeat.
She did not mind him touching her. It is part of love and the warm feeling in her heart.
A tear ran down her cheek. If this is truly part of love then why does it hurt so much? Her wrists started to hurt as his hands gripped her tighter. She could feel her body get bruises with every move he made. The air filled with the smell of his so-called love. Her blood flowed onto the sheets. The bloodstain sank into the bed and smudged across the bed as he pulled her over it. He hugged her, the bruises felt like it melted across her body to form one big bruise. As he let her go, she pulled herself across the bed away from him. Her legs felt numb. As she looked at him that same loving grin was still on his face.
He got up and walked to the bathroom, a tap opened and she could hear the water flow down the drain. The water flowed smoothly over the white porcelain. Her blood rubbed off his hands and stuck to the smallest protrusion in the basin. The water pulling at the blood seems to peal it off the basin and pull it down the drain. She can still feel his hands on her. Smell him over and in her. Her body cramps as she tries to pull herself over the bed. Her dress slides off the edge of the bed as she kicks the blankets aside. The eyes in the paintings hanging on the walls seem to follow her every move. The smile on the copy of Leonardo’s 17th Century nude Mona Lisa faded, a tear and sad face formed. It seemed as if the flowers around her died and the paint turned to ash. Next to the door Velázquez’s painting of the Virgin Mary, her once clean dress was now stained with blood the twelve stars surrounding her head fell to the ground, the Virgin Mary’s eyes opened and looked straight at her. The white clouds in the background grew black and formed a storm.
The broken girls eyes searched the room, her small shoes was at the door to the living room next to his shoes. Above it fear and guilt was ravaging in Judas’s eyes glaring at Christ. The Last Supper, such a fitting painting for the moment, forgiveness and sadness glows in Christ’s eyes. The way Judas betrayed Christ’s love, the way he broke her. The rest of the saints turn their heads and look down on Judas. Hate fills their eyes, the difference between men and Christ becomes clear as Christ looks down on Judas with love in his eyes.
He enters the room, fear fills her.
“Sorry, here let me help you.” He walks closer and hands her small and soft panties to her. Her shivering hands reach out and pull it from his hand. She slips on the panty and curls up on the bed.
He lies down beside her. She pushes herself away from him and slides off the bed with the blanket. She crawls to the corner of the room and curls up against the wall. As he pulls the stained sheets over him, she stares at him until he falls asleep. Her tiered body stops shivering as the first raindrop hits the roof. She looks down at the blood running down her legs, her body jolts as she starts to cry from the shock.
13:4
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not
envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed
up;
does not behave rudely, does not seek its
own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in
the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all
things, endures all things.
Just a note
Nothing ever makes sense until you take a step back, take a long hard look and wait for it to hit you. The open Bible, on the table next to the window, the words of love did not match the love drifting in the room.
Its words we all want to hear. A soft loving touch we all want to feel, a kiss we want to taste. With those words in my mind ...“Sit with me”
“That star is yours…”
“I know it’s flickering.”
“Forget that and look closely, it’s the same as my heartbeat. It’s the words I want to say.”
It is the words we all want to hear.
“Here it’s a code.”
“I love you.”
Sweet isn’t it?
As she looks up at the star flickering in the heavens, he folds his arms around her. standing behind her, he looks down at her. She turns around in his arms and hugs him. It’s a pretty picture from a far. He leads her trough the park to the gate at the north end. As they pass trough the gate her dress hooks on the fence, as she tries to unhook it he pulls her through the gateway. The fence tears a small gap in the black dress. As they walk the rust in the tear, glints like the stars.
“Look” She whispers to him.
He looks down and notices the tear.
“How did that happen?”
His question shocked her. How could he not even notice his own doing?
How did that happen, she asked herself.
His words kept on jumping trough her mind. Her eyes grew black and she fell asleep curled up in the corner.
Her eyes shoot open it felt as if the room pulled in on her. The room seemed different. Through the tears in her eyes, a distorted picture started to form. The walls seem to move with the flickering of the swinging light. The once clean and neat room was in chaos. A leak in the roof shatters the dream as a drop fell on her bruised cheek. The pain slowly moves over her as her eyes search through the room for something to comfort her.
The cold corner next to the bed grows dark as the light shorts and dies. The dry blood pulls her skin with every move she makes. In the darkness, her tears start to flow, as she painfully starts to search for her dress. Her hand slips on the pool of blood next to her. The rain stops as her fingertips touch the edge of the dress. Her body cramps and refuses her to stand up. She drags the dress closer it hooks on the wooden floor and tears. The sound of the tearing dress pushes her against the cold floor. A sick smell hangs in the room. As she pulls herself up onto the bed, she hears the shower door close and the tap open. The dripping sound of the shower replaces that of the rain that fell outside.
The last painting
In the open drawer next to her, a voice calls her. The cold hard black steel reflects the light across her face. She reaches out and picks up the cold black pistol. She rests the top shaft of the gun between her small breasts. The cold steel matches her cold body. The cocked gun looks up at her. Her small hands grip the pistol with no fear, as she slides her finger over the trigger. The tap closes and silence fills the house. She slowly turns and faces the bathroom. As he opens the bathroom door the pistol kicks back into her small hands, the pistol drops to the ground as she lets go from the pain. The un-aimed bullet shoots across the room and trough his throat. Trough the smoke the pain in his face becomes clear, like Manet’s Execution of the Emperor Maximilian, which hangs on the wall next to him. His head pulls back and his hands cramps into fists from the pain. The blood rushes down his chest. His hands grabbed at his throat to cover the bullet wound. The painting depicts a rifleman reloading his rifle. Her small hands reach down at the pistol. As she picks it up his half-open, eyes shoot open. She points the pistol at him.
“Now you know how sorry feels.” The pistol kicks back into her hands, the nine millimeter bullet screeches trough the thick air in the room.
Aftermath
Nine years later the now twenty-year-old woman walks hand in hand with her newfound love. The scares of that day still hide in the shadows at night. She still feels the wooden floor shake under her small feet that day, as his lifeless body hit the floor.
Love is an easy word to use If you do not know what you are getting yourself into. The moment of then, it is the pain of losing what you hold dear. It is the begging of the end, the irritation that we pretend not to show replaces the motivation.
The motivation, which put those two bullet shells on the floor. -
The Smoke.
2005-07-18 18:14:27
Dear journal
I'm stuck at a split road. Life has come up with a challenge. Do i sit and watch every frame render for three hours in After Effects ....or do i go for a smoke break?
^_^ -
Tune Mizu
2005-07-18 17:55:19
Dear Journal
Right now i'm not the most depressed person on earth. Tune Mizu is. Wish i could help him. But i have problems of my own. the wind outside is ripping off my roof and DivX is compressing like a monkey on a stick.
I wonder if anyone will download my new AMV if it's 1.9 Gigs?
JOURNAL: Armitag3 | oGk (Thinus Smuts)
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