Do I hate you? No, not in the least. Do I still love you? Yes. This will never go away. Would I do everything to have you back? Well, if it were for you to ask or think of this, that would bring my injured heart some degree of satisfaction. But the thought I don't even know to this day is exactly what you felt for me. You never asked me to give anything up for you, and yet I have given up on others and myself to enjoy precious moments in your company. I know you did not ask of me to give up anyone. I know that, and yet I am failing to forget your carefully set traps for those poor unfortunate souls that you have so craftfully set. I do not blame you, and I am not calling you a witch. I harbour no resentment and am slowly gliding into indifference. I will always admit, when asked, that I still and do love you until there are no seconds left and no light in the sky. But that is my sin. I wonder what yours is. Vanity? It can't be. I have heard you numerous times admit to your humility. In
If it were to be would it bring us joy? by Gabrioloi, literature
Literature
If it were to be would it bring us joy?
It was late and even now it was clear how things were meant to unfold. He opened the window letting the sound of the soup strainer rain fill the room. In a corner, the last light shone on a candlestick he got whilst travelling through the Levant. As the big bright red figures of the clock showed 15 past this might be the moment to leave. He had been living there for a few weeks short of a year and ever since moving it hasn't been what one might call a home. Sure things were going good and thinking about it he felt truly like an ingrate, but was it really that hard or that much to desire or assume? Anyways it didn't even matter now. As he took his bag from the bed he closed the door behind him, locked the room and ran swiftly down the stairs. The house was dark and felt as empty as always, as no one has achieved the feat of making it feel cozy or for that reason even welcoming. Locking the house door he made sure to leave his keys in the exact spot in the garage where Patrick could
It just started raining and the city was unbearable. Full of puddles and smelling of dead or dying vegetation. Trees were left by the city to bow in a humiliating pose devoid of it's proper essence. They were mutilated to being utterly misshapen poles shoved into the ground beneath.
The Market was as close as it gets to a wasteland. Lacking the people that it needed to function it has become a silent darkened monument to the sun. Why the sun? As soon as it shone it first beams, these weaklings, humans, as they liked to call themselves, leap out in a frenzy to repopulate the streets. Dead in the night in the day it became alive only to die ag
Cine s-ar fi gândit că aceiași zi, pe aceiași filă din două calendare gemene aveau să fie atât de diferite în soarta lor. Noaptea de dinainte, hotarul de străbătut pe furiș în somn spre lumină, era umedă, caldă și ne sufoca pe amândoi, lăsându-ne goi sub un cearceaf atât de subțire încât aveai senzația că ești expus lumii întregi.
Gâfâind sub povara căldurii care ne usca trupurile, mintea îmi alerga prin amintirile ultimilor 3 ani. Îmi aduceam atât de bine aminte cum din o si
Dacă te uiți pe fereastră nu vei vedea altceva decât lumina portocalie a stâlpului de iluminat pe asfaltul albăstriu. Asta văd eu când mă uit afară. Poate tu vezi ochii care te admiră. Poate vezi ochii care te caută.
Acum este timpul să asculți vântul care bate. Părul care îți intră în ochi și peste buze. Pietrele pe care calci. Aerul pe care îl respiri și în tine se încălzește. Frunzele care cad. Gradele care fug. Ploaia care nu mai vine și hainele care te îmbrățișează.
Șoaptele neauzite într-o apropiere atât de îndep
Hugo plecase de mai bine de jumatate de ora, iar Ingrid se chinuia din rasputeri sa isi opreasca lacrimile. Nu stia de ce plangea, dar se simtea ca ultimul om de pe pamant. Ii era greu sa spuna ca Hugo era motivul, dar Amelia stia ca linistea necaracteristica pentru Ingrid insemna ceva. Fetele in drum spre casa paseau in liniste, una langa cealalta, amandoua cu capul in pamant. Era prea greu si prea urat sa recunoasca ca in ziua aceea ;ucrurile au decurs impotriva firii. In mintea ei, Ingrid simtea ca e furtuna. Il iubea pe Hugo, insa il indepartase periodic pana acum cand capitulase. Stia cat ii era de greu lui Hugo sa vina sa o vada si totu
Do I hate you? No, not in the least. Do I still love you? Yes. This will never go away. Would I do everything to have you back? Well, if it were for you to ask or think of this, that would bring my injured heart some degree of satisfaction. But the thought I don't even know to this day is exactly what you felt for me. You never asked me to give anything up for you, and yet I have given up on others and myself to enjoy precious moments in your company. I know you did not ask of me to give up anyone. I know that, and yet I am failing to forget your carefully set traps for those poor unfortunate souls that you have so craftfully set. I do not blame you, and I am not calling you a witch. I harbour no resentment and am slowly gliding into indifference. I will always admit, when asked, that I still and do love you until there are no seconds left and no light in the sky. But that is my sin. I wonder what yours is. Vanity? It can't be. I have heard you numerous times admit to your humility. In
If it were to be would it bring us joy? by Gabrioloi, literature
Literature
If it were to be would it bring us joy?
It was late and even now it was clear how things were meant to unfold. He opened the window letting the sound of the soup strainer rain fill the room. In a corner, the last light shone on a candlestick he got whilst travelling through the Levant. As the big bright red figures of the clock showed 15 past this might be the moment to leave. He had been living there for a few weeks short of a year and ever since moving it hasn't been what one might call a home. Sure things were going good and thinking about it he felt truly like an ingrate, but was it really that hard or that much to desire or assume? Anyways it didn't even matter now. As he took his bag from the bed he closed the door behind him, locked the room and ran swiftly down the stairs. The house was dark and felt as empty as always, as no one has achieved the feat of making it feel cozy or for that reason even welcoming. Locking the house door he made sure to leave his keys in the exact spot in the garage where Patrick could
It just started raining and the city was unbearable. Full of puddles and smelling of dead or dying vegetation. Trees were left by the city to bow in a humiliating pose devoid of it's proper essence. They were mutilated to being utterly misshapen poles shoved into the ground beneath.
The Market was as close as it gets to a wasteland. Lacking the people that it needed to function it has become a silent darkened monument to the sun. Why the sun? As soon as it shone it first beams, these weaklings, humans, as they liked to call themselves, leap out in a frenzy to repopulate the streets. Dead in the night in the day it became alive only to die ag
Cine s-ar fi gândit că aceiași zi, pe aceiași filă din două calendare gemene aveau să fie atât de diferite în soarta lor. Noaptea de dinainte, hotarul de străbătut pe furiș în somn spre lumină, era umedă, caldă și ne sufoca pe amândoi, lăsându-ne goi sub un cearceaf atât de subțire încât aveai senzația că ești expus lumii întregi.
Gâfâind sub povara căldurii care ne usca trupurile, mintea îmi alerga prin amintirile ultimilor 3 ani. Îmi aduceam atât de bine aminte cum din o si
Dacă te uiți pe fereastră nu vei vedea altceva decât lumina portocalie a stâlpului de iluminat pe asfaltul albăstriu. Asta văd eu când mă uit afară. Poate tu vezi ochii care te admiră. Poate vezi ochii care te caută.
Acum este timpul să asculți vântul care bate. Părul care îți intră în ochi și peste buze. Pietrele pe care calci. Aerul pe care îl respiri și în tine se încălzește. Frunzele care cad. Gradele care fug. Ploaia care nu mai vine și hainele care te îmbrățișează.
Șoaptele neauzite într-o apropiere atât de îndep
Hugo plecase de mai bine de jumatate de ora, iar Ingrid se chinuia din rasputeri sa isi opreasca lacrimile. Nu stia de ce plangea, dar se simtea ca ultimul om de pe pamant. Ii era greu sa spuna ca Hugo era motivul, dar Amelia stia ca linistea necaracteristica pentru Ingrid insemna ceva. Fetele in drum spre casa paseau in liniste, una langa cealalta, amandoua cu capul in pamant. Era prea greu si prea urat sa recunoasca ca in ziua aceea ;ucrurile au decurs impotriva firii. In mintea ei, Ingrid simtea ca e furtuna. Il iubea pe Hugo, insa il indepartase periodic pana acum cand capitulase. Stia cat ii era de greu lui Hugo sa vina sa o vada si totu
Cine s-ar fi gândit că aceiași zi, pe aceiași filă din două calendare gemene aveau să fie atât de diferite în soarta lor. Noaptea de dinainte, hotarul de străbătut pe furiș în somn spre lumină, era umedă, caldă și ne sufoca pe amândoi, lăsându-ne goi sub un cearceaf atât de subțire încât aveai senzația că ești expus lumii întregi.
Gâfâind sub povara căldurii care ne usca trupurile, mintea îmi alerga prin amintirile ultimilor 3 ani. Îmi aduceam atât de bine aminte cum din o si
I'm different. I think long before I speak, maybe that's why I appear to some as a total slowpoke. I often find myself daydreaming, catching only words from what other people say and paint them in my mind to build me the stairs that I need.