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Moe YameteI talked of impressionists upon and before but only ever in sexualist and dotis terms. Here we see a man who shifts the cels and what came after them as a stand in for what he either lost or can never have. The daughters drawn, of the dungeon kept father never to become one. All the benefits on the book and screen, but it still never offers the other side of things, the rearing to raise, just touches on the simple side..encourage, tending to but not being enough as a fantasy.
The reminder also that there is no one to share it with, even in the fallacy is further more disheartening, but you still keep harkening. Madame Moe in her otaku friendly, sweet little outwear and small, he ponders over his dead daughter, never born and they all remind him of her, it’s a way of healing for him, a way to take away from the pain while causing himself more..might I
A wizard did itDumping bottles in gaps they go aplenty, maybe far too many at the back of the store bank, and that’s before the trash gets taken and talking. I cut the log and melt the steel, lifting boxes in large quantities. A strain upon the back, dull, repetitive backroom work . But this is the stain I make, my taking grace , not beef with the mundane, theres something majestic in the familiarity, repetition. Even if theory was entertained..it remained that when the white knight was reborn of ego prince and purple sleep, the latter within the body was deceased..but still was said possibly to have been seen again….but why was this?
A nightcap and same hours gown, blue with patterns of the sun, moon and stars on each garb strokes an overly long greying beard and claims that he is indeed a wizard and he very much did it well that he would that is and he was letting only me know. It was about an unleashed seal when th
Review: Blue is the warmest colour-filmBlue is the warmest colour
Blue is the warmest colour is a three hour romantic drama film directed by Abdellatif Kechiche, it stars Adèle Exarchopoulos and Lea Seyoux. It tells the story of a young girl who falls in love and starts a relationship with a woman in her twenties and chronicles their relationship.
I do have some very very slight complaints about this movie to clear up before I go on with this review. In the book there is a side character , the love interests girlfriend whom she is seen within the source material who plays an important, albeit minor role in the graphic novel who does not get attention in the film adaptation. The other being that at three hours at one or two points the movie feels its length.
However that runtime allows for the relationship to work far far more organically, naturally than the comic book , we spend more time with the characters also and become more immersed and established in their world.
The difference in mediums also permi
Homefront is an action drama film directed by Gary Felder, starring Jason Statham. It is one hour thirty minutes long and follows a drug enforcer moving to a new town with his daughter and becoming involved with taking out the local druglord.
When you get down to it, James Franco and Statham do a plausible job in this film in simplistic roles. This is another one of Statham’s attempts to inject something beyond fighting people into his roles/characters, it effectively humanizes somewhat the lead in this film but I feel this was, along with the drama elements meshed much better and worked a lot better in Hummingbird. This was a disposable, quick time waster and probably one of the weaker 80s throwback to come out lately. With that said what you get is a reasonable 90 minutes of fun that you could do a lot worse with. The direction, dialogue is choppy and theres no plot but the action gets things right enough to about make it into acceptable territory and the scene
TrollsStride by the, until the town lake , drowns, dampens, downs you in terms of confidence you always hold so tight until you pass it. They pridefully , peak from secret section beneath the bridge overhead the water with provoking you into verbs without action to accompany or back them up…and even if you did you’d never find them, those dwellers in the miniature park that ruin lives systematically as a series of just why nots and because. Murmurs amongst the squelching of feet through the mud saying all sorts of deprecating things about you.
Sound of voices and marching boots ever closer, but sound lowering, backing when you look or go doing so. Getting proactive at the provocation, it’s not that their response is a cowardly , the running away is a weapon. In any case it’s you who’s running, right into the orcs trap, oceanic, water dwe
The individualA completely independent soul, with no direct influence from anyone or anything else, left to experience everything on its own, the self-made person. Left to build by own choices, journeying, no-one’s protégé, pet, apprentice, child or anything like that. Only hand holding is by one’s own. The nobody knows entity that stands the most free, out on its own. Another’s architecture would ruin it all, must be lonely to be brought up that way.
And of course even if it is for scientific and observation purposes sadly, so very sadly it is not permitted for the unpredictable of the radar to be about, out on town…
Would survival skills kick in even if not learnt, teaching the self because they would be needed? Testing man’s developmental and adaptability under either fact or allusion by his isolating off somewhere. Imagine if everybody was to end up like this, in a world w
So I heard you wanted to make them like you?So I heard you had someone in mind
Perhaps something more intimate and
So I heard you wanted him to like you,
And I heard you didn't know what to do.
And so I heard you wanted a friend.
Or maybe just one..
And I heard from you, that you want me to like you too
but how, you ask?
you don't need to try.
I mean I heard you wanted to make them like
Wondering how getting the attention of that special someone works?
or perhaps just the friend, you know.
I'm no somebody and preferably just a nobody but
I heard you wanted someone to like you.
So be You.
BeautyI'd rather wear flowers in my hair,
forming a delicate chain
Than diamonds around my neck,
covering my tender blue veins
For with every precious petal
and every lucent leaf
I'm a living lesson
teaching beauty can not be bought
But rather it grows and flourishes
with every living thought
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
Fearing MeI'm not afraid to cry
and I do it
a lot more than you would guess.
It isn't always sadness,
I just feel like I need to,
feel everything so strongly
that it's the only way
to let go for a moment
because if I hold on for too long,
if my grip gets too tight
I'll break myself,
I will break you like glass
and we will both
I am a good guy
who hasn't yet found a way
to show it,
I am a good guy
who still identifies with the villains,
hides everything important
anything to throw you
off of my trail....
and I don't know why,
but I am trying.
Maybe I think
that if you could see me,
the real me,
you wouldn't want to look anymore,
want to be anywhere near me,
and the idea
that I can't add up
to be enough for you,
to be enough for me,
is so fucking heart breaking
I can hardly fathom it.
I can't say that it doesn't hurt
because it does,
it hurts a whole hell of a lot,
I've come to depend on pain,
to befriend misery
A Kiss not Forgotten (a special tribute)Like a frost spread across valleys silent and dreary,
ever my longing lost in shimmers of shadow & wind
And days bled into years, the seas became deserts
But thoughts of thee would not perish
Thru memories untamed I staggered far and long;
upon solemn nights lit by the torch of your soul
O’ how deep I miss your fragrant cheer ..
Of warm evenings shared across Lake’s reverie,
watching horizons journey into Autumn’s dream
— wherest our hearts once bloomed a fabled sky
Those passions shared will forsake me not
Lest the Moon would bestow solace upon my ache:
I will lay marooned, haunted by thy seraphic-figure,
Or the ever fleeting caress of your gaze ...
So my soul shall yield to this mythic abyss; –
as I peer from my carriage to Nirvana
And thou away, from my arms, the Sun weeps
Unto eternity—my dear beloved, we are entwined
Forever our footprints cast in golden firmament
A kiss not forgotten in a ballet of light softly falling
I now bear the want
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
Black hole BulimicThe Composition:
I birth poems — not amaranths
in graveyards — not gardens.
sows seeds of doubt
into skeleton weeds.
A farmer plucks the bones
from Apollo's hyacinth; his
I binge on broken
cracked collectors of rocks,
of pebbles kidnapped
from barren beaches:
where crooked kings
buried in books whose
pages creak to crickets
in an abandoned abyss
of an attic—caskets on
an antiquated shelf. I
choke on the dust and
twitch in recoil.
The bickering sky
A cloud coughs—
The clock's scythe hand
swivels to the beckoning
twelve. Spastic ticking—
each bleak stroke
of a midnight heart.
The sundials do not work
now. The vampires know
I kill poems—
obligation steam machineas always
grinding the cankerous
of your cognition
until the lack of compassion
leaves you unlubricated
seized frozen bound stuck
only then the machine of
your fears will burst to steam
squealing to suckle
at the genius of my
the unsung soiled hero
of middle-class ferocity
savior of the undeserving
winding slowly deftly dying
martyr to the self-justified cause
as love for summer fades.late morning-
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.
Antarctica eminenceMy dear Antarctica eminence, drifting on a frozen dewdrop how do you take your sugar? Is it prepared with pepper at its prominence? But for reason unknown nor circumstance that will not permit you it is claimed to be the death of you my liege, that there is no greater fear than the taste of what the unseen God would have you become, how it fills you with disgust that the sole reason for your creation…was an avatar for what could never be…a fool’s fantasy..
You are not you..in essence you are an offspring, of shoot of at least in part, a bizarre metaphor presented in horror of your creators deepest introspections. Given the goal that “he” desired for “himself” that you have buried under a campaign of blind hatred, my dear Antarc
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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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