My Creative Writings

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As I flow with the wind my mind is at ease. No more worries have I for I am no more. My prison sleeps the long sleep, and sets me free upon the world. I travel across the astral plane at my discretion and melt through space and time with instinctual simplicity. The ripples of definition wash over me with incredible gentleness. I no longer have to deal with the burdens of physics, because they no longer apply to me. I spread myself out upon the world in hopes everyone will change and not damnate themselves to their end. I now hear the music of the stars for I have learned the inevitability of after-existance. I can feel the infinitness of existance in my obtained auwa. My aura glows a white brighter than any star, but my heart burns darker than the blackness of space. I long for the unobtained peace for which I journey forth. I speak the old language, but feelings of love and happiness rise from my throat and hampers my ears instead of the sound I was expecting.

Sitting in my cell with the dead of time, feeling my mind merge with oblivion. The walls melt away into harmony and sound while I watch the colors of my emotions swirl around my body. My sense of being ventures through space rips of insane beauty. All my senses highten to a peak of perfection where i can taste sound, hear beauty, feel color, smell happiness, and see beyond the three-dimensional perception. Knowledge flows through me like waves of heat as I become one with eternity. Perception splits wide into infinite as i go beyond the barriers of time. Dream and imagination blend with reality as the fourth-dimensional limits crumble around my new state of being beyond being. I am nowhere yet everywhere. I exist through non-existance. No longer physical... I am a figment of dream, a child of imagination, and reborn through creativity. A sense of being am I measured no more, but rather two simple words: I am.

(note at the bottome of page)

To know the music of the stars is to know that there is more to things than what is comprehensible. Thought is not the only way to comprehend something. Some times you just have to open your mind to the surrounding knowledge and let it "flow" through you. Thought is the most simplist of ways to understand. You need to learn to understand in ways other than thought to comprehend the incomprehensible and discover knowledge that mankind won't learn for eons to come, when we evolve to something beyond the third-dimension which we've become so familiar with. Appreciate what IS, not what is possible.

Majestic in all it's beauty it stretches it's significance. It burns through the eyes and into the soul where it releases emotions of deep purple and pacific green. It brings the bearer through realms that only creativity can imagine on its days with itself. Peaceful visions of just color and harmony. It lets forth pure and untampered beauty to the mind. Pyramids of crystal blue and eyes of ruby green. Skies of extreme purple and clouds of gold. Winds so fresh and aromatic they're intoxicating. It draws pictures of sadness and anger in a swirl of greens and starlight. It harnesses the smells so familiar and uniquely known and fills your heart with moonlit essence. Reaching out through your fingertips it arouses a craving of release. It bends your movement to its will and creates lines of meaning and importance. It flows out in a way of beauty; of art; to be sent forth into the souls of others through their view of the entire image. Through their eyes.

Depression is like a world of dark blue. It's like waking up and knowing there will be no tomarrow. Knowing that your life was waisted. It's like a voice in your head repeating over and over "It's all your fault. It's all because of you." An ice chill flowing through your veins. No more happiness. No more warmth. All lost in a moments hesitation. Lost because you could not be there to stop it from happening, or because you could not be there to see the sparkle in her eyes. A world stripped of warm sunlight and left a barren, sorrowful, moonlit desolation. It crawls into your head like a plague, and then eats away at you from the inside out. It breaks you down into something helpless, vulnerable, with no more purpose. It sucks your hope dry and spits it back at you in globs of pity. Unmerciful despair drilling through your heart. All because of you. All your fault. You took too long, and now it's too late. Hopeless. Pathetic. It wraps you in suicidal tendencies and leaves you completely alone. All by yourself. No one to turn to. Depression is watching the ground rush up to you and hearing the resonating echo of your neck breaking. It's feeling the click of the trigger and hearing the blast in your ear. It eats you alive like watching your family members being tortured while blindfolded, and knowing you can do nothing but turn you head away. Hearing their screams. Hearing them in agony. Despairing. Helpless and utter hopelessness.

Depression flowing through my veins like a winter chill I reach out for something to stop my fall, but all moves out of my reach. As I spiral downward the light at the top becomes a distant memory. I fall forever and surcome to madness. I hit the bottom with a sickning thud, but make no attempt to get up. There is no longer any point, and all hope once had is lost. I do not even lift my head to look around, for I no longer care. As the others climb up the ladder on the side of the hole I lay there. I never even see the ladder, and I just continue to lay there until death. My body finaly gives up along with my mind, and I die. Not even after death am I relieved, but sentenced to Limbo for eternity. I float in nothing with no sense of direction, for direction does not exist there. Limbo is the nothing, never was, and never will be where no hope exists. Hope there never was and never will be. That is where I suspend and remain. A place that even the minions of hell do not like to go to. A place where you can go, but can never leave. A place of eternal boredom. It is a fate worse than hell. Void of feeling and sucked dry of thought. Limbo is a place where nothing exists, for it never was and never will be. It is the one place where one can truly be alone, undisturbed, and free of worry. It is the one place that you can be free of everything for nothing's there, never was, and never will be.

Beyond the clouds I lie,

somwhere far and high,

beyond the madness,

past the storm,

telling of times gone by.

The eve of distruction fell upon us and the dawn of the end began. Fire tore the skies and the souls of the damned cried out. All living and non-living were consumed by their own evil. In the midst of the fury there appeared one whom the fires did not affect. He spoke words of comfort and banded together the survivors into one people. Learned from the mistakes of the past, and the logic of the future, they formed a nation of peace where no one man controlled another, but played out their own destiny. Fate was inevitable, for some things are meant to be, and the peace was broken by another whom appeared from the ruins of the dead. A war broke out between the two, and all was lost. In the aftermath of their own violence they were the only two left, and in a fit of rage over what they had done they destroyed each other.

Moral of the story: fate sucks.

A wave of red warmth and mutual relief. Passion flows out from the depths of raw beauty to be met by equal passion. Pink feelings swirl around in pleasant shades. The beauty of the climaxing to a press of heat and beautiful aroma. Plunging with love and instinct. Primitive beauty. Unmeasurable love. The stench of red in shades of pink and maroon. A peak of senses and relief end the moment.


	Shrapnel2019 \| home My Personal Info \| My Creative Writings \| The Mental Hospital \| My "First Time" \| The Summer Cottage \| New Year's Eve Party \| One Bad Day \| The Shelter Care Experience \| The Journal \| My Love \| Letters from Beth \| Cool Pics \| My Links \| Link to my book My Creative Writings #1 As I flow with the wind my mind is at ease. No more worries have I for I am no more. My prison sleeps the long sleep, and sets me free upon the world. I travel across the astral plane at my discretion and melt through space and time with instinctual simplicity. The ripples of definition wash over me with incredible gentleness. I no longer have to deal with the burdens of physics, because they no longer apply to me. I spread myself out upon the world in hopes everyone will change and not damnate themselves to their end. I now hear the music of the stars for I have learned the inevitability of after-existance. I can feel the infinitness of existance in my obtained auwa. My aura glows a white brighter than any star, but my heart burns darker than the blackness of space. I long for the unobtained peace for which I journey forth. I speak the old language, but feelings of love and happiness rise from my throat and hampers my ears instead of the sound I was expecting. #2 Sitting in my cell with the dead of time, feeling my mind merge with oblivion. The walls melt away into harmony and sound while I watch the colors of my emotions swirl around my body. My sense of being ventures through space rips of insane beauty. All my senses highten to a peak of perfection where i can taste sound, hear beauty, feel color, smell happiness, and see beyond the three-dimensional perception. Knowledge flows through me like waves of heat as I become one with eternity. Perception splits wide into infinite as i go beyond the barriers of time. Dream and imagination blend with reality as the fourth-dimensional limits crumble around my new state of being beyond being. I am nowhere yet everywhere. I exist through non-existance. No longer physical... I am a figment of dream, a child of imagination, and reborn through creativity. A sense of being am I measured no more, but rather two simple words: I am. (note at the bottome of page) To know the music of the stars is to know that there is more to things than what is comprehensible. Thought is not the only way to comprehend something. Some times you just have to open your mind to the surrounding knowledge and let it "flow" through you. Thought is the most simplist of ways to understand. You need to learn to understand in ways other than thought to comprehend the incomprehensible and discover knowledge that mankind won't learn for eons to come, when we evolve to something beyond the third-dimension which we've become so familiar with. Appreciate what IS, not what is possible. #3 Majestic in all it's beauty it stretches it's significance. It burns through the eyes and into the soul where it releases emotions of deep purple and pacific green. It brings the bearer through realms that only creativity can imagine on its days with itself. Peaceful visions of just color and harmony. It lets forth pure and untampered beauty to the mind. Pyramids of crystal blue and eyes of ruby green. Skies of extreme purple and clouds of gold. Winds so fresh and aromatic they're intoxicating. It draws pictures of sadness and anger in a swirl of greens and starlight. It harnesses the smells so familiar and uniquely known and fills your heart with moonlit essence. Reaching out through your fingertips it arouses a craving of release. It bends your movement to its will and creates lines of meaning and importance. It flows out in a way of beauty; of art; to be sent forth into the souls of others through their view of the entire image. Through their eyes. #4 Depression is like a world of dark blue. It's like waking up and knowing there will be no tomarrow. Knowing that your life was waisted. It's like a voice in your head repeating over and over "It's all your fault. It's all because of you." An ice chill flowing through your veins. No more happiness. No more warmth. All lost in a moments hesitation. Lost because you could not be there to stop it from happening, or because you could not be there to see the sparkle in her eyes. A world stripped of warm sunlight and left a barren, sorrowful, moonlit desolation. It crawls into your head like a plague, and then eats away at you from the inside out. It breaks you down into something helpless, vulnerable, with no more purpose. It sucks your hope dry and spits it back at you in globs of pity. Unmerciful despair drilling through your heart. All because of you. All your fault. You took too long, and now it's too late. Hopeless. Pathetic. It wraps you in suicidal tendencies and leaves you completely alone. All by yourself. No one to turn to. Depression is watching the ground rush up to you and hearing the resonating echo of your neck breaking. It's feeling the click of the trigger and hearing the blast in your ear. It eats you alive like watching your family members being tortured while blindfolded, and knowing you can do nothing but turn you head away. Hearing their screams. Hearing them in agony. Despairing. Helpless and utter hopelessness. #5 Depression flowing through my veins like a winter chill I reach out for something to stop my fall, but all moves out of my reach. As I spiral downward the light at the top becomes a distant memory. I fall forever and surcome to madness. I hit the bottom with a sickning thud, but make no attempt to get up. There is no longer any point, and all hope once had is lost. I do not even lift my head to look around, for I no longer care. As the others climb up the ladder on the side of the hole I lay there. I never even see the ladder, and I just continue to lay there until death. My body finaly gives up along with my mind, and I die. Not even after death am I relieved, but sentenced to Limbo for eternity. I float in nothing with no sense of direction, for direction does not exist there. Limbo is the nothing, never was, and never will be where no hope exists. Hope there never was and never will be. That is where I suspend and remain. A place that even the minions of hell do not like to go to. A place where you can go, but can never leave. A place of eternal boredom. It is a fate worse than hell. Void of feeling and sucked dry of thought. Limbo is a place where nothing exists, for it never was and never will be. It is the one place where one can truly be alone, undisturbed, and free of worry. It is the one place that you can be free of everything for nothing's there, never was, and never will be. #6 Beyond the clouds I lie, somwhere far and high, beyond the madness, past the storm, telling of times gone by. #7 The eve of distruction fell upon us and the dawn of the end began. Fire tore the skies and the souls of the damned cried out. All living and non-living were consumed by their own evil. In the midst of the fury there appeared one whom the fires did not affect. He spoke words of comfort and banded together the survivors into one people. Learned from the mistakes of the past, and the logic of the future, they formed a nation of peace where no one man controlled another, but played out their own destiny. Fate was inevitable, for some things are meant to be, and the peace was broken by another whom appeared from the ruins of the dead. A war broke out between the two, and all was lost. In the aftermath of their own violence they were the only two left, and in a fit of rage over what they had done they destroyed each other. Moral of the story: fate sucks. #8 A wave of red warmth and mutual relief. Passion flows out from the depths of raw beauty to be met by equal passion. Pink feelings swirl around in pleasant shades. The beauty of the climaxing to a press of heat and beautiful aroma. Plunging with love and instinct. Primitive beauty. Unmeasurable love. The stench of red in shades of pink and maroon. A peak of senses and relief end the moment.