I find myself lost between the lines of this too poetic humanity. Life. Nothing more than an unimaginative story written by a bad writer. The kind who drinks too much. Why should we write? I wish not to fill the library of the human race, but erase all which is written, make it fade in comparison to my book.
I find myself lost in the grey ruins of a once cold city. Neither man nor animal existed as to upset the perfect balance of this cloud filled limbo. Except me. But I am but a gust of wind, a stray shallow shadow of life passed. I search for a sound as to complete the pseudo-mirror which, I believed, could save me. And yet save me from what? Myself? I carried on, leaving behind nothing to give me away. Eventually I caught something with the corner of my dark eyes.
I saw gates. Golden gates that stood mark as to what seemed to be the last place on Earth. With a slight, almost unnoticed move of my hand, I opened the majestic doors that stood before me. I stepped in, and saw a park. All around was blood red. The grass, the leaves, the flowers, seemed to be witnesses to the work of a cloud of blood. I sat on a bench. It was of a strong caramel, which almost seemed to melt in between the gold metallic elements that held up the wood.
Around no sound broke the beautiful vase which was the deep silence that intertwined with red flowing in everything. And so I dared not break the pot which was the origin of my unease. Suddenly I heard an old, yet warm voice next to me. I turned slowly, as not to ruin the surprise, my mysterious guess had set upon me. There stood an old man, with beautiful long, white hair, and soft, young traits. He smiled upon me as upon his child, and I felt, for the first time, not a shadow, but something more. He told me I should not be there. “It is your house, child, but not now. When you shall return, you will sit beside me and I will show you the seas of red, the rains of red upon this red land. I will always be there, hidden in the red.”
3 comentarii:
At first i thought there was something intresting about you, but now i realize that you are just one of those wannabe writers who don't have the patience to describe everything they 'see', if you know what i mean, even though i doubt you do. You are just a pathetic little human being, who struggles to leave their mark somewhere in this cruel world. But you won't be able to, because you cannot write. You have the mind of a 5 year old. Good luck growing up, prick.
I see that even you don't know what you want. Really now. You missed the whole fucking point. You never actually realized the meaning hidden between the lines of my comment. Are you that blind? And you expect me to actually consider and awknowledge you as a fucking writer? Are you insane? Being a writer menas that you must have the patience of describing the scenery and the action as well as what the character feels in such ways that it will reach to the readers. Your posts are nothing more than your need to be awknowledged as a writer, and be respected by others. But while in real life you have a sharp tongue, on a blog you no longer know how to make yourself understood, and so you come up with that insensitive crap.
I am not a pseudo-emo-dark person, and for your own knowledge, you can stop picking on my name, because sun dust is just as idiotic. I liked the former one a lot more.
And I write about what I want. As long as it reaches to someone then it's okay. I do not expect an emotionally retarded human like you to understand what I wrote about though.
And I believe you already are a jackass, long before I came into view. You just like to point out my defects so you don't notice yours.
P.S: cartea umbrelor a fost cu adevarat mortala, m-am cacat pe mine de ras, desi nu cred ca ala era mesajul postului...but still...
Cu aceeasi fidelitate ca si tine astept 'minunatele' tale comentarii la adresa numelui meu. Glumeam. Dar totusi. Incearca ca de data asta comentariul tau sa aibe legatura cu comentariul meu. Nu mai fii asa de ofensiv cand vine vorba de crititca, pustiulica.
Sincer, eu tind sa ii ghicesc pe oamenii, si nu cred ca am zis ca esti rau da ma rog...cred ca-am zis ca esti un jackass, care poate fi tradus si ca nesimtit, si infumurat. Okay, poate nu vrei sa te afirmi cu scrisul, da atunci care e scopul pentru care scrii pe blog? Scrii pentru ca vrei sa citeasca si altii? Ai putea lafel de bine, daca scrii pentru tine insuti, sa scrii intr-un caiet. La faza cu retardatu emotional nu cred ca te-ai prins. M-am referit la faptul ca desi poti sa scrii despre sentimente si cu toate astea tu nu le intelegi complet. Nu ma prind de ce te-ai luat de prietenii mei dar whatever. Tot am senzatia ca tu deja ai o persoana in minte cand conversezi cu mine, mi se pare dubios. Daca eu scriu ceva si postez, e ok; Daca cineva citeste e super; Dar daca cineva citeste si intelege ce am vrut sa zic, si prin cuvintele mele il ajut sa 'evolueze' atunci e genial. Deci eu nu scriu pentru altii, eu scriu pentru mine, dar trebuie sa recunosti ca daca cineva citeste ce ai scris si zice 'frate, asta e genial' atunci parca esti mai motivat sa scrii. Sunt prima persoana care iti lasa hatemail pentru ca eu sunt singura persoana care a avut curajul sa zica 'frate, poti si mai mult' numai ca felul in care o scriu eu e vazut ca ceva de genu 'frate, lasa-te de meserie' deasta am zis ca nu te-ai prins ce am zis. Si tin sa precizez ca majoritatea cometurilor tale sunt prieteni din generala de la tine care se intreaba daca tu esti 'sergiu'. Ai dreptul sa scrii ce vrei, ai dreptul sa te 'inspiri' de la alte persoane si ai dreptul sa le numesti originale. Toata lumea are dreptul asta, dar atunci unde am ajunge noi? Am fi toti lafel, si atunci ce rost mai are sa te inspiri de la altii? [Okay am deviat de la subiect >_>] Deci cred ca asta e tot ce am avut de spus. Mi sa parut cam nasol ca tu ai inteles comentul meu ca fiind o insulta...asta ma face sa ma simt cel mai nasol. Critica constructiva scrisa de mine nu e vazuta intr-o lumina buna. Pentru ca ceea ce scriu eu e 'ofensator' pentru rasa umana, care in mod evidedt ma include si pe mine. Deci practic e ca si cum eu vorbesc chineza si tu crezi ca eu te injur in timp ce eu doar vreau sa ajut. Dar hey, atata timp cat nu ai trecut peste comentul meu ca peste un rahat de caine, fara sa te uiti le el, atunci e bine. Cred ca am exagerat un pic ce am zis despre tine, poate nu esti asa ignorant pe cat credeam.
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