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Misery. - Blog Posts
people are getting high as fuck on new stupid drug called "night drawing" its making them stay iup all the goddamn night drawing. and brother let me tell you. the drawings. not even good
Why is it snowing
WHY IS IT SNOWING
"I am the world's worst man. I have killed, kidnapped and tortured millions only for money and power. I have looked to the world's misery in the face and I have taken all that they had left and yet here you are with a smile in your face and your eyes, calling me kind, polite, sweet and noble, showing me love even when I don't deserve it. Do you know how much pain it causes me? That you love me even when there are a hundred reasons of why you shouldn't, that you kiss me and smile to me even when I don't deserve it. Do you know how much it makes me want to love you back?"
Part of a story that I will never write ;-;
Deep
It's so shallow when it's light,
Only flowing up to your ankles at most,
Words, unspoken, washing up on empty shores,
They're meaningless in the afternoon,
But the tide rises in the shadows,
Words that meant nothing in the daylight,
Drowning me in the dark.
- T.J. Foxes
I’m just so fucking miserable rn.
I want to be calm again.
Every word I say
Everything I do
Everything I see
Every taken move
Constantly reminds me
I am this misery's root
Show this show to your children. It will make them intelligent.
Misery from Ruby Gloom
WIP : Dragon siblings for New Dragon Year
These are Enigma (left) and Misery (right)
On matters about a wolf, misery and tragedy.
Credits(not in order) "I have to keep doing it" Art by Canis Infernalis / Quote from The Oresteia / Quote by Noor-Unnahar / Quote by Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis / "The Pianist" by Valeriya Lakrisenko/ Quote from "The gods show up" by Michael Kinnucan / Quote from Anne Carson (Translator), Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides / Quote by Matthew Stover, Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith / "Chaos" Art by Molly Warburton/ Quote by Charles Bukowski / Quote by Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus / Quote by John Constantine: The Hellblazer / From The Art of Pantomime by Charles Aubert, 1927.
I was birthed from the torn stomach of night,
drenched not in milk,
but in the black bile of forgotten prayers.
The world spat me out
as a creature too ruined to be loved,
a wound with legs,
a scream with teeth.
Hope;
was a bone thrown to a starving dog.
I gnawed it until my mouth filled with splinters,
bled until my tongue knew only the taste
of broken promises.
I grew eating hunger,
drinking the venom of people's hate,
wearing the bruises of their disgust
like a second, rotting skin.
The colour of my flesh...
an open invitation to cruelty,
a crime I could never peel from my bones.
And when I crawled through the sewage of my years,
a thing barely breathing,
I thought love would be the knife to cut me free.
Instead,
it was another dagger...
this one twisted slowly into my throat
while I watched her eyes,
soft and shining,
for someone else.
Tell me, God,
what is more merciful:
to be born blind to love,
or to be shown its light
only to have it ripped from your hands
by fingers colder than the grave?
If there is a God of agony,
He carved His name into my ribs with rusted nails,
He strung my tendons into a lyre
so He could pluck songs of suffering
from my every step.
At night, I lie rotting,
a feast for the worms of memory,
as my dreams decompose around me,
the stench of what might have been,
thick enough to choke a corpse.
I feel decay threading through my blood,
I hear my hope
crackling like dry leaves under the boots
of things that never loved me.
My soul,
no, not even a soul,
a shattered lantern,
spilling its last flicker into a pit
where even maggots refuse to crawl.
And still,
some putrid, twitching part of me
reaches out,
fingers broken and blackened,
begging the silent stars
for something,
anything,
that does not end
in rot.
-Cyrus K.
Day 1 of 30 day background challenge: your room. I thought I might do my immensely cluttered room to challenge me and utterly depress me.Â
What am I even supposed to do now? Cry???