

Transcend NocturnalDarkness. Misty, hazy viscosity. Chaotic, piercing lights and sounds, omnidirectional. Burning desire for warmth; for shelter from the dissonant storm.Transcend Nocturnal
He pressed on, following the painted lines on the asphalt. The lines were thick, protruding from the road as a textural oddity. Light refracted through their slick coating of water and diminished their visual presence.
The turmoil seemed as if a sentient assault, but he continued to advance towards his goal. A red hand pierced the precipitation in repetition to give warning.
Rubber slid against the asphalt with great aspiration, creating tumultuous curren


Bisecting Glance"Fuck The Wizard of Oz."Bisecting Glance
Professor Valentine's loud assertion somehow echoed off the classroom's carpeted walls. His references to Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini had been met with an ignorant reaction, and he wasn't happy about it.
Amused by the angry statement, the class burst into laughter. Understanding the problem, I did not. Instead, I turned my vapid gaze from the upper corner of the room, where it had boredly rested for most of the past hour, towards the instuctor. Its journey was very briefly interrupted.
I was not a stranger to my gaze meeting with this other one, but it was different this


The Moment of TranscendenceEbbing tides of crimson.The Moment of Transcendence
Life deluging from the wound.
Pallid, impoverished digits on the left, sopping ones on the right. The bloody side reaches out for any manner of defense, but never finds one. Eyes, their vision not quite doomed by the tidal wave of vivid white, are burned in with the image of a field of utterly senseless carnage. Death reigns over the world of gray with a baton of iron, conducting a flawlessly cruel symphony.
The tides flow, never surrendering to any will but that of chaos. A broken heart beats louder than ever before, in time with death's symphony.
Rockets. Muffled.


A Torrential RequiemAs Bob fell, he studied the growing scenery below him. City blocks, with their intricate pattern of divising streets, looked merely like flat shapes from this height. As the shapes spread out from their gray center, they became more and more colorful, and eventually became enormous, green rectangles.A Torrential Requiem
It was all growing, though. Bob wondered why the shapes below him were moving towards him; he also wondered why they were emitting such a high wind. He could feel his entire self being stretched by the wind and desolidifying due to the warmth of it.
The picture grew faster, and Bob realized it was he that was moving. He
Devious Comments
--
~*~
I was a cat in a previous life.
>^..^<
Previous PageNext Page