a library that's yet to be filled

this is a sideblog in which i write when random muse hits me. i would like to keep my identity unknown, but you can feel free to message me if you want to know something about me or something i've written.

[elixirkitten-deactivated2021021]

[poisonpale-deactivated20150906]

dark pale/glow, following back similar

[uncasts]

darkness spreading like a virus

[are-soul]

DARK PALE

IG:@caseystoddart

[fleshgrl]

[are-soul]

DARK PALE

IG: @caseystoddart

[chanelhq]

[are-soul]

DARK PALE

IG: @caseystoddart

[exhplosion-deactivated20190413]

Release Me

[brhutal]

[akapale-deactivated20150608]

foggy/pale

[blackbandits]

[freckled69]

Nature, Vintage, Photography Blog. I follow all!

[writeworld-blog]

Writer’s Block

A picture says a thousand words. Write them.

Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture.

Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

[scaditis-blog]

a short poem

you idiots, laughing and shouting as if you know what you're saying you stupid little things i hate you all so much with your stupid, pointless jokes and your stupid, ugly words i hate you all so much

[scaditis-blog]

what a man feels in this and every moment, a thousand years from now

"If I could save him, I'd give my fucking soul to do so!" Jason shouts, tired of telling the same story over and over again, tired of the disgusted or disinterested expressions he gets. So what if he lost the one person he was in love with, and so what that it was a man? So what if said man didn't feel the same way, probably, but always returned the kisses? So what if they were lovers, then strangers, then brothers and all that over and over again? So what if he held his loved one's wife while she cried and screamed because she had just been told that he couldn't do anything to save his friend, since said friend sacrificed himself so he could live? The ship was about to blow up and he, as a good little soldier, stayed there and helped everyone evacuate. But when Jason came to look for him, he kissed him one last time, locked himself in the console room and held the explosion back for as long as he could and Jay shouted desperately, his lungs suddenly losing their ability to do whatever they were meant to. He drinks himself to sleep every night since then. Meets Melinda when he can, feeling guilty for lying to her. But he couldn't just go to her and tell her he was, perhaps still is, so damn in love with her dead husband, could he? His life consists of people being entertained by this hell he's been going through, a constant regret and such strong self-loathing you could blow up a whole planet if you use it as a weapon. And that scares him more than he dares to admit, more than it should. The man he loved died so selflessly and he remains a coward. And the worst part is, he'd kill himself, in the blink of an eye, he would. But he can't. His lover and brother and stranger didn't die for this. And he would never let his death be in vain.

[dreamer0013]

pale,glow,grunge vibes - image #2039413 by saaabrina on Favim.com na We Heart It.

[savealifekillacop]

[anthonyaayteez]

I love when her eyes glow when she looks at the sky and talks about how pretty it is. I want to show her beautiful sunrises, beautiful sunsets, all the phases of the moon, and the shining stars in the breathtaking night sky. I want to show her the world. Little does she know that she’s my world and all the above could not come close in comparison to her.

AT (via anthonyaayteez)

[qock]

[scaditis-blog]

it's not worth it, it's never worth it

I’m trouble. I’m not good enough to even be your friend, what’s left for lover. I am complicated and full of life, but I also want to die like it’s the only thing I can do. I will make you think about things you’ve never even thought you could ever doubt. I will take you and I will crush your bones between my fingers and bury what’s left in my mind, but never in my heart. I will cry and I will scream that I can change the world. I will turn you into me. I will make you think and I will show you what life really is about. You don’t want me in your own. You’ll lose everything because of me and when I leave you, because I will, you’ll be nothing. You’ll be nobody, you’ll be looking for someone to take care of you until you don’t need them anymore. I will turn you into me. I’ll make myself comfortable in your guts and you will suffocate. You’ll feel my pain and my loneliness. You’ll understand what it’s like to lose everything and nothing at the same time. I’ll make you miserable. You’ll see what I am like, but at such a cost. I will change you so you can fit my expectations. But you’ll never be good enough. I’ll beat the happiness and the light out of your being. The world will hate you. I will turn you into me. And, trust me, you don’t want that. So, is loving me really worth it?

[st-pam]

[scaditis-blog]

He was there, but he also wasn't

He is blonde with his hair long enough to be tugged behind his ears, perhaps a bit longer. His eyes are light blue, almost grey, galaxies of emotion. He wears a lot of leather and he can sing. His smile is bright and almost doesn’t leave his face. His nose is pierced and he wears two earrings on his left ear. His laugh is twice as melodic as his voice. I am in love with him. I have never talked to him, not really. And I don’t know him. I know only what he’s decided to share with the world. I know he is slightly dyslexic, I know he’s had two serious relationships so far. He got the first one a promise ring after six months of being together, they had met in drama class when he was new at school, and they instantly fell for each other. Two years later, though, when they were graduating high school, they broke up. He wrote songs about it. A few months later, he met the second one. They were both new at college and were together for a little more than a year. He’s been in a band ever since he was 15, he wrote songs about that too. I am in love with him, and will probably be forever. I don’t think he likes forever, though. Not after that promise was broken. Or so his music says. Don’t ask me why I say I’m in love with him, when it’s obviously for his looks and I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. That’s not true. I have fallen in love with the person a few people actually see. I can read it in his eyes. He is hurt. He is misunderstood. He doesn’t want to be good, he doesn’t want to be bad either. He is not flawless. He is passionate and he is capable of such strong love and bond. He is strong and independent and has the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he wears it proudly. He is an universe, he is a black hole. He is a tree that’s gotten its roots cut off. He is capable to grow them back again. He doesn’t care about your opinion, but he also does. He is shy and he is also confident. I really feel like I know him, even though I don’t. He is my moon but I am just one of the many stars that admire him. My love for him burns with the strenght of a thousand suns and if I could take his soul, take mine too and combine them, I would. So now I’m in the front of the crowd in the bar they’re playing tonight and he looks at me—straight into my eyes, and I read recognition on his face. He feels like he knows me, and he probably does. He closes his eyes, and I close mine. It feels like he’s there, but he also isn’t.