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Fear of the Future As I sit alone in my room and stare at a boutonnière from my brother's wedding, I....I'm scared; fearful of the unpredictability of the future. The uncertainty that it holds. All I can think about is if my life will become as good as my brother who got married. Will I find a boyfriend? Will I get a steady job or career? Will I find happiness in living? So far, living is far too lonely while the thought of death is comforting.
I want to know what the future holds so that I can decide for myself if it is worth going on. I fear my life when I should just enjoy it. I can't crave something if I don't take pleasure in it. I guess the real question is 'Am I worth the time and wait?' And I honestly don't know how to answer that question. It isn't in my capabilities to do that.
Staring at this flower only brings sorrow when just a few days before I was showing it off with happiness. The way the white brightness decays into a
Happiness?Why am I so happy?
There isn't anything to be happy about in my life;
I don't have a significant other, I feel like I don't have any friends,
Nothing in my life seems to be going right.
So why am I happy......content with right now?
Could it be the sun bathing me with it's warmth,
The way I look at nature and see it so radiant, and beautiful?
I don't understand, yet there is something inside of me that grasps me and tells me
That everything is fine, and good, and....happy.
What is a guy to do when this happens, because moments like this are rare to me.
Am I to just 'play' along with it, or maybe work towards other good things, or possibly
Just be still and watch everything passing by? I don't know what to do?
To Be LonelyThis, my loneliness.
This enchantment that lingers over me.
All I wish is for it to be broken.
Broken by someone, anyone willing to hold onto me.
But as the days flow by, I feel it getting stronger.
Entrapping me into its grasp, unable to free myself.
This feeling that I grow tired of,
Will eventually become my grave.
Unless someone is willing to fight for me,
Someone that would want to see me for another day.
Yet, I fear that will never happen,
But the only thing keeping me here is hope.
I don't know if this hope is false or not,
But I must have the patience to find out.
If I don't, I wouldn't be able to know what could've been.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More