[x]

The ListShe has a list.

She has a long, long list, spanning many pages in her notebook. There are pages upon pages, coated in a messy scrawl of blue gel ink that varies in freshness from hours to years.

Every night, she adds to it. Every night, religiously, ever since she can remember. She has to stay up as long as it takes to add whatever she can recall to her list, no matter how tired or how busy she is. If one were to happen past her house on any particular night, odds are the light would be shining brightly as she frantically scribbled in her notebook.

Her list is precious to her. She isn't proud of it, but she needs it with her always.

The l

Almost Human - Chapter 2: Not as it SeemsCome on Batsy baby! Let us add another wonderful dance to our grand play!" the Joker laughed manically, arms thrown in the air as if reaching to his Batman for an embrace.

Batman charged for him, that crazed laughter rang agonizingly in his mind. He had to silence that unbearable laughter! He pulled back and punched the Joker in the face with all his might. Almost immediately Joker was bleeding profusely from his nose, he stumbled backwards but he kept smiling. He didn't stop; he connected numerous punches and kicks until the clown crashed onto the ground. With weak giggles he managed to lift himself up and dusted himself off.

"Oh darling,

Distant TravelAbsent.
Far away.
Travelling soul.
Home.

Reminder"Why--why do you hate me?" he snapped brokenly. "I've never--never done anything to you. But you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Really? Because I see the way you act around me--quiet and distant. You don't laugh when I'm in the room. But you're different with everyone else. When you can't see me, you're loud, happy... What did I do?" He seems defeated, slumping back.
She feels horrid.
"It's not really your fault," she says slowly, looking away. "I'm sorry. I like you. I really do."
"Then why?
She sighs.
"You remind me of someone. I loved them, but they're gone now. Sometimes, I look at you and I see their face. You'll say something and I hear their voice. I feel... guilty, I guess, for liking you. Things didn't end well between us."
He pauses. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No, it's fine. I needed to get over it anyway."
He nods, getting up to leave.
"Just so you know," he says, "I really like you, too."

EmbraceSky Bridge -
Horizon's end
meets earth.

Forgotten"How was I supposed to know?" he says softly to her back as she starts to leave. "How was I supposed to know you weren't happy? That things weren't working out? You never told me."
"You were supposed to listen," she snaps, turning around. "You were supposed to ask. That's what couples are supposed to do--communicate."
"I spoke to you every day," he murmurs. "I'd ask you what your friends said, what you did, how work was..."
"You never asked how I was!"
"Would you have told me if I had? Because I don't think you would've. I think you would've just let the whole thing sit there and then you would've left anyway, with some other excuse."
She shakes her head harshly, turning around again.
"You promised that you'd never leave!" he shouts at her back.
"Yeah? Well, you swore you'd never break my heart."

RestorationAs children, we painted with a prism of passions. The color held its splendor as we shaped a heart masterpiece. We called the image "Identity". But with age, the scarlet tones faded; the crimson heart filled with cracks and tears. Now only a portion of the title remains. The faded letters now read "Entity." The child's colors lie buried in a closet of memory. The canvas, within a breathing vault. We need only to dig; to unlock. As adults, we need only to paint once more.

Philosophy-*Raphael's POV* I live with in a place where monsters seem to pop up everywhere and just attack. It is mainly of no reason WHY they exist and they attack. They just appear.

When I was a little kid, I fought them. I had powers, like my siblings did. My brother was a reaper of human darkness that made him stronger each time. My sister, she had powers of thr worldly elements. And me, well, life, death rebirth, and the flow of time that connects each one (time was of a lesser power) and a bum leg (which I tell about because it is another part of me). However, I digress. As I was saying, for a time I fought off these monsters, because I thought I had t

6. RemnantSat in a chair,
Again.

Window in front,
Warped with images,
Of busy days on a street.

A girl,
With a green dress.

A little boy with an umbrella,
Running through the pouring rain.

Another girl,
Day dreaming,
On a bus.

And the day passed.

_____

Sat in a chair,
Again.

Window in front,
Warped with images,
Of a busy day on a street.

A woman,
With a green dress.

A boy with an umbrella,
Running through the pouring rain.

Another woman,
Day dreaming,
On a bus.

The day passed.

_____

Sat in a chair,
Again.

Window in front,
Warped with images,
Of a busy day on a street.

A woman,
With a green dress.

A boy with an umbrella,
Running through

DecadenciaAquella carga resultaba cada vez más pesada y asfixiante. Aún era tan joven… y ya sintiéndose como un anciano observaba impotente la corriente de cambios devastadores que no paraban de erosionar su entorno, mientras iba encajando casi por inercia el paso inexorable del tiempo.

Se sentía tan vacío. A veces, era como si notara un agujero enorme en la zona más profunda de su interior; todo se lo tragaba. Y entonces se veía arrastrado de manera inevitable hacia un torbellino de confusión, cuyo desenlace no era otro que el fracaso, la humillación, el sufrimiento… la soledad.

¿Cuánto tiempo llevaba experimentando algo así? Intentaba

The DoorRandy

I opened the door and stepped through it. The old man who’d appeared to me had told me this is where I would find my answer. My greatest weakness. And the power to overcome it. He told me I would find the answers to these questions.
I found myself standing at the beginning of a long corridor lined with doors. Each door was identical; the same shape, size, and color. But there were labels on each door, all of them different. The old man had told me that these doors would be here, but they would not open. He said they were shortcuts to the end and that they were forbidden paths, and if they were to open somehow, they would lead to

...All religions preaching love
Without any comprehension
What in fact it really means
Limited by this dimension
Misinterpreting the words
Of the few who bridged the border
And in vain tried to explain
Meaning underlying order

deeper bruisesback when i was all chubby cheeks and wide eyes i would sit on my grandma’s lap (her knees were sharp and bony, but i didn’t mind much) and listen to her tell tales about her abusive first husband. and how when she was my age, she returned home from school to see her baby brother cold and lifeless on the kitchen tile. she called me brave when i didn’t cry at her stories, and i can’t help but wonder if she would still call me that. when i told my mother her face paled and eyes widened with rage, because little girls were supposed to dream of princesses, not marks left behind from belt buckles.

i was grossly interested

5.21one day i met this boy with dark hair and eyes that seemed too intense to be real, and i swear his soul shined brighter than the stars. we would sit on his balcony and stare up at the sky, pretending we knew where life was heading for us; pretend that we were invincible. he told me about how art is something that taps into your brain and takes over, that art is the only thing capable of saving you. (i never asked what it saved you from, but i think i know now.) i told him that when i was little i was scared of jumping off the swings because i didn’t want to get hurt. he said it was ironic. i pretended that i didn’t understand that

Factory LifeFactory Life

Well, yes actually, I do know what swimming feels like.

It was back ten or twelve quarters ago, the time I actually got to go swimming. The band got together (me, Scally, and Johnson . . . Barret was there too) and we headed out, back towards that dead area in sector Mu . . . the one between us and the RPC management department. You know the one. Yeah, that one. It was a lot bigger back then.

Johnson had heard a story about a conduit of water the size of a tramline. Heard it from some maintenance dude, I guess. We decided to check it out.

We were gone for almost six shifts, searching up catwalks and through maintenance duct

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Futility and Helplessness

by ~whatonearth, Aug 19, 2012, 4:00:13 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

You don't know; you don't know anything,
And you can't trust your eyes,
Or your heart,
Or your lungs.

Just wait,
Time will go its way;
Your path will pave itself,
And when the time comes, you'll pass.

Sweet dreams.

Futility and Helplessnessby ~whatonearth

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Just something I've been thinking about. I've been watching Heros and I can't help but think that their world is too confusing and doomed. Their future is destined to be terrible yet they continue to fight against it in hopes of something better happening.

Most of them just had random things that made no sense sprung on them, the story manages to stay fairly light hearted but if you really thought about it you would be frustrated and depressed as well. They don't know what is real, what to expect, how well their body will hold up, or if it's actually possible to save the future or only delay the inevitable. It's kinda admirable how hard they fight but it's incredibly annoying how impulsive and irrational they are. I suppose you'd need to be that type of person to survive the circumstances however.

=slowslicksnails Feb 17, 2013 Student Writer

This piece is really powerful. I could imagine a scene so well, so great job! Definitely fave worthy.

~whatonearth Feb 17, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you. c:

=slowslicksnails Feb 17, 2013 Student Writer

You're welcome!

~tisserande-d-encre Aug 20, 2012 Student Writer

This is very nice. ^^ I like the picture you describe, that helplessness you talk about.
I can't imagine life without trusting my own lungs

I like how you connected this with the dreams, or maybe it's just my own perception

~whatonearth Aug 20, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks.

Well it's a figure of speech.

I meant "Sleep well" but that doesn't sound as good. XD I guess that's the thing about writing, it's open to interpretation. c:

~tisserande-d-encre Aug 20, 2012 Student Writer

Oh I get it

Yes it is!
Either way, I liked it! ^^

~whatonearth Aug 20, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks.

~TheMoorMaiden Aug 20, 2012 Student Writer

I'm not entirely sure what it is I like about this piece, I just like it. It feels very uplifting, and reading it gave me a sort of 'aw, that's nice' kind of feeling.

Just one thing, I think it should be 'its' rather than 'it's', but other than that I can't see any problems with it.

~whatonearth Aug 20, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks.

This is something that I just randomly came up with but somehow I like it too. Hmm, I see what you mean. Pass can be interpreted two ways.

Thanks, I'll change it. c:

~TheMoorMaiden Aug 20, 2012 Student Writer

You're welcome.

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