Author Topic: Black Eyes.  (Read 8988 times)

Bu☆ns

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #15 on: April 09, 2010, 10:15:33 pm »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

LMNO

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #16 on: April 10, 2010, 02:19:13 am »
It's just sort of a stream of thought. Expression on the run, you know? trying to get stuff out of my head.

I smoke pot, it helps. LoL

Gaaarrrrrr, please don't be like that.

There's a bunch of folks on this forum that use drugs. A bunch that don't. So this isn't about whether or not you do or do not use drugs.

But please, take responsibility/credit for your own writing.

If you write shit, don't blame pot. If you write brilliant stuff, don't foist the credit off on pot. What you're writing is YOUR WRITING. If you find that pot helps you access the part of yourself that you want to access to write, that's fine. But please don't make this into "lol it was teh potz"



This. Well said, DC.

Cain

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #17 on: April 10, 2010, 02:53:36 am »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

Also ironic, given EBS had a penchant for popping pills/drinking and then going off at other people on the web, pretty much at random.

While Neri's work didn't really click for me, at least she was attempting to be creative, you know?

Cain

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #18 on: April 10, 2010, 02:54:31 am »
It's just sort of a stream of thought. Expression on the run, you know? trying to get stuff out of my head.

I smoke pot, it helps. LoL

Gaaarrrrrr, please don't be like that.

There's a bunch of folks on this forum that use drugs. A bunch that don't. So this isn't about whether or not you do or do not use drugs.

But please, take responsibility/credit for your own writing.

If you write shit, don't blame pot. If you write brilliant stuff, don't foist the credit off on pot. What you're writing is YOUR WRITING. If you find that pot helps you access the part of yourself that you want to access to write, that's fine. But please don't make this into "lol it was teh potz"



This. Well said, DC.

Sober editing, while not fun, is everyone's friend,

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #19 on: April 10, 2010, 04:43:17 am »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

You've figured me out.  :lulz:

I'm hoping to eventually engage the op for a better explanation of the whole emo culture in our youth today.  I did take a very abrassive approach at it.   
 
I hate everyone.

Earthbound Spirit

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #20 on: April 10, 2010, 04:50:45 am »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

Also ironic, given EBS had a penchant for popping pills/drinking and then going off at other people on the web, pretty much at random.

While Neri's work didn't really click for me, at least she was attempting to be creative, you know?

It wasn't random and I haven't gone off on anyone in quite a long time.

Point taken.
I hate everyone.

Bu☆ns

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #21 on: April 10, 2010, 07:12:44 pm »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

You've figured me out.  :lulz:

I'm hoping to eventually engage the op for a better explanation of the whole emo culture in our youth today.  I did take a very abrassive approach at it.   
 

Bullshit. you know it. we all know it.

Bu☆ns

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #22 on: April 10, 2010, 07:14:55 pm »
My eyes see everything. My heart feels everything. Knowing so clearly I feel blind. The light feels like darkness and death's not a secret anymore. My eyes are black and without needing a reason why my soul is screaming so quietly. Pain like melted butter, like pleasure, just like happiness. Like a slit wrist crying softly, ecstatic, life blood pouring out. Never mind those promises. Smile when no ones looking, no ones ever really looking. A spirit in the darkness, the other lights are just fading dreams, sweet and lost. Other peoples pale reflections are the ghosts of hope. I just want to touch. I can't feel their caressing hands, my black eyes watch their pretend kisses and love, and my black eyes laugh.

Jesus fucking Christ

What is this shit supposed to be?  I don't get it.

Have you considered drugs?

EBS, you're an idiot.

Also ironic, given EBS had a penchant for popping pills/drinking and then going off at other people 17ish year old boys on the web, pretty much at random.

Fixed for how my memory serves it.

Quote
While Neri's work didn't really click for me, at least she was attempting to be creative, you know?

And yeah, and that the whole thing right there.

Placid Dingo

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #23 on: April 11, 2010, 01:31:52 pm »
I think the pot was meant to help generally, not for the writing. Just reading that little post again.
If sheep entrails could in any way be related to the weather, i.e. sheep trails only originate where it rains, then you could use it as an accurate model for discerning what the weathers going to be like. Either, sheep shit makes it rain, or raining makes sheep shit. Sheep don't shit "randomly" sheep shit after they eat, it doesn't rain "randomly" it rains after water collects in the atmosphere.

nerinamakani

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #24 on: April 12, 2010, 08:19:37 pm »
Yep yep.
Warning: Definitions may become blurry as you enter the white light of mysticism.

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Getting hurt...and hurting another.
« Reply #25 on: April 13, 2010, 07:59:04 pm »
In short, I love it. The slow, shivering, creep of pain through my nerves. It's ecstatic. That flash of sensation when I am burned, hit, slapped or cut. So refreshing, like a splash of cold water. It feels right and deserved, perfect. All I want to do is curl up and let myself be hurt.
  The cold, warm, flow of blood across my skin, the slow drip of it. That sweet, lovely taste. Like tears, only thicker and more filling, liquid pain in my mouth. Mmmm.
  And to hurt someone else. That evil urge to bend another, to hear them gasp, to whimper with the same strange mix of pleasure and pain that I love so much. Their blood mixing with mine, smeared across our skins, teeth bared with the hatred of ourselves and our love for eachother.

What could be sweeter?
Warning: Definitions may become blurry as you enter the white light of mysticism.

nerinamakani

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Litany..
« Reply #26 on: April 13, 2010, 08:02:20 pm »
fear, disgust, jealousy and lust
false hope, tears, broken trust
unheard cries, disdain, lying eyes
A faithless caress, hatred disguised
lip service, friendly excuses, petty comfort
Mindless apathy, a litany of love...
Warning: Definitions may become blurry as you enter the white light of mysticism.

LMNO

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #27 on: April 13, 2010, 08:02:59 pm »
In short, I love it. The slow, shivering, creep of pain through my nerves. It's ecstatic. That flash of sensation when I am burned, hit, slapped or cut. So refreshing, like a splash of cold water. It feels right and deserved, perfect. All I want to do is curl up and let myself be hurt.
  The cold, warm, flow of blood across my skin, the slow drip of it. That sweet, lovely taste. Like tears, only thicker and more filling, liquid pain in my mouth. Mmmm.
  And to hurt someone else. That evil urge to bend another, to hear them gasp, to whimper with the same strange mix of pleasure and pain that I love so much. Their blood mixing with mine, smeared across our skins, teeth bared with the hatred of ourselves and our love for eachother.

What could be sweeter?

When you do exactly the same thing, but don't hate yourself while doing it.







LMNO
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nerinamakani

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Ephemera.
« Reply #28 on: April 13, 2010, 08:03:33 pm »
I Will Not bind anothers heart,
nor allow mine bound.
such stifling affections are sickening
for the hearts innermost nature is fey
That much is obvious.
So don't make me any promises.
Don't say it'll be ok.
Hold me sweet, just love me.
That's all I'll ever need.
Warning: Definitions may become blurry as you enter the white light of mysticism.

nerinamakani

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Re: Black Eyes.
« Reply #29 on: April 13, 2010, 08:15:27 pm »
I've felt that.
The not hating myself while I'm hurt.
It's nice.

I like hating myself sometimes though. It's like the cold water on a washcloth after being hurt. It doesn't feel good but it does.

I think I'm kind of sick in some ways. Oh well.

It's like a drug addiction. I know it's not good for me but it fulfills emotional needs.
Warning: Definitions may become blurry as you enter the white light of mysticism.