MOAR UPDATE: SCREENSHOT POSTED.
UPDATE: Bitches, I just offered to scout myself. I have a screenshot.
Will post eventually. But I still divided by zero.
FUCKIN' PRO HAX.
Hey, guys. I realize I've been gone for, what, a week?
I dunno. Anyway.
The main reason for my AWOL-ness is because my internet has been down for a while. Some crazy-ass lightning storm hit, and it fucked up the phone lines and internet service and shit.
But I've also been going outside more. Biking and whatnot. I mean, it's physical exercise, right? Good for me. Also, I'm getting very in-depth PAINFUL self-defense lessons from a friend, and this is good as well.
Oh yeah, and I'm not single anymore. FIRST TIME. YEEEAAAAAH.
Haven't drawn anything worth posting yet, unless you want me to. Also got unscouted. Fucking AGAIN. Surprise, surprise.
But fuck it. Whatever. I'll deal with the bullshit.
And I also watched Salt. Crazy fucking movie, I tell you what. Fuckin' A, man. Couldn't explain the plot even if I tried. Fuckin' Russkies with sleeper spies that go fucking crazy. And Wolverine's brother is the fucking bad guy. AGAIN. I MEAN FUCKING REALLY, HE'S ALWAYS THE BAD GUY. X-MEN ORIGINS, DEFIANCE, AND NOW THIS. FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
...Ahem. Yeah.
So that's my life so far. Leaving the poem up for the sake of Stanley Coleman.
"Pure eyes, blue like a glassy bead---
You are always looking at me
and I am always looking at you.
Ah, you're too meek---
beautiful, unspoiled:
thus I'm so sad, I suffer---
and so happy, it hurts.
I want to hurt you
and destroy myself
What you would think
if you knew how I felt.
Would you simply smile,
not saying a word?
Even curses from your mouth
would be as beautiful as pearls.
I place my left hand on your
face as though we were to kiss.
Then I suddenly shove my thumb
deep into your eyesocket.
Abruptly, decisively,
like drilling a hole.
And what would it feel like?
Like jelly?
Trembling with ecstasy, I obscenely
mix it around and around: I must
taste the warmth of your blood.
How would you scream?
Would you shriek "It hurts!
It hurts!" as cinnabar-red tears
stream from your crushed eye?
You can't know the maddening
hunger I've felt in the midst of
our kisses, so many of them
I've lost count.
As though drinking in your cries,
I bring my hopes to fruition:
biting your tongue, shredding it,
biting at your lips as if tasting
your lipstick.
Oh, what euphoric heights I would
reach, having my desires fulfilled
like a greedy, gluttonous cur.
I longed, too, for your cherry-tinted
cheeks, tasty enough to bewitch my
tongue.
I would surely be healed,
and would cry like a child.
And how is your tender ear?
It brushes against my cheek;
I want it to creep up to my lips so
I can sink my teeth into its flesh.
Your left ear, always hearing words
whispered sweet as pie---
I want it to hear my true feelings.
I never lied, no...
but I did have my secrets.
Ah, but what must you think of me?
Do you hate me? Are you afraid?
As though inviting you to the agony
at the play's end, if you wish, you
could destroy me---I wouldn't care.
As you wish, you may destroy me
---I wouldn't care."
AlbinoTitan
Oh Silent Hill, you so poetic.
ZeroInsanity
It's so fucking symbolic, it's disturbing.
I tried to imagine my Otherworld experience.
Static. Screaming. Near pitch black with the dim light of my flashlight while I travel alone in a dilapidated, rusty, and bloody hospital (I really hate any medical facilities; I'm paranoid whether or not what they're giving me is legitimately going to make me better) while I'm assaulted by creatures who look like (I don't know how to describe it; like static, constantly without solidity), are impervious, emit high-pitched static sirens, and disappear at a moments notice.
Then it'll have intermittent static and silence where I can't hear myself.
And I'll have my own kind of Mirror Room.
Actually, I'll have a line of Mirror Rooms dedicated to showing me dying on the other side. And one'll kill me. Slooooowwwwwly.
And also, a room where I get locked in with a revolver with one bullet in it that doesn't work as I suffocate and go systematically numb as blood and gas enter while the walls close in. And I don't die. Instead I stay. Having to listen to the static.