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The Briar Pipe
Mysteries in small and convenient packages litter remote cabins,
where phone lines come pre-packaged in guillotines,
where people walk onto the stage with pre-fabricated character sheets
while they prepare for their big audition,
where giants walk on tiny people and get disgruntled when the ants bicker,
where clues seem to be outlined in neon lights,
yet were not visible in the minds of the innocent, or even the guilty,
where everything is significant, even the trivial,
where cars that were doomed to fail,
with their suicidal tires and their weeping gas lines,
try to piece together how the others got the best of them yet again,
where two plus two takes a predefined time allotment to calculate,
where no man is an island while the others have oars and leaky boats,
where the doorknob is given an unexplained significance,
where death is accompanies not the inhabitants,
but the ignorant harbingers of justice,
these are the places where knowledge is built from the ground up,
and knocked the
The scientist invited his coworker into the room to watch.
“This is the new drug we’ve been developing. When injected directly into your brain, it stimulates your speech center while you’re asleep, and you narrate all your thoughts. It’s taken a while, but we’re finally able to try it on human subjects.”
The scientist spoke into the microphone. “I’m going to turn down the lights and play soft music. I want you to try to sleep.”
The music started, and the man closed his eyes. The music faded in, it was very generic, but tolerable. The two scientists sat and waited for three hours.
“Ok, he’s in REM. I’m going to start pumping in the drug.”
The tube going up through the back of his neck went from clear to a dull orange. The EEG lit up.
“Any minute now… he’ll start talking.”
So the man spoke.
“Aaaaah… I… Miss… Pardon me… Ast… trucks… are big
The man was deciding whether or not
to donate money to the charity this year,
so an angel appeared on his right shoulder.
“If you were struggling, wouldn’t you hope
someone would do the same for you?”
The man fished a dollar out of his pocket,
until a devil appeared on his left shoulder.
“If you save that dollar, you could buy
a hamburger, and eat that while you
look at pornography!”
Another angel appeared on the man’s shoulder.
“That’s not okay at all, think of the children.”
The man remembered his old gym teacher,
who was arrested after doing both of those
things at the same time. Another devil.
“Save your money, they’d probably spend it
on drugs or something…”
A third angel, “They would not spend it on drugs.
There are lots of perfectly honest poor people.”
The man sat down, as the devils and angels
were starting to weigh his shoulders down.
Third devil, “If you save that dollar,
and a f
I walk across the sand.
There is no sand.
I feel it beneath my feet,
and wonder if this is what I’ve been missing.
There is no sand.
The grains creep between my toes,
the texture being imprinted in my feet,
in my mind.
There is no sand.
The wind rushes past my face,
and the smell of the ocean
brushes past my nose,
just enough to smell the salt.
There is no wind.
I see a lighthouse in the distance.
The walk, which doesn’t exist,
is a long distance,
but it passes by in an instant.
The surface of the tower
is rough and dirty
from years of use.
The lighthouse doesn’t exist.
I see myself standing next to the lighthouse,
and I exist,
but I am not here.
I wonder where this place is.
The Hotel Was Filled With Paintings
The desk clerk didn’t turn his head when I saw him. He did look at me though.
“Can I help you sir?”
“Do you have any rooms?”
“All our rooms are available.” His voice dropped on the floor as he talked.
I took a moment to look around the room. Each wall seemed to be lighted in the same way. Each object’s placement seemed intentional. It would be impossible to avoid feeling out of place.
“I’d like a room on the first floor, please.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but all our rooms are on the top floor.” The clerk’s head had not moved once yet. His head faced in a different direction, but his eyes stared at me. I didn’t want a room on the top floor, but this was the only hotel in town, so I had little choice.
“I’ll take any room you have.”
I turned around again to look at the walls. Nothing had changed, which seemed wrong to me, but I don’t know why I expected things to have moved arou
Men Of Rage
Men of rage scream in colors.
100,0,0 Trapped in mystery boxes with no exits,
217,199,79 We sing songs of loose teeth and exposed nerves.
173,217,79 We gape at the promise of tomorrow,
72,163,48 whatever that is.
231,196,120 We swim in pools of melted bones
230,118,57 and swallow the marrow that gives us life.
243,197,55 There is still life in these nerves.
113,91,23 It’s about time someone fixes that.
Men of rage scream in colors.
78,41,8 We stare at those who abuse themselves
53,23,14 as they abuse us,
47,8,8 and pretend that they’re victims.
48,20,120 Their cries burrow into our brains,
144,10,51 and nest there, like tumors.
217,31,32 One of these days, when they grow too big,
147,52,52 We will rip the tumors out of our heads,
96,49,49 and there will be nothing to fill the gap.
55,39,39 This is the song of the broken man,
21,21,21 the true man of rage.
Clay man goes to town.
He steps into the air
and walks next to the buildings.
He moves up and down the sides effortlessly,
but chooses to stay at one level anyway.
Clay man has a family
but he’s never met them.
He sees people at his sides.
These strangers are his family,
the family that never bothers him.
Clay man eats meals,
small bits at a time,
very small bits,
because he doesn’t know how to chew his food.
These bits collect in his throat
and pile up, like sand,
until his throat collapses around them,
and his food merges with his body.
Clay man watches TV on occasion,
he likes to watch the commercials.
He enjoys the notion that
there’s still one facet of entertainment
that doesn’t lie about the
nature of its existence.
Clay man drives to work every day.
Work is driving,
so he drives to a drive.
He has yet to start working,
because there is no starting point,
because there is no finishing point.
Clay man’s world is a bucket of fish,
upon which he only ev
The animated lion and the animated bear
were on the big screen for the first time.
The unlikely team had interesting dynamics
which got all the kids to watch this movie.
They ran around, having many adventures,
trying to stop the evil monster from turning
the earth into a giant ball of goo,
which would be bad, presumably.
Finally, the two animals met the monster.
Using the power of friendship,
the lion and bear made a giant beam of energy
and stopped the monster’s plan.
Then they ran over to the monster
and started tearing it apart.
They ate every last piece of the monster
Fighting over the last of his bloody remains.
Nature is adorable.
The Barking Dog
Scientists gathered in the room
to answer the question
“What is the meaning of life?”
The first man stood up
and started yapping like a dog.
The next man immediately started
flapping his arms like a chicken.
The third scientist started
muttering about setting things on fire.
Another man took his pencil
and started drawing pictures of missiles,
landing on tiny villages made of straw.
One person took a hand drill out of his pocket
and yelled that he would finally drill through
one of the icecaps to see what was there.
Several scientists had to restrain the third guy
from lighting the table on fire,
including the chicken.
All at once, the entire room erupted,
engaging in whatever instinct came to mind,
until the dog man started barking.
For about 10 seconds,
he yelled above all other noises,
his breath blew out the lighter
in the third guy’s hand.
Finally, when the room calmed down,
he went back to yapping.
The rest of the scientists sat patiently,
listening to the melod
Titanic's Forgotten Sister-Chapter 26Chapter 26~
A CHILD'S CURIOSITY
**Being a youth, she eagerly questioned anything and everything she could comprehend, from why I 'looked funny' to 'why is the sea so BIG?'. I answered her in the best ways I knew how, which usually satisfied her. She faced Tempestuous with mile-long questions as well. Always patient, he would always procure some sort of answer too. To tell you of his patience is a subject within itself. As she got a little older, Britannic became very playful, and would eye up her father from afar, and then charge forward, as she was currently doing. Speeding up to him, she knocked her small bow against his side, and by chance, a shower of rust flakes broke off and landed on her and in the water. Her face changed from silly to serious in the quick way only a youth could show, and she stammered in a hushed tone "D, D, Did I hurt you, Daddy?!"
**Tempestuous replied "You think a little scratch like that would harm me? I have been through things that have hurt me far worse.
Titanic's Forgotten Sister-Chapter 25Chapter 25~
**As time wore on, it soon became apparent to all of the other ships that I was expecting. Some offered a slight word of congratulations. Others said nothing at all. Either way, it did not matter to me. I was more distraught with fears of how I would ever manage as a mother, of all things! That fear alone kept me sleepless many a night. How would I ever do a good job? Would I be able to be all I hoped to be? What was I supposed to do of 'fill-in-the-blank' occurred?!? All I could do was hope I wouldn't turn out to be failure!
**In every little moment possible, Tempestuous would not leave my side. He had a fiercely protective instinct, and would hardly let any other ship near me. Usually, showing his sharp teeth, paired with brown eyes blazing, sent most away in a trice, but if there was a stubborn case, he was not afraid to fight. He was a true soldier, and his bravery was a true show of love. I, in turn, found that just one more reason to love him back.
Sir Bobby - The WarHave you ever seen another lying in a pool of blood? All a man's sacrifices and tears drowning in crimson finality? His memories, his dreams, every sin and every good deed all leading to a destiny of tragedy. If he could see himself, lying on what was once just a random road to be crossed, but ultimately proved to be the path to his final chapter. By divine decree, his full-stop was written and alone on these cobble stones, his book is closed. Surely he would weep for such a pointless loss. What soul would find the strength to not cry to any who could hear? If it were me, I would tear the hair from my head and with all the fury in my heart I would look to the Heavens and scream I AM ALIVE!
But then, I guess, the gods wouldn't hear me, the screaming of a man, the whisper of an ant; dead men tell no tales. Dead men. Dead men. That's all we are when the time expires and there is nothing we can do about it. Oh I could arrest a thief and I could hang the murderer by dawn, but when the Reape
Minecraftic Adventures IMinecraftic Adventures I
One day as Steve was walking amongst the abandoned mossy buildings of Herobrinia in AD 4612, he saw a sign that said, “Stadium 1”. He thought,” Must’ve been a pretty noisy when people were still here!”
Just then, he heard his stomach growling. He murmured to himself,”Must be hungry.” He swiftly ran to the nearest department store to see if there was any food to fill his groaning tummy.
Steve didn’t feel safe. Neither did anyone after The Abandonment of Planet Ignematrica, a planet in another dimension with the same co-ordinates as ours (Igneous, mat, Rica, the first supposedly person). A terrible disaster when a pathologist called Miles Manhattan accidentally spilled tobacco sauce, cheese cream and cyanide on a dead body and created the first zombie(without using voodoo). Miles got a Nobel prize for that. The zombie was not aggressive. In fact it was caring and its smile was almos
How'd ya doin?
I am open to other people speaking in their own languages and I use British Anglisc('English' in Early Saxon English)and that I have to say in case YOU AMERICANS(majority, can't understand why) start to yell at me, " UR TYPING IT WRONG!!!!!!!!!".
I play FTB(Feed The Beast) A LOT so I tend to be influenced by it.
Anyway, Thnks for taking ur time to see my projects and stuff
Life HAS BEEN(WILL BE, IS STILL BEING AND WILL ALWAYS BE) hard for me. My friend got banned from deviantart and my other only friend's computer spoilt(she is from my country!).
So I hope that u peeps out there will support me in doing stuff, and I hope my bad luck influences u.
Eternity's End: Prologue I woke up with a feeling of numbness on my forehead. My muscles were sore in all places. It hurt to move. I didn't even attempt to open my eyes. I felt a surging migrane pulse through my temples, making it hurt even when my eyes were closed. All I could do was sit there for a while.
I finally decided to open my eyes which felt like they were going to emerge from my skull within a moment. This was by far torture. I lifted my limp arm then knocked whatever was on my forehead to my side. Using my elbows to prop myself up a bit, attempting to open my eyes better, to actually see where I was.
My vision was a blur, everything was an unfamiliar color; the atmosphere was frightening. I was worried. My spine popped when I sat up, most likely from being in the same position for so long. When my view cleared up a bit, I felt the cool air against my skin as I gained recollection. As soon as I could see my own feet in front of me, I took a good look around me; where I was, or at least w
LifestreamIt's a strange thing
To observe mortality
Staring into the mirror
Watching the glimmer fade
I used to see 3 or 4 white hairs
After 2 years that number doubled
Dark patches beneath my eyes
Are deeper and more frequent
My skin is still smooth
Despite a few age lines
Body strength is normal
Though sleep is sometimes cumbersome
I think to myself
How wonderful it is to exist
How horrifying the idea
To not exist
There are days
Where the sunlight
Of the final morning
Seems very far away
There are other days
Where it feels so close to me
My body is getting a little rough around the edges
But I still feel invincible
I'm not finished with that yet
I guess it's a good thing...
I am now 29 tears old
All I can do is wait
Warring Kingdoms: The Fantasy Aftermath C2Chapter 2: My Starting Career
Yukimura S.: *whistles* . . . . . OW! *Gets hit in the head by box*
Mailman: Sorry about that sir! You must be of the Sanadas, right?
Yukimura S.: *Groans* It's nothing...ugh... >AQ;;; AND YES I AM! THANKS!
Mailman: No problem! *Drives away*
Yukimura S.: Ow....huh? l _ l *Picks it up* "To Nobushige Sanada"....huh...that's my original name. Haven't heard that in a while.....I think I'll take this in first before opening it...
I'm Nobushige Sanada...AKA romanized nowadays as Yukimura Sanada. Historically, the latter name wasn't even used in my life.
I used to be a very loyal soldier to the Toyotomi in order to oppose the Tokugawa regime....only for my famous death at Oosaka Castle.
Of course, in this mass universe, many of us have gotten on better terms with Lord Ieyasu. I'm sure Lord Hideyoshi would be very happy for this since he was very close to Ieyasu himself.
Oh yeah....I needed to take this thing in...I opened it up...it was a journal...?
I scalded my mouth yesterday. I drank a cup of tea, and found it to be way too hot. I poked my tongue at the skin tag on the roof of my mouth.
I've been watching the man for the past few weeks. He does the same routine every day. He wakes up, and brushes his teeth. He combs his hair, he goes to his door to get the paper. He reads the paper at his table. He drinks a cup of English Breakfast. He eats an egg.
I watch this man because this is probably what I used to be like. He looks up, like he thinks somebody is watching him. I'm watching him. I see him every day. He makes his lunch. It's a ham sandwich with mustard. He puts his suit on. It's already been ironed.
Was I this organized? He takes his things and walks out the front door. I stare down into the parking lot, looking to see him drive off in his blue sedan. He leaves out the other exit, so I never see him. I wonder if I ever had a car. He's gone, and I stare at the empty screen for an hour, looking at his empty apartment.
I set m
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More