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Warcraft - Ghosts of Draenor PrologueJaceyn Ramis was nervous. Actually, nervous was a desirable alternative to whatever he was right now. He was sweating buckets, despite his lips being so dry that he kept running his tongue over them like some kind of pervert. He fumbled around with the folder in his hands to check his watch, which he had done every twenty seconds to make sure he was on time.
He had been sitting there for an hour waiting for a meeting that technically started thirty minutes ago. He was blatantly uncomfortable now, and became more so every time the pretty blood elf receptionist asked him if there was anything she could get him. He noticed the soft giggling behind her desk and exchanged awkward glances with her and a coworker every time he circled his tongue to moisten his kisser.
The handsome young scientist tried to ignore the hecklers and looked over his notes to make sure they were in perfect order. Everything had to be just right to impress the big wig he was there to see. The odds of getting a one o
Ultimate Sailor Moon : Chapter 15The bar was smokey by this time of night.
It was a local hotspot, the kind of place girls go to dance where no one will recognize them. It was a place they say you go to relax at, but no one in the establishment looked very relaxed. Guys were hovering around the provocatively dressed women who tossed down drink after drink with their flirty smiles.
The atmosphere was chaotic in that sensual kind of way. Voluptuous figures moved back and forth as the lights flickered to their body strokes. Eyes devoured the scene, hungry for more as their hearts lay beating uncontrollably in their chests. Their minds were filled with devious thoughts, their souls buried deep under their own desires.
No one questioned the why's and how's of the nights adventure. They found themselves here as they did every weekend. Same place, same faces, same intoxicated thoughts for another dreamless night. They were all under it's deprived spell. It was a hypnotic rhythm of drowned out music, uninhibited talking, obno
'Warcraft - Echoes' PreviewDaniel slumped down in the cushioned captains chair and ignored the beeps and alarms that echoed all around him. His haunting blue eyes stung from the blood that seeped into them from the wound on the top of his head. He ignored the pain as he obsessively traced over every inch of the consoles and monitors in the cockpit with them.
There was a loud banging at the exit door, but he paid it no attention. He felt a strange peace as he now stared out into the endless sea of space. He thought about the freedom he had found amongst the stars , and couldn't help but grin even under the circumstances.
While Daniel daydreamed of the adventure that lead him to this point, the star ship hurdled toward its destination. In the far distance was a speck that was hard to distinguish from the other specks that littered the black sea.
"Time til arrival on Azeroth is ten minutes."
The sweet sound of his wife's voice drew Daniel out of his daze. He pushed the cracked glasses up on his nose and brushed the
The Coming Darkness"An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity." - Martin Luther King Jr.
I'm writing this journal in the hopes that someday, somewhere, someone will read about the final days of humanity, and how in its end it finally became everything it always had the chance to be.
Existence is, was, and always will be a funny thing. Where did we come from? Why were we put here? What is the point of it all?
I had never really considered the questions that have always baffled my kind. I didn't feel the need to. School and church had always told me two different stories, but they were good enough for me to never really look much into the details. There was always the big bang theory, creationism, cavemen and Gods, and other explanations to the why's and how's of how I came to be. It gave me an excuse to worry about the little things in life, like popularity, girls, video games, and
Movie Review - Chernobyl DiariesThe story of Chernobyl has always fascinated me. I remember hearing about the tragedy a long time ago, and in recent years I've looked through hundreds of pictures from that nuclear wasteland. I've always wondered why Hollywood had never touched the place. It has a dark history, and the visual of an abandoned city overgrown by nature is haunting already.
Finally, someone has made a film about one of my favorite subjects. It wasn't the movie I wanted to be, but it was better than what I feared.
We start off with your typical party scene and establish our very limited amount of characters early. There are the estranged brothers Chris and Paul, played by Jesse McCartney (!) and Jonathan Sadowski, the hot blonde girlfriend of Jesse's character, and the single girl/best friend who serves as a sort of love interest for our other brother. They're a likeable bunch, unlike so many horror movies now where the characters are either so moronic or so obnoxious you want to see them slaughtered.
Ramblings of a MadmanLife is what you make of it.
But I don't know what to make of life. I've yet to understand the complexities that make up what we call a "life."
Am I doing it right? Are any of us?
What is your "life" and what does it mean to you?
For some it is a means to an end. It's a momentary inconvenience for a stage production much grander than the high school play we've all been burdened with. For these people life is the true limbo. It is a necessary evil before the big payoff.
I wish I could buy into that. With all of the suffering we have to endure on a daily basis it would be nice to think that there is something better at the end.
Is this the space between Heaven and Hell? Do God and the Devil act like captains on a sandlot baseball team and pick out their teams here?
Where is the proof? Is there proof all around us?
Have you ever thought that the day to day decisions you make are apart of a bigger plan? That there is no such thing as free will?
Impossible. If I take this kitchen blade righ
A Poet's EchoCan poetry be felt in the blood, in the veins
with each lyric being harmonized through dreams slain
Each epic speaking of places both far and nigh
With each melancholic elegy seeping pain?
Can verse performed by thunderstorms in the sky
Be what compels us to express our hearts, to cry?
How many poems have been written using tears
As ink, written until our souls have been bled dry?
Have decades of weeping filled the seas with our fears
And our nightmares penetrated mountains likes spears?
Can a poet's echo resound beyond the chain
Of mortality and fate's tyrannical leer?
The mosaic of life.The streams of color,
flowing and endless.
The mosaic of life never ends,
all it does is start a new panel.
One to be filled in by you.
Poem for Lou ReedTruly singular, an outsider’s outsider,
He learned well life’s hard truths, and was walking proof that
Your thoughts are only as deep as your faults.
Subjected to psychic savagery in his youth,
His mind took on an ever-changing persona
Always shifting between fame and failure.
A misfit, a hustler, a rake, a transformer,
A rogue, but not a charlatan, an objector,
But not a coward, never a coward.
An expert spinner of verse, he possessed a knack
For feel, impact, attitude, style; he always knew
Which words were those worth the listener’s while.
His means and his methods were fittingly erratic:
He would spend his days crafting curiosities
Only to then neglect and forget them.
What was important, though, wasn’t his works or quirks,
Nor his talent for causing a storm at a stroke,
But what he and his friends set in motion.
They would, unwittingly, forever change the way
We’d hear the sounds the mind thought it already kn
I Am: 2I am only the friend you talk with in class, the neighbor you only wave hi to, and the student you pay no attention. I wait and
I wonder when someone will come and question me, question the things I do and why I do them for
I hear this floating voice that belongs to no one and
I see a shape that resembles a person and
I want no more than to mold and sharpen that image into someone... but
I fear that will never happen for
I am only the friend you talk with in class, the neighbor you only wave hi to, and the student you pay no attention.
I pretend to actually talk with my friends, face to face instead over wavelengths of the internet; hear their voice and see their smiles and stupid hand gestures! I felt...
I feel like they're really there. That people I've never met are with me in my room, sitting next to me- and I really want that. I know
I touch them; emotionally, that is.
I worry about that, actually. I'm happy to know that I've had an impact on people I will never know. And more tha
The Beginningons ago, before time and space,
Was born a set of twins who took its place.
One had eyes of daybreak and hair of sun,
The other, hair of night and eyes of blood.
Born to Laelia, Singer of Light and Love,
Husband to Laelius, God who rules with a fitted glove.
‘Twas a difficult birth, screams echoed through the empty world,
But Laelia was never alone or so the story told.
Lucifer was first, life entered with hollow cries,
Laurentius was next, his smiles greeted by butterflies.
Both welcomed with joyous celebration.
Excited Laelius, humans, his creation.
The Twins then never left each others sides.
Except when heavy choices caused morals to collide.
I miss youIf there could be any way
That I could just reach your hand
And hold it tight in mine
Is it so far away
I just seem to be unable
To catch it
I love you
The moon's full now
And keeps me awake
All along the dark night
The stars get weaker every time
I look above at them
And you aren't there
I love you
It's been too long
Your eyes are fading from my mind
I can't remember them in detail
Your face's lines
Are blurry when I try to see it in my head
I love you
I miss you too much even
My tears are all used up
My eyes are dry as the cold wind
Blowing around me
I'm frozen to the bones
I miss you
Why I Hold On TighterThe gunshot echoes penetrating the air,
Increasing tensions in military warfare.
Knives that puncture and slice apart,
Fists of rage that damage skin and heart.
Explosions and smoke so sudden and fast,
No time to recover from the devastating blast.
A moment frozen in time after the disease diagnosed,
Tears falling on a body lifeless and comatose.
Car horns and screeching wheels on the pavement so loud,
Two victims of a crash of the rain from a cloud.
Though all of these things do not fill me with fright,
It is to you, my dear, they make me hold tight.
Vulnerable YouthPaper hearts from bright pink tissue meant for presents,
fanciful butterflies from orange dashed cardboard,
five petaled flowers danced around the sentence
of simplicity, ultimately to discard.
Tender thoughts from censored, guarded minds,
boldly do the simple stubby fingers strive to hide
the gift from Mommy, so that she can't find
the secret depth of the darkest snide.
The gentle pressure of acknowledging gestures
even the meaningless thank you cards
meant to send you on emotional adventures,
only to be shredded on cynical hearts' shards.
But it is the thought that counts,
those sweet little eyes haven't yet been renounced.
NietykalneWięzione w drewnianej szkatule,
Na swoją kolej czekają.
Chłód otula je czule,
Samotnie w ciemnościach mieszkają.
Ubywa ich z każdą nocą,
I z każdym wschodem słońca.
Choć zadziwiają swą mocą,
To złudny jest w grze tej brak końca.
Aż dnia pewnego odpłyną,
Nie będzie do czego wracać,
Gdyż sny są ulotną chwilą;
Nie można ich w palcać obracać.
The Fading Star of IdealismWhen I was a child all I wanted to be was a star.
I was boisterous by nature and a standout by far.
In my later years I realized that stars are exceptional only in name,
Unique in a way but surrounded by a sea of billions of the same.
We fool ourselves into thinking that we're more important than we really are.
When in reality we carry with us the mediocrity of a single star.
I no longer envy the twinkling lights that hang overhead.
I think from now on I'd rather be a planet instead.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More